Episode 15

Though Marcus had rushed through the wedding like roasting beans over lightning, he still managed to prepare everything—just as he’d promised. It wouldn’t have been possible without the wealth of the Hanger family—and Logan.

Madam Noskina hadn’t noticed in her flustered state, but Marcus had already sent a massive check to the cathedral priest via Logan. Shocked by the donation, the priest postponed the evening mass.

“Where in the world is a cathedral ever free on a weekend?”

Marcus whispered with a hand on Elouise’s waist. The reception was being held in the Noskina estate’s garden. Dancing among the guests was a natural part of a newlywed couple’s duties.

Elouise pinched his upper arm lightly. Marcus winced.

“This is absurd. I can’t even look your aunt in the eye.”

“Funny, she seemed like she couldn’t look you in the eye. Works out nicely. Let’s just avoid each other from now on—”

Elouise smiled and pinched him again. Marcus wrinkled his nose. She whispered,

“Smile.”

“Yes ma’am. Smiling.”

Logan had truly done a lot. He arranged for musicians to play elegant melodies at the cathedral and covered the entire venue in fresh flowers—this early in the season! He even laid a blue silk runner down the aisle for Elouise. Traditionally, remarried brides carried colorful bouquets. But when Elouise said she liked white violets, Logan simply replied, “Then let’s go with that,” and changed the aisle runner to blue instead.

It looked like Cliff’s ocean had been brought indoors, and Elouise was mesmerized.

News that Marcus Hanger, the famous “fast faller,” had married just a week after being dumped by the duchess spread like wildfire through Cliff. The entire social circle gathered for the wedding.

Of course, Logan had personally delivered invitations to every noble household in Cliff over the past two days.

As she danced the second song with Marcus, Elouise endured the countless stares drilling into her. There were at least 300 guests. It was absurd that a small town could hold this many people.

Even more weren’t actual guests: servants serving food and drinks, onlookers peeking over the walls….

Still, the reception was easier than the wedding ceremony. As she stepped down from the carriage and walked into the cathedral, Elouise had felt like she was being surrounded by a protest crowd.

Beggars, passersby, townspeople. Never in her life had Elouise received this much attention.

“You’re a surprisingly good dancer for someone who’s never practiced with me.”

“I told you, I’m the most famous governess in Maine.”

Elouise playfully tilted her chin. Marcus chuckled softly. As the music neared its end, she whispered again,

“I need a break.”

“Of course. You’ve been standing all day.”

“Yes. I’m also worried about Juliet.”

Juliet didn’t do well in crowded places. At a tea party, Elouise could have brought her around and introduced her to people, but the wedding was different—Elouise was the star today. Juliet wasn’t easy for strangers to handle.

Thanks to Madam Noskina’s consideration, Juliet had been allowed to spend time in the woods or her room with the maid Elena.

“But I doubt you’ll get to rest right away. You still have to greet all the guests.”

Elouise glanced around with a weary look. Eager guests were clearly waiting to speak with the newlyweds. Marcus smiled.

“I imagine most of them are more curious about you than me. If you don’t give them some attention, they’ll think you’re a snob.”

“Probably…”

Basic information about Elouise had already spread through Cliff’s social circles.

A baroness from a small town, with a daughter. She had come to Cliff for a spring retreat and happened to fall in love with Marcus Hanger after meeting him at the train station. That was the story.

Elouise sighed. Her shoulders ached, and her vision was going blurry. From the moment she stepped out of the carriage for the wedding, she hadn’t had a single chance to sit down—and even after dancing, she still had to remain standing.

“Weddings are exhausting…. I had no idea they were this complicated. I’m really tired.”

“Weren’t you married before?”

Marcus asked, widening his eyes. Elouise felt a twinge of panic.

“Well… the wedding I had with him was very modest.”

“Ah.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. Elouise internally sighed, thinking she really wasn’t cut out for lying.

The music stopped. The two of them moved among the guests. Hello, madam. Oh my, hello. Hello again… They exchanged greetings dozens of times.

Thankfully, Logan appeared periodically to offer them drinks or draw people’s attention elsewhere. If not for him, Elouise might’ve fainted from exhaustion.

“Are you alright?”

Of course, Marcus’s steady support was a big help too. Elouise raised an eyebrow—his hand was firmly supporting her back. He whispered softly,

“Lean on me. You must be tired.”

“Sir Hanger—”

“Marcus.”

He winked. Elouise realized her slip and corrected herself.

“Marcus, aren’t you tired?”

“How could I be? My beloved bride is right here beside me. Even if I were tired…”

He bumped his forehead lightly against hers.

“I wouldn’t want to show it in front of you.”

They looked every bit the picture of a blissful newlywed couple. Elouise offered a half-laugh. Truly, his stamina was something else.

