TGLWM 16

Chapter 16

*My uncle and aunt are coming, so I need to prepare.*

She had come in unconscious and empty-handed, so leaving shouldn’t be difficult. She just had to take Danya and go. Lowering her voice, she gave Danya instructions.

“Danya, call Miranda. And you, go straight to your room, pack the luggage you brought when you came here, and wait.”

“…Excuse me? Y-yes.”

Danya tilted her head at the puzzling instructions but left the bedroom without a word. Though she lacked tact, she was obedient and efficient, so there was no need to worry.

Before long, Miranda entered, and with her help, Florence changed her clothes and tidied her disheveled appearance before heading to the main entrance.

*He said he would call for me, but somehow I can’t trust the Grand Duke.*

Given that he had kissed her first thing and stubbornly insisted on calling her “wife,” she had more than enough reason to distrust him. It would be somewhat reassuring to wait outside in advance.

And whether the timing was good or not, as she descended the grand central staircase leading to the entrance, she saw a familiar face coming in.

It was her uncle, Viscount Raoul Sinclair.

Seeing his face, so much like her father’s, she felt a lump in her throat and tears welling up, but she held them back, afraid that if she burst into tears here, the Grand Duke might send her back to the bedroom under the pretense of calming her down.

*But why don’t I see Aunt Talia and Mariann?*

Her expectations had already been off from the very start, and an uneasy feeling crept up on her.

“Ah, there you were. I was just about to send for you.”

At the Grand Duke’s voice from behind, Florence hid her startled feelings and nodded.

“I greet His Highness the Grand Duke. Thank you for accepting our visit request despite your busy schedule.”

She wanted to ask her uncle, who was bowing politely to the Grand Duke, about her aunt’s well-being, but the dark expression that soon appeared on his face made the words die in her throat. And how was she supposed to greet him? If he addressed her as “Her Highness the Grand Duchess,” how was she supposed to react?

In the end, the stiff exchange of nods between uncle and niece was unbearably awkward, as if they were strangers meeting for the first time.

“Viscount Sinclair, I am Miranda, the head maid here. Shall we go this way?”

Miranda stepped in tactfully and guided the three of them to the reception room. After making small talk about the weather and bringing out tea and refreshments, the atmosphere eased somewhat.

The three seated in the reception room sat in silence before their steaming teacups. Florence, turned toward her uncle, was waiting for him to speak first about Mariann. Raoul was watching the Grand Duke’s reaction, and the Grand Duke, resting his chin on his fingers, was looking only at Florence.

“…Uncle, where is Mariann?”

As the saying goes, the thirsty dig wells—in the end, impatient Florence spoke first.

But the moment his daughter’s name was mentioned, Viscount Raoul’s face crumpled miserably. He even began shedding tears, leaving the one who asked the question at a loss.

“Here.”

When the Grand Duke handed him a napkin, he clutched it without even managing a proper word of thanks and began sobbing loudly. A middle-aged man, throwing dignity to the wind and crying like a child—unable to pry further, the atmosphere only grew more chaotic.

After a long while, he finally managed to stop crying and pulled out two neatly folded envelopes from his breast pocket. The first envelope, apparently addressed to the viscount and his wife, read “To My Parents,” and the second read “To Florence.”

*Did she write a letter of apology?*

Instead of doing this useless thing, it would have been far more helpful if she had just come. Grumbling inwardly, Florence picked up the envelope with her name on it, removed the letter inside, and unfolded it.

—

[To my dear Florence,

By the time you read this letter, I will already have crossed the Empire’s border.

I’m sorry for leaving everything to you and running away. I want to say I had no choice, but that would just sound like an excuse. Still, this truly was the best I could do.

Florence. There is a life growing inside me. It’s been about two months now, so my belly should be starting to show. But if I went through with the marriage to Grand Duke Edelston, our viscount family would be executed for treason against the imperial family. So after much deliberation, I hurriedly involved you.

I know this is wrong. But if my child and my parents can live, I am capable of doing worse things. Aren’t you the same?

I will definitely return in five years, and I will atone for my sins then.

Your cousin, Mariann.]

—

If she had to pick the three most shocking moments in Florence’s life, which had been largely trouble-free until now, they would be these:

The broken engagement, the marriage, and this letter.

Though it wasn’t long, the shock was tremendous—so much so that her head rang. Her hand gripping the letter trembled with rage.

“Hmm… So Lady Mariann had a man.”

At the Grand Duke’s words, which fanned the flames of the already burning house, Florence’s head whipped around.

In the Grand Duke’s hand was the letter Mariann had sent to her parents. It seemed to contain similar words to what she had written to Florence.

“You should read this as well, my wife.”

Taking the letter, Florence read through it carefully. The content was similar to what she had received, but it contained additional information that she had been seeing a man for three years. That she had conceived his child, and after starting a family in another country, she would return in five years.

“…When she returns, she will surely… show you her grandchild…”

As Florence inadvertently murmured Mariann’s closing words, Viscount Raoul, who had barely stopped crying, burst into tears again.

“Hic! She’s not even alone—going to a foreign country, what hardship she’ll face! Causing trouble everywhere!”

His face was a tangled mess of worry and concern for his daughter. Florence, too, felt like crying. Not from worry, but from anger and betrayal.

“Grand Duke, I am truly sorry. It’s all my fault for raising my daughter poorly… Please forgive us. I will return every last item you sent as gifts, and I will pay ample compensation! I beg your forgiveness with my head bowed!”

No matter what huge disaster she had caused, Mariann was Raoul Viscount’s one and only child, so precious he would never tire of looking at her. And now, carrying a child in her womb, she was crossing the border to another country with some scoundrel—his heart was not just bruised but reduced to ashes.

The Grand Duke had a fearsome reputation as a terrifying hunting hound—he might order people to track down and bring Mariann back. If that happened, not only would Mariann be executed for treason against the imperial family, but the entire household would face annihilation. So he knelt on the floor, prostrating himself, and wept aloud.

“It’s all my fault for raising my daughter poorly! I will accept the punishment!”

“That’s enough, get up. You’re not the only one who’s been shocked.”

The Grand Duke’s voice carried little emotion. His attitude suggested he didn’t care in the least whether Viscount Raoul knelt or stood on his head. His gaze was fixed solely on Florence, who wore a dazed expression.

Meanwhile, Florence was in a state of quiet panic. She had expected—no, she had consoled herself—that when her uncle and aunt came, the marriage would naturally be undone. It felt like a house she had spent years building had crumbled to pieces in an instant.

Forcing her choked voice out, she asked.

“Th-then, what happens to this marriage now…?”