77.

A long shadow fell through the slightly opened parlor door. Ro instantly sprang to her feet. Sensing her urgency, the person outside softened their tone slightly.

“Madam. Are you in?”

It was the voice of the elderly butler who managed the guest wing. His name was Alec, if she remembered correctly. Ro momentarily couldn’t decide whether she should feel disappointed that it wasn’t Cardier, or surprised that the butler had come all the way up to her private parlor.

Until now, the old butler’s duties had been confined to the first floor and Cardier’s office. Seeing that no new servants had been hired for a while and only a few maids brought from the ducal estate were employed, she had assumed he was someone who preferred strict formality. When she didn’t respond immediately, the butler cautiously urged her.

“There are several matters that require your direct attention. If it’s convenient, may I enter?”

At that moment, Melvin and Rosetta’s eyes met precisely. It felt like being caught in the act of mischief by an adult. Ro scratched her cheek and, as pre-arranged, gave Melvin a subtle glance. Then she sat primly in her chair, pretending she hadn’t been flustered at all.

“Come in.”

At her permission, the butler fully opened the parlor door. Melvin hastily crammed the scattered papers into his bag and bowed deeply as he exited. The butler stepped aside to let Melvin pass, then stared at his retreating back for a long moment.

“Is he helpful to you, Madam?”

“Who? Melvin?”

“Yes. He seems to have a decent reputation even back at the main estate.”

“He’s useful. Since you brought him up, I’ll need to purchase a few more horses. I believe there’s a separate stable in the guest wing.”

“Yes. It’s smaller compared to the main estate, but it exists.”

“Assign it to him. I spoke with him earlier, and he knows a great deal about horses. I’d like him to personally manage my horses.”

The old butler once again followed Melvin’s path with a wary gaze—but this time, only for an instant, unlike his initial suspicion. He quickly resumed his expression of utmost loyalty.

“I understand. I’ll arrange it immediately.”

Ro was actually taken aback by his compliance. She had at least expected him to say he’d check with the young marquis first.

“What…? What about Cardier? You don’t need to report this?”

“The young marquis has already ordered that anything you wish must be carried out without delay.”

“…Is that so?”

After acting like he’d sabotage everything from behind… now he’s being this cooperative? It made her feel twice as uneasy. If Cardier were standing right in front of her, she’d want to grab him by the collar and demand why he had to make her feel so guilty.

“May I now report on the matters I’ve come for?”

“What is it?”

“I’ve come to request your interim approval for the budget of next week’s tea party. Here are the lists of items already paid and those pending payment. Once you sign below, I’ll immediately disburse the deposits to the merchants.”

“I’ll review it.”

“Also, the furniture you ordered last time has arrived. Would you like to inspect it personally?”

“No, that’s fine. I already saw the models when placing the order. Are the sizes correct?”

“Yes. As expected, your taste is impeccable.”

Ro let out a small laugh at the butler’s words—because they sounded like empty flattery.

“Anything else?”

“As per your previous instruction, I’ve compiled a list of noble ladies to whom invitations will be sent. Please review it, and if any names are missing, let me know so I may take note.”

Unrolling the scroll, a dozen or so names were neatly listed—all prominent families known in the eastern region. Ro calmly took the list and scanned it from top to bottom. Countess so-and-so, Marchioness so-and-so… But Blake’s young lady was absent from even the final entries. Ro blinked.

“What about the young ladies? I’d like to send an invitation to the Blake family.”

“If you mean the Marchioness of Blake, she’s the third name from the top.”

“No, no. Not the marchioness. I’d like to meet the daughter.”

“It’s customary to invite only married women or those engaged to be married to the first tea party. Unmarried young ladies typically don’t hold titles.”

Damn it… An unexpected obstacle indeed. At this rate, she’d either have to attend every social event in the east and wait for a natural chance to meet Miss Blake, or host a grand ball herself. Both options were dreadful.

