RBSP 9

Chapter 9

For two days after that, I stayed strictly inside the house. Although there was a reading circle I attended regularly, I simply couldn’t bring myself to sit there with a plastered-on smile and spout foolish nonsense like, “Oh, it seems Auster truly loved Jane from the bottom of his heart!”

The less I moved, the more the Count badgered me. Somehow, he had even managed to get his hands on the guest list for an upcoming gathering Prince Ian Hibernia was attending. In the past, he had never particularly considered Ian as a potential marriage prospect for me, but right now, he was acting like a fish that had just found water.

Furious at my stubborn silence, the Count went so far as to bang violently against my firmly locked bedroom door.

Naturally, I never opened it. It had only been two days. Just two days of keeping to my room, and he was raising this much of a fuss. Did he have any idea why I had changed, or what was going through my head? Truly, these were days when I wanted to see neither the Count nor Karlroy Windsor.

It was a full week after that day when a letter stamped with a golden seal finally arrived for me. On the day of its arrival, the Count went out of his way to hunt down the emergency key and picked the lock to my room.

“My proud daughter, Gloria!”

Ah. The Count being proud of me—what a horrifying sound.

Lying in bed, I felt goosebumps break out all the way down to my toes. I had just been thinking that it was about time for me to step outside, but for him to pick my lock and barge in, spouting such nauseating filth instead of reprimands, was repulsive. My confusion was cleared up the second I spotted the letter clutched in his hand.

Though it was absurd, to say the least.

“Father. Did you open my letter?”

What he handed me was neither a sealed envelope nor a letter opener. Inside the already unsealed envelope lay a piece of paper that had lost its original shape, carelessly crammed back into the casing.

“Because you were cooped up in your room! I was worried you might miss an important engagement!”

What a brazen excuse. No matter how much an unmarried child remains under their parents’ shadow, opening someone else’s mail at will was a severe breach of courtesy.

Fine, forget it. It was foolish to preach etiquette in front of a man who repeatedly divorced his wives under the most nonsensical pretenses.

“It is a letter from the Royal Palace, no less.”

Ignoring the Count’s pathetic excuses, I pulled the letter out. Instead of being properly folded and slipped inside, it had been stuffed in so haphazardly that it was strangely creased and crumpled. Sigh. As I let out an overt sigh, the Count’s mouth pursed tight into a pucker.

The moment I unfolded the stationary, a lovely fragrance wafted into the air. A scent I had smelled somewhere before—it was Ian’s perfume.

To handle a letter sent with such formal etiquette so carelessly… Another heavy sigh slipped from my lips.

“Even so, how dare you sigh right in front of your father? Do you think I did that for my own sake? I did it all for your good! You locked yourself in your room and wouldn’t come out, and a letter arrived from the Royal Palace. Naturally, I had to check it!”

The Count brazenly flared up in anger, continuing his nonsensical rant. I snapped the letter down onto my thighs, raised my head, and looked straight at him.

“I understand, so could you please step out?”

“W-What?”

“I asked you to leave. So I can read my letter.”

“Can’t you just read it with me here?!”

“Then feel free to stand right there.”

My brows furrowed in sharp irritation. He was a man who made it nearly impossible to speak politely.

“However, I will have no choice but to write in my reply how deeply apologetic I am that the letter arrived crumpled because my father opened it first.”

Until recently, the Count had looked down on Theodore with disdain when he went rampant, convinced I had lost my mind. But now, it seemed the Count believed I had gone mad, too.

A punching bag beaten black and blue with words in high society. A daughter living like a ghost in her own home, quietly keeping her mouth shut. I was utterly sick of it all.

“What shall I do? Should I write the reply this very instant?”

“Fine! I’ll leave! Satisfied?!”

At least he had enough awareness to feel embarrassed by the prospect. Grumbling under his breath, the Count spat out his grievances and stomped away. Only after he vanished from my room did quiet finally settle over my comfortable haven.

“Ha!”

Once the Count was gone, my irritation doubled. Whether at home or outside, the world was filled with nothing but people who looked down on me.

What a wretched, suffocating house.

Scoffing in frustration, I picked up the letter I had put down.

A delicate musk fragrance tickled my nose. The exact same scent that had lingered around Ian that day. I couldn’t even remember how long it had been since I last received a letter so refined and steeped in high-society etiquette.

A strange sense of calm settled over me, and I took a deep breath before letting it out.

[To Lady Gloria Gloucester.]

Right from the very top, my name was written accurately without a single spelling error. It was nothing extraordinary, yet it touched me slightly. As my annoyed mood settled down, the contents of the letter finally came into focus. Ah, yes—it was true what they said: even the smallest change of pace could lift one’s spirits.

