Episode 56

The king was an old man, and he disliked sitting in one place for too long. Naturally, the gathering ended early, and the nobles lingered in the hall afterward, sipping wine. Most of them had gathered just to vent their frustrations about the middle-class engineers.

Marcus found the whole scene deeply uncomfortable. Technically, he wasn’t a noble either, but since the king favored the Hanger family, the nobles treated him as if he were one. There had been a time when Marcus had knowingly moved among them, playing the part of a flirtatious rogue. Now, he could hardly understand what possessed him back then.

Ignoring whatever nonsense the nobles were going on about, Marcus quietly sipped his drink. Seeing the Duchess of Bellona across the room made his stomach twist.

He was refilling his glass, wondering when everyone might finally leave, when slender fingers tapped lightly on the rim of his cup.

Looking up, he met a pair of striking, blue eyes staring straight into his. The duchess.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering how you’ve been, Sir Hanger.”

“I believe you already know how I’ve been.”

The meaning was clear—she already knew the state he had fallen to. The Duchess of Bellona held his gaze, then let out a short laugh.

“How cold. And here I thought you once courted me so passionately.”

“That was in the past.”

Marcus pulled his glass from her hand and downed it in one go. His mood soured. There was something lurking behind those eyes of hers—some intention writhing beneath the surface.

Over the past three years, a number of women had tried to bring him down—just as he once had with them. It seemed the more withdrawn and brooding he became, the more attractive they found him. Marcus found that bitterly ironic.

In any case, if the duchess shared that same interest, then he had decided—it was best to never get involved from the start.

Thinking back, the duchess had once tried to seduce him in the forest. She had said she only became interested after he got married. He’d almost forgotten that incident in the whirlwind that followed, but the memory of her blue eyes glinting as her hand pressed to his chest had already returned.

“Precisely because of what happened back then, I’d prefer to keep my distance from you. I hope you understand my position.”

Marcus spoke, fully prepared to be called rude. The duchess’s eyes shimmered with intrigue.

“Oh my… That’s not like you, Sir Hanger. I didn’t think you were the type to care about such things.”

“…If you’re trying to mock me, I suggest you pick another day.”

“I’m not mocking. It’s just…”

The Duchess of Bellona reached for him again, but Marcus slapped her hand away with a sharp smack.

Silence fell. Even those deep in conversation turned to look. But Marcus didn’t want to be around her any longer. Whenever he saw her, someone else came to mind—someone he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I’ll be going.”

He left the hall without another word. For a brief moment, he recalled that the Bellona estate was the only place he hadn’t searched—but the thought just made him chuckle bitterly.

If he were to exaggerate a little, Elouise was the kind of woman who detested the duchess so much, she wouldn’t even spit in that direction. Not that she would ever actually spit on the ground—she was far too refined for that.

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The artist sponsored by the duchess, according to her, suffered from a chronic cough and couldn’t walk. Which was to say—there was no way she would ever present them before the king.

The king, a bored old man, was highly curious why the duchess refused to let him see the artist. The queen was just as intrigued.

After much discussion, the two concluded that the artist must be the duchess’s lover. In moments like these, the royal couple were perfectly in sync.

“Historically, weren’t artistic men the very sort to end up under the skirts of highborn ladies?”

“If that’s true, then is Bellona preparing to welcome an ‘artist duke’ into her home?”

“With a fox like her? I doubt she’d go that far. But if it’s a lover she treasures, she’d at least want his name on our World’s Fair program.”

“Now that you mention it, the Duchess of Bellona was once notorious for seeing married men. Do you think this one is, too?”

Unable to suppress their curiosity, the king and queen summoned the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.

Two particularly sharp and sociable maids were sent to the duchess’s townhouse. Officially, it was because the queen had been so moved by the artist’s masterful drafts that she wanted to invite the duchess for tea—and send her a gift along with the invitation.

The queen sent two old bottles of fine wine and a bolt of beautiful silk. The maids returned late in the afternoon. While one insisted on waiting in front of the duchess for a handwritten reply, the other wandered the townhouse. She came back with findings.

“There was an atelier in the townhouse. A large desk, sheets of paper. Not the kind a painter would use. There were stones… but it wasn’t a sculptor’s studio either. I saw graphite, silk ribbons, clay, and wooden blocks—heaps of strange materials.”

The maid detailed what she saw in the unoccupied atelier. Not a trace of the handsome young artist the royal couple had expected. The king frowned.

“Damn it! So the duchess doesn’t even care if her lover roams about freely?”

“Free-spirited men are quite charming, after all.”

“Queen, what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing in particular, Your Majesty. Anyway, is that all you saw?”

At the queen’s prodding, the maid rolled her eyes upward, then added—

“Come to think of it… There was someone I didn’t recognize. Not a maid, but…”

“A maid? It was a woman?”

“Yes. I was leaving, thinking I’d overstayed, when I ran into a young lady.”

The maid described a stunning girl she met in the hallway.

Her wavy blonde hair gleamed even in the shadowed halls, and her blue eyes were so clear they reminded one of a lake. Her features were breathtaking. The maid had initially assumed she was a relative of the duchess.

But then she remembered—the duchess had no relatives.

What’s more, if she had been a noblewoman, she would’ve introduced herself and greeted the queen's maid politely. But instead, the girl blinked at her, then jumped in surprise and tried to hide behind a column.

The maid said her reaction had been so childlike, she seemed like someone who’d just been caught doing something she absolutely shouldn’t.

“And… her appearance…”

“Her appearance? What about it?”

“…If it were me, I’d never let anyone see me dressed like that.”

This maid was the second daughter of a count. At her words, the royal couple’s eyes widened. She went on.

“She was wearing a loose nightgown. So sheer you could practically see right through the chest… A truly free-spirited girl might walk around her room like that, but with outsiders in the house? In broad daylight? A well-bred girl wouldn’t.”

The king had been exposed to many foreign customs through the World’s Fair. So had the queen. After a moment of reflection, the two exchanged glances.

“Queen… are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Your Majesty, I…”

“…Could it be the duchess’s lover is… a woman?”

The maids’ expressions grew strange.

“She refused to present her male artist because of the female lover?”

“…Is that why she’s been absent from society for the past three years?”

“Wasn’t she always obsessed with married men? But lately, not a peep about any man…”

“My goodness…”

The old couple, both avid gossipers, exchanged glances in disbelief—but there was a glint of amusement in their eyes. The maids, on the other hand, frowned.

Their faces all but said: Surely not that. But of course, mere maids couldn’t voice such thoughts in front of the king.

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