MBSGBC 13

Chapter 13

With those words, it meant she already knew that I had broken off the engagement.

I quietly looked toward the lady who had spoken. Yes, a familiar face.

“Viscountess Poir.”

Her relationship with me was a bit complicated.

On the surface, she had no connection to me or the Oker family. But having lived through my past life, I knew—her older brother on her maternal side had invested in the Oker Trading Company.

I was one of Oker’s investment targets.

Because Pascal Oker’s plan had been to marry a noblewoman like me, gain the upper hand among the capital’s trading companies, and dominate the commercial world. Now that it had fallen through, I must have been an eyesore to him.

“There was talk of marriage, but it never progressed.”

“Oh my, Lady Otreha. How fortunate that you came to the flower viewing party. The garden is so beautiful that even flower blossoms broken from their branches and left to roll on the ground don’t spoil the scenery here.”

Short bursts of laughter broke out from those nearby.

“What became of the engagement talks with the Oker family? I heard the trading company head went to great lengths to gild the old family tree of a baronial house just to welcome you.”

I smiled brightly at her.

“Thanks to that, I was lucky enough to pick out a spoiled fruit. It looked glossy on the outside, but inside, worms had eaten through and even new shoots were sprouting.”

The eyes of the ladies watching our exchange sparkled. I leisurely inhaled the scent of a flower blooming on a nearby tree and added,

“He was such a diligent man that he’d already prepared to carry on the family line even before marriage. His plate was too much for me to handle, so I respectfully declined. If you care for the Oker Trading Company head, Viscountess, how about finding him another match?”

Viscountess Poir furrowed her brow and covered her lips with her hand.

It seemed she hadn’t known about the pregnant lover Pascal had.

A lady who was unaware of the circumstances chimed in with a shocked voice.

“Oh my. It seems having illegitimate children is becoming a trend among the young these days!”

A hellish silence followed. Everyone had realized that her words also referenced the Duke of Voltain.

The lady who had unwittingly exclaimed shut her mouth, glancing around at the others.

It was Countess Chastang’s icy voice that broke the silence.

“Illegitimate children… You must mean that rumor spreading like wildfire through every dress shop in the capital. The one about Duke Voltain carrying a child of unknown origin and playing escort to some lady.”

Countess Chastang’s sharp gaze lingered on the green gem hanging at my neck.

“Lady Otreha. I hear you’ve been having frequent dealings with the Duke of Voltain lately. Have you seen the protagonist of that frivolous play with your own eyes?”

My mood suddenly soured. Lucian’s adorable face came to mind.

That innocent, lovely child could never be reduced to the subject of cheap gossip. Who would dare?

“I don’t know much about the rest.”

I took great care to appear elegant as I continued in a slow voice.

“But I could tell that His Grace the Duke dearly loves that child. So much so that I think if anyone were to discuss the child’s birth and it reached his ears… he might take it as a challenge to the honor of Voltain.”

“Hah!”

A sharp voice shot out from among the surrounding ladies.

“Whether that child is the seed of the Voltain house or the seed of some other lowborn man—time will soon tell.”

“Exactly. Who can believe in the chastity of a woman who bore a child without marrying?”

“To begin with, the current Duke of Voltain is a man of eccentricities. He suddenly entered the Magic Tower, saying he wanted to be a mage…”

“Why does the royal family hold such a man in such high regard…”

Viscountess Poir’s gaze, never missing the flow of the conversation, turned toward me.

“Oh my. Now that you mention it, Lady Otreha, aren’t you also a mage?”

There it was—she was going to latch onto this after all.

In noble society, magic was often dismissed as a vile act that defiled the divine.

This was an unavoidable attack.

In aristocratic circles, mages were looked down upon. Magic was dirty, grueling work—a lowly act that profaned sanctity.

But I was glad I was a mage.

If I hadn’t been a mage, how could I have escaped that marriage? That alone made the choice to become a mage worth it.

“Yes, I am a certified mage of the Magic Tower. There, they teach you to see the substance, not the shell. I take pride in that.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

Viscountess Poir, seizing the opportunity, tapped her lips with her handkerchief and laughed.

“No wonder they said that no matter how much you adorn yourself with splendid jewels, the smell of dust never fades. Lady Otreha’s family tree is certainly being dyed in quite colorful hues.”

“Viscountess Poir.”

At that moment, Countess Chastang’s voice silenced the commotion in the hall.

“Magic is indeed dirty and grueling work, but it also carries the honor of allowing one to enter the Knights’ Order even without being a knight. Do not forget that.”

Her voice was frosty.

“Unless you intend to insult my sons, who are hunting demons beyond the capital’s peaceful walls!”

At her chilling tone, I unconsciously recalled a fact I had momentarily forgotten.

The reason Countess Chastang was recognized as having great authority even in the capital was because her house commanded the Behemoth Knights, who subjugated demons.

At the same time, her husband and two sons were honorable knights who set an example by personally going out on demon subjugation campaigns.

Alongside the mages attached to the Knights.

Viscountess Poir’s complexion turned pale in an instant. She quickly apologized.

“Countess Chastang, I—I didn’t mean it that way…”

“There’s no need to apologize to me. Do not come to my residence until the next invitation is issued.”

Countess Chastang, still with that chilling gaze that looked like it could easily fell a cow, spoke to me.

“Lady Otreha. You’ve had an unpleasant experience today.”

“Not at all. I couldn’t be more delighted to have seen the famous glass greenhouse with my own eyes.”

“No, even so, this won’t do.”

She slightly raised her fan, and maids carrying small boxes approached. They led me to a small side room and adorned me with a new set of earrings and a necklace—a costly set of slightly pink-tinged pearls and diamonds, unmistakably expensive.

As I emerged from the room with a bewildered expression, the maids carrying the boxes followed behind me.

The ladies who saw me after I came out had their expressions soften slightly.

“Yes. Those pearls suit Lady Otreha far better. Today, you may go home wearing the Chastang taste. I’ll have your previous jewelry sent to your carriage.”

“Countess, such an excessive gift…”

“Refusing an elder’s goodwill is also a breach of etiquette.”

Countess Chastang, speaking unhurriedly, raised her voice toward Viscountess Poir and her group, who were staring at us with expressions of utter shock and horror.

“So many eyes that cannot appreciate flowers. If you have no intention of admiring them, then leave at once.”

At the Countess’s command, the ladies retreated like the ebbing tide. In a daze, I fidgeted with the necklace. Countess Chastang, watching me, approached and whispered lowly.

“Lady Otreha. I didn’t help you just because you’re pretty.”

I stiffened and looked at her. Countess Chastang was a true noblewoman who rarely showed any change in expression, so I had no way of knowing what she was feeling.

“My second son seems to owe you a debt of gratitude. I shall summon you again before long.”

The Countess turned away calmly. The pearls around my neck suddenly felt as heavy as lead.

Countess Chastang’s second son?

…Who?