As my eyes slowly scanned down the text, a vibrant spark returned to my gaze. This was an unexpected triumph.

“Anne! Are you outside?”

When I leaned out over the edge of the bed and called out, a sudden commotion broke out beyond the door. The sound of a man’s stern voice even carried through the walls. It seemed the Count was still lingering right outside.

“Yes, My Lady!”

The maid, Anne, burst the door open and rushed in. Through the gap in the doorway, the Count’s chubby cheeks were plainly visible. Ah, so that’s how it is?

“Father.”

“Ugh, y-yes?”

At my call, the Count flinched in surprise and poked his head inside. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he had been caught eavesdropping.

“His Highness Ian has invited me to the railway maiden run ceremony taking place next week. As you already know, of course.”

The Count’s eyes quivered violently. He clearly hadn’t expected me to explicitly point that part out. Honestly, my father knew far too little about me.

“He mentioned there is a dress code. It requires an accent in royal blue. Which you are also aware of, I presume.”

I deliberately emphasized the point. After all, a person should at least know how to feel ashamed of their own misdeeds.

The Count seemed more enraged by the humiliation than ashamed, but he didn’t dare unleash his anger at me. Positioned as he was—balancing on a tightrope between the Junior Duke of Windsor and the Second Prince—how could he possibly dare to get angry with me?

“However, it seems I don’t have a single blue dress in my dressing room.”

It was a lie. My wardrobe was practically bursting with blue-toned gowns perfectly suitable for a major event.

But what was wrong with a little lie? Most of the dresses I owned had been sponsored by dressmakers. Compared to other young ladies who wiped out several estates’ worth of fortune on gowns, I had been an extraordinarily cost-effective daughter.

Until now, I had no desire to waste Gloucester’s filthy money on tailored dresses… but so what? Spending that dirty money recklessly would be a far greater loss from the Count’s perspective anyway.

“O-Oh, is that so? Well, it has been a long time since you last had a dress made. Since His Highness the Prince invited you directly, you ought to dress with even greater formality.”

“Yes. It seems I will be needing a rather expensive and extravagant dress.”

“Ha… Haha. Right, of course. Doesn’t one naturally require a lot of dresses during the social season anyway? Since you haven’t ordered a single one this season, go ahead and order one.”

“My jewelry and accessories are lacking as well. I ought to wear a proper necklace, at the very least.”

“Don’t you already have more than enough of those?”

Even in the middle of this, the Count tried to weigh his options. Deliberately playing the tyrant, I tossed the letter onto the bed coverlet. The Count’s sharp gasp echoed loudly through the room.

“What should I do? Shall I get everything newly fitted and go meet His Highness, or should I just stay in my room and sleep?”

“Would this father of yours ever begrudge a little money?! Am I not the master of the Gloucester Merchant Alliance? Don’t worry about the money—just go and order the prettiest things you can find.”

Unable to withstand my veiled threat, the Count finally threw up the white flag. A marital connection with the Royal Family was not an opportunity that even the formidable Count Gloucester could easily come by.

“Ria. Listen to your father carefully. If His Highness the Prince happens to court you, you must accept his proposal.”

My brows involuntarily knit together at his words. Seeing my reaction, the Count rushed to explain himself.

“Of course, I know you are bound by a sacred engagement. But Ria, the alliance between our family and the Windsor family isn’t strictly contingent upon your marriage alone. The core of the pact dictates that a direct descendant of Gloucester marries a direct descendant of Windsor in exchange for managing the mining operations.”

“The only unmarried direct descendant in the Gloucester family right now is me. Surely you aren’t thinking of two-year-old Melody?”

At the thought of Mathias’s daughter, Melody, back at the estate, my expression twisted into a far more vicious scowl. That was an act vastly more despicable than using me for blackmail.

“No, no! What good would that infant be?”

Fortunately, proving he was still somewhat human, the Count denied it. However, the words that followed ultimately triggered a wave of nausea.

“I heard the Duke of Windsor’s sister has become a widow. What matters is that you marry into the Royal Family—the pact will pose no obstacle whatsoever to your path forward.”

Is he truly insane?

I couldn’t even hide the sheer disgust filling my eyes. Was he implying that, if push came to shove, he would simply take a seventh Countess Gloucester?

“Anne, Anne! Bring the basin—urgh!”

In the end, I failed to suppress the vomit surging up my esophagus to strike the back of my throat. Watching me heave into the basin Anne brought just in time, the Count stood there with a completely stunned, blank expression on his face.