Though it was nighttime, in this place, it was as bright as midday. Thick pillars carved with ivy and flowers lined the walls evenly, holding up U-shaped arches. The high ceiling was decorated with a large fresco. Hanging from it was an enormous chandelier that shone brightly in place of the sun.
The castle’s great hall was a dazzlingly gorgeous symbol of the Kingdom of Nevel’s prosperity. The people gathered there were dressed to the nines. Noble ladies wore dresses in all hues, turning the hall into a field of flowers.
If the women are flowers, then that would make the men butterflies or bees drawn to their nectar.
“Gabriella?” My husband—my escort for the night—called my name from where he stood next to me. He was worried, since I was in an absent-minded daze.
“Yes, sorry. I was overwhelmed for a moment,” I apologized quietly and then pasted on my best smile. When you relax your guard and conduct yourself disgracefully, you never know when someone might tear you down.
Less than two years had passed since our house—the Orsein family—had been promoted from the rank of count to marquis because of the achievements of Leonhart, our eldest son. There were many high-ranking nobles who looked down on us and harbored contempt for our family, though they hid it on the surface. I was fed up with people hurling nasty remarks at us in roundabout ways, but I wasn’t particularly wounded by them. I simply never engaged.
The Orsein family’s history ran deep, and we were famous for producing many outstanding knights. Others lacked the standing to belittle us. I had no intention of stooping to the same level as those who could only measure a person’s value by their peerage, so I smiled and shrugged off their remarks.
As I continued down that line of thought, a sigh inadvertently spilled from my lips. My husband and I were fine. We were accustomed to handling the fiends that lurked within high society, and we had the audacity and resilience to never yield. I wasn’t concerned about my sons either, as they’d grown up to become splendid young men.
However, I just couldn’t sit still when I imagined that such malice might be directed toward my lovely, dainty daughter-in-law. Though Leonhart’s wife had been born in the lofty position of princess, she possessed an immensely pure and kind heart. I knew she had a strong will, but she didn’t seem accustomed to being the target of spite.
“I’m worried.”
“As am I.”
I didn’t specify whom I was worried about, but my husband understood. Lady Rosemary normally expended her efforts managing her domain and was hardly ever present in the capital, but tonight, she would be making a rare appearance at the soiree hosted by the royal family. We had paid the duchess a visit a few days ago and had been surprised to hear it. In fact, we’d been so surprised that my husband and I had almost resorted to shedding tears and begging her not to push herself too hard.
High society is like a poisonous swamp—its air doesn’t fit a straightforward girl like her. I fret enough about her under normal circumstances, but now she’s also pregnant. The thought of something happening to my daughter-in-law and grandchild put me on tenterhooks.
I’d wanted to do everything in my power to stop her, but Leonhart had admonished me. “I appreciate that you want to protect her, but please don’t try to fetter her in chains,” he had said. My son was right. To me, Lady Rosemary was my precious daughter-in-law, but she was a duchess and the head of her household. Sheltering and protecting her wouldn’t help.
My husband and I had made the heartbreaking decision to just watch over her. But that didn’t mean our anxiety had disappeared. Nevel was a kingdom with strong patriarchal beliefs, and Lady Rosemary was the first duchess regnant in history, so she would be judged harshly. On top of that, there were many people who were displeased that she’d taken Leonhart as her husband.
It was a tad embarrassing to shower my own son with praise, but Leonhart was an exceptional individual. He was the strongest swordsman in Nevel and the former captain of the royal guard. His name was famous in neighboring nations as well. There were many who raised their brows in disapproval that he wasn’t the head of his own house but merely a groom.
It’s ridiculous. Only those directly involved have the right to intervene. Besides, those same people would be displeased if a princess married into the Orsein family. I could easily imagine them loudly yelling, “A former count is unworthy!”
In a nutshell, they’re jealous. They’re merely envious of a beautiful, talented, young married couple. There’s no need to pay attention to the drivel of fools who are trying to knock the moon out of the sky by throwing pebbles at it. I don’t want to be influenced by what such insignificant people say. But how long can the couple defend themselves?