Above all, she had no desire to be recorded in history as the first young marchioness to host a lavish ball without cause during her husband’s absence. The latter option would have to be postponed by at least a month.

“If there are no further instructions, shall we finalize the list as is? And the invitations—how would you like to proceed? Traditionally, the initial invitation wording is written by you personally…”

Ro nearly blurted out a curse.

“W-what if I hire a writer to compose the wording for me?”

“Of course… that would be acceptable.”

Ro detected a hint of regret in the butler’s tone.

“…What else?”

“It might not reflect well on your reputation.”

“…”

“If it’s truly difficult, selecting a few lines from a poetry collection you enjoy and quoting them appropriately could be a good alternative.”

Poetry… What the hell. Ro pouted her lips, then suddenly recalled the stack of books Anna had neatly placed on the bedside table a few days ago. Weren’t those the ones Lea had particularly cherished and brought from Valdemore Manor?

Most were dull religious or philosophical texts, but there were a few poetry books mixed in. She could probably just borrow a few lines from there. Well, if it turned out too strange, someone would surely fix it for her. Ro raised both hands in surrender and shrugged.

“I’ll give it a try. Don’t expect much.”

“Yes.”

“Is that all?”

“Oh. One more thing.”

The old butler suddenly lifted his head with a faint gasp, clearly having forgotten the matter until Rosetta’s question reminded him. Ro gave a small smile at the butler’s rare display of human fallibility—just for a fleeting moment.

“The young marquis requests your presence.”

* * *

It was Anna and the maids who became unusually cheerful upon hearing that the young marquis had summoned her. Ro was practically pushed into taking a fresh bath, after which various perfumed oils were thickly applied all over her body. They even tried to make her wear strange-looking undergarments.

Ro tore the garment Anna presented into shreds with a baffled expression. To her protest of “Why on earth would I need this when going to reconcile?”, the maids collectively gave odd looks and insisted on completely redoing her outfit. Anna even held the torn undergarment with a pitiful frown.

“That was… my masterpiece…”

“…You made this?”

Anna nodded, drooping her shoulders. Ro exhaled in disbelief. The girl was kind-hearted… but her taste in undergarments was utterly insane. Anna brought out several more, and when Ro rejected them all, she wore an even more pitiful expression. Ro finally bared her teeth and growled.

“Hurry up. I’m running out of time. If you’re not done in five minutes, I’m going like this.”

Ro’s “like this” meant wearing nothing but a thin slip. Frightened by the threat, the maids’ hands moved twice as fast. It wasn’t until at least thirty minutes had passed since the butler’s indicated time that she finally escaped the clutches of women alternately pleading “Just a little more!” and “One moment!”

Of course, she now reeked of all sorts of fragrances. Ro awkwardly let out a sigh.

As she walked down the corridor, she was somewhat surprised by how spacious the guest wing actually was. Though she had always considered it modest for a noble estate—limited to just this floor—it seemed that was only in comparison to Montrosa or Valdemore’s main mansions.

Besides, she rarely moved beyond her bedroom, parlor, training hall, and garden, so she hadn’t had many chances to perceive its full scale.

She was momentarily stunned by the series of doors lining the corridor corner, when several servants recognized her and quickly bowed. Most were unfamiliar faces she hadn’t seen before. Likely these were people personally employed by Cardier, not those tending to the main mansion. Ro stopped one of them.

“The young marquis… is he in his office?”

“Yes. He’s waiting inside.”

The servant, upon seeing Rosetta’s face, quickly added with attentiveness:

“The second door from the end on the right.”

Ro nodded and solemnly stood before the second door. Damn it. It wasn’t her first time trying to make up after a quarrel with a lover, yet her face itched with embarrassment to the point where biting her tongue and dying seemed preferable.

Yet the thought that if she didn’t see him now, she might not know when she’d see him again softened her heart somewhat. Finally resolute, she flung the door wide open.

“Oh, you’ve finally come.”

And then she reflexively slammed the parlor door shut after coming face to face with Turner’s foolishly grinning face. No—why is he here?