Chapter 99
I’ve Never Seen Anyone With Such Extreme Rumors
“You know, I think you’re the first person I’ve ever met with such extreme, conflicting rumors about you.”
Sigh… what a tiresome type of people.
Mercian felt a wave of exhaustion as she listened to Susan, who spoke without knowing anything. She realized once again that Susan was the same kind of person as Lucianne—superficial, gossipy, and eager to stir trouble.
“M-Milady, shall I call the guard knights?” Charles asked, glancing at Mercian with concern.
Mercian shook her head lightly, signaling that it wasn’t necessary.
She knew this type of human better than anyone: strong against the weak, weak against the strong…
In the past, she would have avoided pointless conflicts to prevent unnecessary commotion. But now, if she let herself back down, the ridiculous rumors they spouted would soon be taken as truth.
Mercian turned her serene, bright smile on Susan and her entourage.
“Countess, may I ask… did you witness it yourself?” she inquired calmly.
“Huh? Witness what?” Susan replied, slightly taken aback.
“I asked whether you saw my husband personally visit the Crown Princess to request that she make me her younger sister. Or did you hear the Crown Princess ask him to support me herself?”
Susan hesitated, caught off guard by Mercian’s unwavering gaze, then quickly scanned the surroundings.
No Olivia. No Ruan. Not a single ally to back her up.
What… could it be that she’s so blinded by the idea of becoming the Duchess that she sees nothing else?
“S-Sorry, Duchess, I just meant… you have no reason to meet the Crown Princess, so hearing you suddenly became sworn sisters—it sounded strange. Then I suppose you’ll tell us yourself how you became sisters with the Crown Princess,” Susan stammered.
After the ball, endless rumors circulated about Mercian and Petrica’s relationship. Some said Ruan, knowing that a commoner could never marry a noble, secretly asked Petrica for help. Others claimed Petrica approached Ruan with the proposal.
Regardless of the truth, the nobles had only one concern: whether what they saw at the ball was real.
If Mercian and Petrica were truly sworn sisters, then the Crown Princess, though powerless, would have the backing of the most powerful house in the empire—the Canolup Ducal Family—through Mercian’s husband.
If that became accepted as fact, it could even shift influence in the royal family from Bianca to Petrica.
But since the ball, Petrica had said nothing, and the royal household remained under Bianca’s authority. So the nobles assumed Mercian and Ruan’s marriage was just a trivial matter.
In this context, other noblewomen also turned to Mercian with curious eyes as Susan spoke.
“Countess, I don’t need to explain how I became sworn sisters with the Crown Princess. That’s between the Crown Princess and me. But one thing you must understand: spreading slander about the Crown Princess is an insult to your own face as a citizen of the empire.”
“W-What did you say?”
“Have you never considered that I could accuse you of treason against the royal family?”
“T-Treason? We were only sharing rumors! And isn’t it true that the Crown Princess has no power?” one of the noblewomen beside Susan shouted.
“Perhaps the Crown Princess currently has little power, but that won’t last forever. As you’ve heard, my husband holds considerable influence in the empire. So watch your words carefully. Understood?” Mercian’s warning drained the color from their faces.
Mercian had imprisoned her own sister before; putting them in prison would be nothing. And everyone knew just how deeply Ruan loved Mercian.
If their words reached Ruan, it wouldn’t just be them in danger—their entire family could be at risk.
One noblewoman, stunned into silence, suddenly clapped her hands.
“Oh my, I just remembered I have an errand and must leave early. Duchess, please forgive my earlier words. I sometimes misspeak at my age. Congratulations again on your marriage, and I look forward to seeing you at the wedding. Countess, we’ll see each other another time. Farewell.”
With that, the other noblewomen awkwardly smiled, offering half-apologies before hurrying out, leaving only Susan behind.
“Countess, is there anything else you wish to say?” Mercian asked.
Susan clenched her fists. So, she’s officially a duchess now, huh?