From what she knew, Marcus had been up earlier than her, checking the cathedral and greeting people. He’d had a busier day than she had. Yet he still whispered,

“It’ll be over soon.”

“What will? …Oh.”

The reception, she thought—but then realized that wasn’t what he meant. Marcus was scanning the area with his eyes. It was obvious who he was looking for: the Duchess.

“…Duchess Bellona attended as well?”

“Of course. She had to.”

Marcus grinned.

“Our encounter is today’s main event.”

A man showing up to flaunt his new lover in front of the woman who rejected him—Elouise knew that trope all too well. She smirked.

“I didn’t take you for the revenge type.”

“Revenge?”

To her surprise, Marcus blinked down at her. Elouise raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you?”

“…Ah.”

He smiled slyly.

“El, you must think I’m petty. Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“…Then what did you mean by ‘main event’?”

“The moment everyone here has been waiting for.”

He shrugged and led her to the estate’s garden fountain. The weather was too cold for water, so the fountain had been beautifully decorated with cascading fresh flowers—a tasteful touch orchestrated by Marcus. Elouise, even in her exhaustion, was impressed.

A man who’s seen all the luxury in the world… yet his taste is impeccable.

“Maine's society is quite kind and welcoming, I hear. Is that true?”

“Yes… mostly.”

“Cliff is a little different. It’s more like the capital.”

Elouise sipped her water and listened.

“Since capital nobles come here for holiday, Cliff’s society is sensitive to trends and gossip. As you know, the most dangerous thing in any society are the unspoken rules. And the problem with those rules…”

“…Is that people who don’t know them can’t follow them.”

“Ding ding.”

Marcus nodded.

“People hate that the most. They don’t tell you the rules, but they’ll scorn you for not knowing them. Anyway, the unspoken rule in Cliff and the capital is simple: you must look impressive. The definition varies, but one thing never changes—poise.”

“Poise…”

Elouise murmured. Marcus smiled.

“For example. Marcus Hanger, brutally rejected by the Duchess, suddenly falls for someone new. If you were the Duchess, wouldn’t you be upset?”

“Sure. Isn’t that what you’re counting on?”

“Shhh.”

Marcus pressed a finger to her lips. Elouise flinched. She shouldn’t have said that—what a slip. She whispered,

“Sorry…”

“It’s alright. In situations like this, what society expects of the Duchess is poise. To publicly congratulate me and become friends with you. That’s what’s ‘elegant’ in their eyes.”

Elouise began to understand.

“If she doesn’t come to the wedding…”

“Then everyone will still enjoy it—gossiping about how upset she must be. Society lives for that. So…”

“So her appearing here to bless us publicly is the best move—to avoid becoming the center of nasty rumors?”

“Well done. You’re an excellent student.”

Marcus clapped lightly twice. Elouise laughed, baffled that she was being praised for this kind of nonsense.

Just then—

“But Sir Hanger, what you really want is for everyone to enjoy the other kind of story, isn’t it?”

A clear, ringing voice cut in.

Elouise instinctively turned her head. Behind the flowered fountain, a woman stepped out—hair jet-black, elegantly pinned up. She was breathtaking.

Elouise immediately knew who she was: Duchess Bellona.

And in that moment, she fully understood Marcus Hanger’s madness.

I can’t believe I actually understand this lunatic.

But it was inevitable. The Duchess was a stunning beauty. Elouise had never seen hair that gleamed like freshly spun silk, or skin so pale. Her cheekbones, her jawline, her sapphire eyes—they sparkled like stars.

And yet, she wore a simple dress with gold jewelry, no gemstones. It looked chic rather than plain. But Elouise’s gaze shifted as she saw who the Duchess was holding by the hand.

“…Juliet?”

Covered in grass stains, Juliet stood with her mouth open, staring at Elouise. Then she smiled and ran toward her.

Elouise instinctively caught the girl, her pink silk dress fluttering. Juliet panted in her arms.

“What brings you here, Juliet?”

“Princess!”

Elouise froze in surprise, then burst into laughter. Juliet, in her pink gown and princess-like hair, must have seen Elouise and thought she looked like royalty.

Delighted, Elouise knelt down and rubbed cheeks with the girl.

“Do I look like a princess, Julie?”

Juliet’s reaction was unexpected.

She shyly buried her face in Elouise’s dress. It was the first time Juliet had ever shown such a bashful gesture to her. Elouise, eyes wide, whispered teasingly,

“Julie? Answer me.”

“Mnnh…”

Her cheeks flushed red.

Elouise couldn’t help but giggle.

“My goodness! Where can you find a child cuter than this?”

Duchess Bellona watched Elouise’s blissful joy with curiosity and then spoke up.

“I hope I haven’t overstepped, madam. I went for a walk in the forest, away from the noisy reception, and happened upon this child.”

