DCEB | CH 22

Chapter 22: The Owner of the Bedroom (3) 

Eleanor became aware of the maids quietly waiting nearby and slowly looked around the bedroom.

The first thing she noticed was the cool and refreshing air.

Through the wide-open window, she could see the garden as the sun started to set.

‘Ah, I can see it clearly from here.’

It was different from her original room, where she had to sneak glances from upstairs.

She had a thought.

‘Katrina must’ve been able to see everything from here.’

In the past, the true owner of this bedroom wasn’t Eleanor, the Duchess—it was Katrina Blanche.

That woman had already taken over the room.

‘I heard there’s a Duchess’s bedroom. Isn’t that supposed to be mine?’

When she complained, shocked, the reaction had been intense.

‘You should know your place! How dare you try to take the young lady’s room too?’

‘As expected of the Grace family. Don’t worry, my lady. We won’t let such rudeness happen again!’

‘You’re too greedy. You really think you’re a proper duchess? It’s okay, child. Don’t cry. I won’t let them take what’s yours.’

Pulling herself out of her memories, Eleanor looked around again.

“Did you say this is my bedroom?”

She looked around the room like a polite guest.

The Duchess’s bedroom had been passed down with repairs and care for generations—it was elegant and peaceful.

The carved mahogany furniture gave off a pleasant scent.

Everywhere she looked, she saw beautiful golden details and patterns.

The soft pink and white colors created a gentle and graceful atmosphere.

She worried that her flashy belongings might ruin the harmony of the room.

‘And also…’

She felt like a child who had never received a gift before, now overwhelmed with boxes of presents.

Her heart was full.

Even though she used to say the room’s owner didn’t matter, deep inside, she felt happy.

Her fingertips traced the family crest on a tapestry, then her eyes moved to a painting of a blue sky and sea.

‘The 12th piece by the great artist Elaniel.’

She noticed the detailed carvings on the columns and the elegant vanity made from ivory-colored marble.

“We’re organizing everything with the belongings you brought. Do you like it?”

Marie approached with a warm smile.

Eleanor stared at her blushing cheeks before opening her mouth.

She wasn’t sure if it was okay to say she liked it.

“Is this really my bedroom?”

When she asked again, Marie giggled like a young girl.

“Of course! All the past duchesses have used this bedroom.”

Eleanor moved again.

She passed a large table under the ticking wall clock.

And then—she saw the most beautiful part of the room.

A large, soft canopy bed.

The round frame and rich decorations looked like a birdcage—elegant and delicate.

Eleanor gently touched the soft sheets and looked at Marie.

“I didn’t expect to be given the Duchess’s room.”

There was a pause.

Marie looked unsure of what to say, then took a deep breath and answered.

“That’s only natural. Even though we acted rudely earlier… this room is now yours. It’s the Duke’s will.”

Marie seemed to understand Eleanor’s feelings well.

Her gentle tone showed she was worried about hurting Eleanor.

So Eleanor gave a bitter smile inside.

No, Marie. When I first came here as the Duke’s wife, this room already belonged to another woman.

It was the start of everything breaking inside Eleanor—the moment she began to lose hope.

The Duchess’s bedroom.

It was one day, during a time of cold treatment and rejection.

She was pretending to be strong and cruel, wearing the mask of a wicked wife.

Without thinking, she found herself staring at the open door of this room, where a warm scent came from.

She couldn’t even see the whole view before someone inside looked back at her.

‘Eleanor?’

It was Katrina.

Her eyes looked at Eleanor with pity.

‘Why are you wandering here? Get out now!’

Next to her was Eleanor’s mother-in-law.

She had shouted like it was a scream, making Eleanor feel like a thief caught in the act.

The shame and anger from that day…

What hurt even more was that Katrina had dared to pity her.

“Madam, do you see that door?”

Marie came close and gently covered Eleanor’s hand with her wrinkled one.

It was warm and soft.

With a shy smile, the older woman whispered kindly.

Eleanor realized no one had spoken to her with such warmth in a long time.

“The first Duke and Duchess were very close.

They didn’t want to be apart, so they built a door between their rooms.”

Eleanor followed her pointing finger and looked at the door.

‘I know. I know it well.’

That’s why her heart always burned.

Because another woman was in the room connected to the Duke’s.

Did he open that door at night—or not?

She remembered Katrina’s sweet and friendly face all too clearly.

But strangely, the Duke and Katrina were rarely seen acting affectionate.

So she believed. She hoped and then was disappointed. Again and again.

In the end, the Duke’s woman was still Katrina.

‘The reason this room came to me.’

It was because Katrina hadn’t shown up yet.

If she came later, claiming again to be the Duke’s savior, would Eleanor lose this room again?

No. Even if Katrina wasn’t here, why was this room given to me so easily?

Maybe Marie was right.

Everything in this mansion happened according to Kylus’s will.

Whether he stayed silent or gave orders—it was always him.

Right now, Eleanor had no idea what the cold man was thinking when he gave her this room.

‘Does he trust our contract that much?’

Eleanor furrowed her brows.

Whenever she thought of him, she remembered the pain of death.

But strangely, today, a different memory was stronger.

Bubbling foam.

Short breaths inside it.

A strong hand pulling her up.

The way he looked at her with a wet face.

The calm, quiet eyes that hadn’t recognized her as the daughter of a monster.

She bit her lip, disgusted with herself for remembering.

Then, someone suddenly interrupted.

“What’s wrong? Is this room not good enough for a count’s spoiled daughter like you?”

A sharp voice filled with clear dislike.

Eleanor turned and saw Marie looking shocked, and several people from the count’s house glaring coldly.

Among them was a young maid, face red, but not backing down.

Some of the people helping move furniture were also from Eleanor’s family.

She clearly remembered that maid’s face.

She had always followed Katrina.

‘You’re a monster!’

‘How dare you talk to the Duchess like that—and why should I stay quiet?’

‘Stop stealing from the poor lady already!’

She had fallen for Katrina’s fake kindness and always looked at Eleanor with hate.

Eleanor used to just laugh it off.

She could’ve punished the maid but didn’t.

Now, the girl looked at her with the same hateful eyes.

But this time, Eleanor didn’t want to lie or pretend.

“No.”

The maid looked surprised, eyes wide.

Eleanor looked at her and quietly spoke.

She said what she had wanted to say back then.

“It’s not that I don’t like it.”

That’s not it.

In my eyes, my husband was so beautiful, precious, and lovable.

“I liked it.”

“W-what?”

But if I tried to hold on to him, we’d only hurt each other like porcupines in love.

Those moments were painful but still precious.

That never changed.

“I was happy. I wasn’t upset—I was just surprised this room was given to me.”

Even if there was anger, the time filled with love was precious.

She had to be the one to cherish herself.

Realizing that made her smile.