Annoyance surged at Mercian’s calm, commanding demeanor. She trusts the duke and struts around… now, even Ruan loves her. But love can’t always be trusted. One day, I’ll make her pay for this.
Realizing staying would do her no good, Susan forced a smile.
“No, Duchess. You’ve changed a lot since we last met. I hope to see you again,” she said, bowing hastily before leaving.
“Milady, that was incredible!” Charles exclaimed.
“Well, having dealt with troublesome customers at the sandwich shop in Penomenon village, people like that are nothing,” Mercian replied with a smile. “Now, shall we finish selecting the tableware?”
Charles laughed, and Clea smiled.
“Milady, here’s the set of dishes you were looking for,” she said.
***
“All the dishes will be sent to the Ducal House. Now it’s time to choose dresses.”
“Clea, I already have so many dresses… Do I really need more?”
“Milady, we are meeting the Emperor himself. The Ducal House’s honor is at stake. Your husband said money is no object, so leave it to us,” Clea said.
Mercian reluctantly nodded.
“Oh, Milady, you look even more beautiful than the last time we met before your wedding. It seems you’re receiving the Duke’s love fully. Today, he’s rented this entire boutique for you. Please, choose freely,” the shop owner said.
Rented the entire boutique for a day? Wow… this is outrageous.
Guided by Clea and Charles, Mercian stepped inside, offering a shy smile at the Madame’s words.
“Please choose a dress that complements her elegance, as she will visit the royal palace,” Clare instructed.
“Ah, elegance… there’s just the perfect dress that arrived recently. Please wait a moment.”
The Madame returned with a dress that shimmered in a soft silver, with pearls delicately decorating the neckline and skirt, giving it a graceful and refined air.
“This… will it fit me?” Mercian asked, concerned that the tight bodice might split. The Madame, however, assured her with a smile.
“Try it on first,” she said.
Inside the fitting room, Mercian slipped into the dress.
“Wow… it’s beautiful! And surprisingly comfortable,” she said, moving carefully.
The attendant laughed. “It’s not just pretty—it suits you perfectly. Though it looks tight, the fabric stretches, so you can move freely.”
“I like it,” Mercian said, smiling.
“Shall we go see?”
Exiting the room, Clea and Charles gaped at her.
“Milady, it looks perfect! Absolutely stunning! Isn’t that right, head maid?”
“The pearls around the neckline give the impression of a necklace, so no additional accessories are needed. Milady, do you like it?”
“I do.”
“See? This dress is made for you. No adjustments needed.”
“This will be the palace dress. Next, the home party dress,” Mercian said.
“Home party?”
“Yes, today we’ll choose the palace dress, the home party dress, and a winter outer garment the master specially requested,” Clea explained.
***
As the Ducal House prepared for the home party, a week passed swiftly.
“Milady, I’ve come to escort you.”
Mercian followed the steward to the carriage provided by the palace and soon arrived at the royal palace.
“Duchess, this way.”
Walking through the long corridor with ceilings three times her height and massive pillars stretching to the end, Mercian marveled at the palace’s grandeur.
It was truly magnificent.
As she followed the steward, Mercian noticed a familiar figure ahead.
“Who is that?”
Pointing, Mercian asked the steward, who glanced back.
“That’s a palace maid, Milady.”
Mercian nodded and watched the maid disappear from sight.
***
“Mercian, welcome. Please, have a seat.”
Mercian bowed politely before Viseluke in the audience chamber.
“Were you surprised that I asked to see you?” he asked.
“A little. When you spoke at the ball, I thought you were merely making conversation,” Mercian replied honestly.
“Honesty is good. Now… do you have a preferred tea?”
“I like all tea, Your Majesty,” Mercian said.
“Very well. I personally enjoy jasmine tea.”
“I do as well.”
“Mercian… you carry many rumors and stories.”
“Pardon?”
Viseluke sipped his tea, eyes fixed on her.
“I’ve lived long, heard many tales, but I think you’re the first person I’ve ever met with such extreme, conflicting rumors.”
