While on her way to meet the Countess of Louisette, Pulcheria kept pondering over what she would say. Once she arrived at the mansion and faced the Countess, she was determined to give her a piece of her mind and make her shed bitter tears.

No matter how haughty a noble may be, how could they stand firm against the highest elder of the imperial family’s rebuke? Pulcheria could not easily forgive the Countess for tarnishing her nephew, who was praised by all as a noble and virtuous man.

Her mind was filled with thoughts of demanding how the Countess could seduce Carl after spreading scandalous rumors about Franz. Layla had to calm her down the entire carriage ride, saying, “You’ll collapse again at this rate. You mustn’t get so worked up.”

Pulcheria knew well that it was impolite to visit without prior notice, especially at such an early hour.

However, she had no intention of treating the Countess of Louisette kindly or giving her any leeway, and thus had no plans to mind her manners either.

Perhaps there was also a part of her that wanted to see how the Countess would react to a sudden bombardment while her guard was down.

“I apologize for the abrupt visit this morning.”

Pulcheria began the conversation with a perfunctory greeting that held not an ounce of sincerity. Despite the unexpected visit, the servants at the Count’s manor handled the guest reception flawlessly, and the Countess of Louisette also appeared, not looking particularly flustered.

With the intention of scoring every little detail from the beginning to the end of their meeting, Lady Pulcheria fiercely scrutinized the woman before her eyes.

“Please don’t apologize. If you had sent word, I would have gladly visited you instead. I am merely sorry for making you travel all this way.”

The first thing that caught her eye was the Countess’s luscious violet hair. The hair color, which could be called the symbol of the Count of Louisette’s family, always inspired a sense of wonder no matter how many times one saw it.

They say the Countess’s family is one where women are rare. While Pulcheria had often seen the Count’s male relatives with short purple hair, this might have been the first time she saw such long tresses.

She couldn’t help but think that with hair so thick and long, it was no wonder it shone with such luster. No wonder the noble ladies and misses of the capital were envious of her behind her back, even as they spoke ill of her to her face.

“You’re not going to ask why I’ve come to see you?”

“I thought you would tell me at the appropriate time.”

Well, look at that. The Countess responded with unexpected composure. Pulcheria had heard that the Countess was so full of herself, always holding her head high and acting arrogantly when dealing with people. But now that they were face to face, she could see a side of her that differed from the rumors.

However, the Countess’s current demeanor could be an act. Isn’t that how most nobles are? They harshly treat those they consider beneath them in status, but the moment they believe someone to be of higher standing, they grovel and prostrate themselves. Pulcheria had seen countless people of that ilk.

“I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve come to ask and confirm something with you. You must confess without a shred of falsehood before me.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I’ve heard plenty about the rumors surrounding you.”

So Pulcheria straightforwardly brought up the ‘rumors’ from the very first question. But contrary to her expectations, the Countess showed a surprisingly steady response.

Pulcheria thought that for noblewomen, there was no word more fatal than ‘rumors.’ Rumors and reputation. They mistakenly believe such things to be the great foundation that sustains their lives in aristocratic society.

That’s why Pulcheria deliberately tried to unsettle Celeste by saying, “I’ve heard rumors about you.” As if to say, you know about them too, don’t you? All those countless rumors about you.

Outwardly calm. No matter what thoughts or conflicts brew inside, the appearance shown to the world must always be gentle. So that the other party cannot read one’s inner thoughts, and instead ends up revealing their own.

With a voice brimming with leisure, Pulcheria fired off sharp questions. Then she picked up the teacup before her eyes and savored it, as if unconcerned. All the while, she did not forget to keep observing the Countess.

“The way you put it, I gather they are not particularly good things being said.”

“Rumors are like that by nature. Good stories don’t circulate as rumors. People are more interested in others’ misfortunes than their happiness. I, too, did not think well of you due to the unfavorable words surrounding you.”

“I see.”

But even though Pulcheria said she had only heard bad rumors about her, and thus did not like her, the Countess’s reply was merely a quiet “I see.”

What could this child be thinking? Well then, it was time to bring up the main point.