“Oh my, I should have greeted you first, Duchess Bellona…”

Elouise scrambled to her feet in embarrassment. The Duchess waved her off. Marcus stepped forward and offered his hand. The Duchess narrowed her eyes and placed her hand in his, allowing him to kiss her knuckles.

To an outsider, it would’ve been impossible to guess Marcus had once courted her so fervently. The exchange was cool and detached.

The Duchess withdrew her hand with a faint smile, and Marcus bowed gracefully.

“It’s a lovely day. I’m deeply honored that you’ve come to celebrate our wedding, Duchess.”

“I came as soon as I heard the happy news. Congratulations.”

Elouise stood awkwardly, holding Juliet and watching in a daze. Then the Duchess’s gaze turned to her.

Elouise stiffened. Only one reason.

She had never in her life been stared at by such a stunning woman.

She went blank for a moment before etiquette kicked in. She quickly handed Juliet off to a nearby attendant and forced a smile.

“Duchess Bellona, yes? I’ve heard so much about you. Thank you so much for coming."

Everyone around was staring at them. So this was what Marcus meant by “the main event.”

The Duchess studied her silently—just for a moment, but it felt like eternity. Then she smiled. It was like a blossom suddenly blooming.

“I doubt Sir Hanger spoke well of me, but congratulations on your wedding.”

“Oh, I’m hurt, Duchess.”

Marcus chimed in suavely, navigating between the two women with polished ease.

He spun an absurd tale—how fate brought him and Elouise together after being rejected, how she rescued him from loneliness in the rain. Lies that Elouise wouldn’t have dared to speak aloud herself.

The Duchess kept smiling as she responded.

“Well, now that it’s happened, isn’t it for the best? You should thank me, really. How did you manage to catch such a darling beauty?”

“Darling—?”

Me? Darling? Elouise instinctively touched her cheek.

She had no idea how to react—no one had ever spoke something like that to her. Marcus was about to cut in when the Duchess raised a hand to stop him.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Sir Hanger. I meant your wife.”

“…Oh?”

Even Marcus appeared stunned. The Duchess stepped closer to Elouise, smiling.

“You may not know, but Sir Hanger is adorable. And I don’t mean just his looks.”

Elouise paused. She had no idea how to respond.

Was this a compliment? A challenge? A joke? She was about to panic.

The Duchess didn’t wait.

“I regret that this didn’t turn out as Sir Hanger had hoped, but I truly wish you both happiness.”

“Oh? And what was I hoping for?”

Marcus asked playfully. The Duchess continued,

“Hmm. Perhaps that your dear wife here would be torn apart by scandalous gossip. But I’m afraid I must disappoint you. I truly bless your union.”

“Thank you for your blessing, Duchess.”

Marcus bowed. Elouise managed a smile. The Duchess winked.

“But don’t let your guard down, Lady Hanger.”

“…Excuse me?”

“They say beauty comes at a price.”

“…Pardon?”

Elouise couldn’t keep up. Was this woman… flirting with her? Teasing her? Like men did with women?

Her heart raced. How was she supposed to respond?

She looked toward Marcus. He merely maintained a formal smile and stared—not at her, but at the Duchess. His green eyes hadn’t left the woman once.

Elouise realized she was the only one who could turn this around.

She also realized that hundreds of eyes were watching with keen interest. This was the trial—Cliff society testing her poise and class. Her future, Juliet’s prospects, everything hinged on this moment.

It was ridiculous, but she knew Maine's society wasn’t so different. Just on a smaller scale.

She curtsied slightly and smiled.

“Is that so? Then I’m all the more grateful to you, Duchess. Just as you said!”

“…Are you?”

The Duchess narrowed her eyes. Elouise laughed softly, covered her mouth, and leaned closer to whisper kindly.

“If you hadn’t turned him down that day, I never would’ve had this stroke of luck.”

“…”

“It was raining heavily the day I arrived in Cliff. I thought I was the unluckiest person alive. I’d come on holiday with my daughter and lost all my luggage. I had nowhere to go. It’s a bit embarrassing, so I’ll only tell you, Duchess…”

Elouise clasped the Duchess’s cold hands in hers and whispered in Toulous.

“{He truly seemed like a prince on a white horse.}”

She deliberately chose poetic phrasing, enunciated clearly for everyone to hear.

A few gasps rang out.

“Oh my!”

“Such refined pronunciation!”

The Duchess smiled and replied in Toulous:

“{May your happiness continue forever.}”

They exchanged a few more lines in Toulous. Those who understood watched with fascination. Those who didn’t, admired their perfect pronunciation.

When Juliet suddenly interrupted in fluent Toulous, the crowd was even more stunned.

“Even a child speaks it so well?”

“Was it Baroness Starwood? Her family must be extremely distinguished!”

The misunderstandings piled up—and Elouise didn’t bother correcting any of them. After all,

Why should I?

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