Even now, in this hall, the Duchess and Duke of Prelier were all anyone was talking about. People were especially curious about Lady Rosemary. This was, in part, because Prelier’s medical facility and growing economy attracted attention, but they were also interested in her as a person.
In her time as a princess, she had accumulated one impressive achievement after another, but she’d rarely ever appeared in public. Outside of formal occasions where attendance of the royal family was mandatory, hardly anyone had seen her at a social event. As a consequence, there were numerous speculations and rumors about her.
People suspected that her amiable relationship with the king and queen was merely a facade and that they were actually on bad terms. They thought that she was actually at odds with her brother, the crown prince. That the portrait of her circulating the nation was fake, and that she actually bore no resemblance to her family. All sorts of impudent things were being said about her. Some even questioned the authenticity of her achievements.
Since the subject of all these rumors was of royal blood, there weren’t many who publicly kicked up a fuss, but there were more than a few people who quietly relished the vulgar gossip.
Then again, there were many who’d fallen silent when they’d beheld the sight of the lovely, goddess-like bride during the wedding held at the cathedral. Also, when news of her pregnancy had been made public, the king and queen had sent her a mountain of presents to congratulate her, which had dampened rumors of a secret feud. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean the rumors had gone away entirely. As lamentable as it was, there were always people waiting for their chance to tear others down.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Dear...”
I must’ve looked dejected, because my husband gave me an encouraging smile. “Let’s believe in our children.”
“Yes, you’re right,” I said. A slight smile played on my lips. Those two have surmounted numerous hardships, so they’ll surely be all right.
My husband and I looked at each other and nodded. Then, the announcement that the Duchess and Duke of Prelier were making their entrance rang throughout the hall. All the attention in the venue gravitated toward one spot. Everyone watched as the two large doors swung open with a loud thud.
Someone gasped. I didn’t know if it was me or someone near me. I simply stood there in a trance, unable to form a coherent thought.
The first person my eyes were drawn to was Lady Rosemary. Perhaps it was because she was wearing her platinum-blonde hair up when she normally left it down, but the air she exuded seemed different from usual. Flowers adorned her loosely braided hair, giving her an elegant and feminine allure.
Her dress was cinched under her chest in an empire style. Though the fabric fell loosely around her hips, she didn’t look fat—frankly, she looked so thin that I worried she might snap. The base color of her dress was dark blue, and black lace covered her décolletage and shoulders. It resembled her wedding dress somewhat, but she seemed even more sensual than before.
It isn’t a particularly revealing design, and the needle lace is in an intricate floral pattern, so barely any of her skin shows through. So why is it giving off that impression? Is it the color palette?
Her earrings were unusually large, but they weren’t tawdry by any means. If anything, they contrasted nicely against her fair skin and drew the eyes. Rainbow-colored butterflies danced on a black background—it was craftsmanship from another nation. Lady Rosemary had called the technique “raden.”
I had heard that Lady Rosemary had employed skilled artisans from the Kingdom of Osten. Her earrings were exotic items that had never been seen before in our nation, and they commanded much attention.
Of course, their beauty didn’t hold a candle against their wearer’s radiance. Lady Rosemary’s graceful features were plenty gorgeous, even with only a light layer of makeup. When the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly into the faintest of smiles, she was so breathtaking that one could almost smell her beauty.
A single glance from her would have been enough to bring swarms of men to their knees, but she didn’t spare them a single one. She was looking up at Leonhart beside her—their eyes were locked.
Leonhart wore a black justaucorps and a deep-blue gilet. His white lace cravat had a pattern matching Lady Rosemary’s dress. Pinned on his breast was a raden brooch. It was modest but embellished with a beautiful butterfly design. From the top of his head to the very tip of his toes, he was meant to be paired with Lady Rosemary’s outfit.
They’re like a pair of wings.
The gorgeous couple appeared in twilight like phantom butterflies, and without saying a single word, they stole the attention of the entire hall.