“Basic behaviors and attitudes can be viewed differently depending on the perspective, and the one spreading the rumors may have had malicious intent, so I won’t rebuke you for such things. The reason I find you disagreeable is because you’ve become entangled with someone you shouldn’t have.”

Since you’ve gotten involved with my beloved nephew, you’ll have to properly explain those unseemly scandals from before. That was Pulcheria’s true sentiment. She was about to make her next statement, ready to tear apart whatever answer the Countess gave.

“Boo-bah?”

A cute voice that didn’t suit the situation at all cut off Pulcheria’s words.

“Boo, poo, poo.”

The owner of the voice was a very small, adorable baby, perhaps only as tall as her knees.

For a moment, Pulcheria felt as if she had been transported back 25 years.

“Why is Valerie here alone?”

The baby, with large blue eyes and plump lips, bore a striking resemblance to her young nephew in her memories.

Pulcheria’s gaze was strongly drawn to the baby’s bright red lips that looked as if they had been stained with flower juice, and the peach-like flushed cheeks. To think there existed such a cute and lovely little creature in this world! Pulcheria fell in love with the child at first sight.

“Is this child’s name Valerie?”

If not for the violet hair that signified the child as a descendant of the Count of Louisette, Pulcheria would have grabbed the baby and cried out, “Carl! Why have you gone back to the past!”

“Oh my. So this child is…”

No further words were needed. They say seeing something once is better than hearing about it a hundred times, and it was truly so. Pulcheria had rushed here, half-believing Layla’s words that the Countess of Louisette’s child was actually Carl’s, and that he was pushing for marriage to take responsibility.

No, in fact, her heart hadn’t even been half-convinced. Perhaps only 10 percent. If there had been the slightest suspicious circumstance or if the Countess failed to explain properly, Pulcheria had intended to angrily declare that this child could never be of their imperial bloodline. She had been prepared to sharply attack the Countess no matter what she said.

But the moment she saw the child’s face, no explanation was necessary.

“This is Johann’s… child. Oh my. Good heavens.”

She wanted to hold the baby. She wanted to feel if this little wriggling creature before her eyes was truly a living, breathing child.

When she reached out her arms, the Count’s maid handed the baby to her. Cradling the child with trembling fingertips, Pulcheria carefully called out the name.

“Valerie.”

“Ah-oo, boo-ah, poo, poo-hoo-poo.”

As if understanding her own name, the baby responded to Pulcheria’s call. It was a foolish thought, but Pulcheria felt that Valerie recognized her from the poo-poo sounds she made.

Yes, little one. I am your great-aunt Pulcheria!

For some reason, the tip of her nose stung. Perhaps it was because she was unexpectedly reminded of a part of her bygone memories in this place, or perhaps it was because she saw that the precarious familial ties were somehow connected to somewhere. An unidentifiable hot emotion revealed its presence in Pulcheria’s heart.

“How old is Valerie? She seems to be at least 1…”

“Yes, my lady. She is a little over 1 year old.”

How fragile human emotions can be. Pulcheria witnessed the vixen who had seduced her naive nephew transform in an instant into a lovely niece-in-law who had created a beautiful life.

To think she had conceived and given birth to such an adorable baby who resembles Carl so much. How commendable, how very commendable. Pulcheria held the child close as if she would devour her whole.

The baby was small, soft, and warm.

Pulcheria was not the only one who had been busy as soon as day broke.

“Where has Her Ladyship gone?”

Carl had intended to meet his aunt and formally discuss his marriage to Celeste. He had thought yesterday was not a particularly good day to talk about the wedding, so he had glossed over it, but if they were truly going to hold a wedding ceremony, it was only proper to inform his aunt first.

Moreover, hadn’t he somewhat rashly brought up marriage out of anger at the behavior of the young noble ladies who spoke thoughtlessly of Celeste? The rumors were sure to spread throughout the capital in less than a day. He had to prevent the unfortunate situation of his aunt hearing the rumors before his own words.

So as soon as day broke, Carl donned his uniform and visited Pulcheria’s residence.