Chapter 5

Damien had thought he would feel better after humiliating Clementine Cornille…

But he didn’t.

“So, Your Grace, has your grudge been satisfied now?”

As they rode back together in the carriage, Olivier asked.

“After taking a single table away from that poor young lady.”

He said it jokingly, but he was quietly scolding Damien.

Olivier Rochemont had always been a kind and honorable gentleman.

“You don’t have to be so formal when it’s just the two of us.”

Damien replied.

“…You’re someone special to me, Olivier.”

He meant it sincerely.

Fortunately, Olivier had never taken that privilege for granted or become arrogant because of it.

“And to answer your question…”

Damien added calmly,

“…No.”

“I’m still not satisfied.”

Although Clementine Cornille had looked troubled and discouraged…

Her pride had not truly been broken.

For some reason, whenever he stood in front of her…

Damien felt as if he had become that miserable illegitimate child again.

Even though she herself had fallen into far greater poverty than he had ever imagined.

“…Something is still missing.”

The feeling frustrated him.

Not understanding his own emotions irritated him.

“You hate that woman so much…”

Olivier said.

“Yet you ended up doing her a favor.”

“A security deposit far below market price, and you even gave her extra time to pay.”

“You looked like an incredibly generous landlord.”

“Things just turned out that way.”

At least he had managed to catch Clementine off guard once.

For now, Damien decided that would have to be enough.

“I don’t think this is only about your resentment toward Count Montauban.”

Seeing Damien less defensive, Olivier carefully continued.

“Did something happen between you and that young lady in the past?”

“I suppose…”

Damien was about to avoid the question.

Then he changed his mind.

For some reason, he wanted to say it as if it meant nothing.

“…She once sent me a letter.”

“Saying she wanted nothing to do with a filthy bastard like me.”

“What? Really?”

Olivier stared in shock.

“She didn’t seem like someone who would do something like that…”

The Clementine he had just met had seemed as gentle as a lily of the valley.

She hardly looked like someone brave enough to make an enemy of anyone.

“I thought the same thing.”

But Damien had long since convinced himself otherwise.

“…I still have that letter.”

“Why haven’t you thrown away something so unpleasant?”

Damien couldn’t answer.

He didn’t know the reason himself.

“Forget it.”

Forcing himself to ignore the lingering feelings inside him, Damien declared,

“I’m the one who’s noble now.”

“And she’s the miserable one.”

It sounded less like a statement to Olivier…

And more like a declaration of victory to himself.

“Well then.”

Olivier smiled brightly.

“Now that we’ve taken care of the troublesome business, let’s prepare for the first ball to be held at Bellefontaine.”

The carriage carrying the two men continued down the dusty road.

Several days passed.

Bellefontaine Castle was bustling with activity as it welcomed its new lord.

The Duke’s banners were raised.

Silverware was polished.

Furniture chosen to match Damien’s tastes was brought in.

The oak table taken from Clementine Cornille now stood in one corner of Damien’s study.

It was his trophy.

Every time he sat there to read or write letters…

He remembered Clementine lowering her eyes, unable to argue against him.

“…Your Grace!”

Today, while Damien was reviewing documents at that very table, a visitor arrived.

“I came as soon as I received your invitation!”

It was Celine Mangala, proudly lifting her chin.

“The air in the countryside is so fresh.”

“It seems like the perfect place to go hunting.”

“The honor is mine.”

Damien greeted her politely.

“I’m glad you made the journey.”

“It wasn’t too inconvenient traveling all the way from the capital, was it?”

“Of course not!”

Celine shook her head enthusiastically.

“Any opportunity to spend time with Your Grace is always a joy!”

Her brown eyes sparkled.

She wasn’t an ugly woman…

But she wasn’t particularly beautiful either.

By Damien Lambert’s high standards…

Celine Mangala was merely average in appearance.

However…

Her family background more than made up for it.

The Mangala family had accumulated enormous wealth by entering the rapidly growing military industry during the kingdom’s industrial expansion.

“This ball is to celebrate your new estate, isn’t it?”

Celine waved the invitation with her gloved hand.

“But I am curious about something.”

She tilted her head.

“Why did you buy this place?”

“It just seems like an ordinary countryside estate.”

Damien didn’t think the question deserved an answer.

He simply smiled faintly.

“Hadn’t His Majesty already given you magnificent lands like Bellombre?”

Unfortunately…

His silence only made Celine even more curious.

“I heard the previous owner invested in a rubber factory and lost everything.”

“That’s why he sold this estate so cheaply.”

“That’s correct.”

Fortunately, there was a reasonable explanation she could accept.

“It was available at an attractive price.”

That sounded much more convincing than simply saying…

“Because I wanted it.”

“Well, everyone is desperately looking for investments these days.”

Celine accepted the explanation without much thought.

“Anyway!”

“I’m really looking forward to your ball.”

“It’s been so long since you hosted one.”

“In fact…”

Damien replied,

“This will practically be my first.”

“My mother always organized every party before.”

“Oh, that’s true!”

“Will Lady Saint-Fleur be attending this one as a guest?”

Celine’s eyes lit up.

She clearly wanted to win the favor of the kingdom’s most infamous mistress before her marriage.

“My mother won’t be attending.”

“She’s accompanying His Majesty on a diplomatic tour abroad.”

“Oh, so only Her Majesty the Queen is at the palace now.”

“I visited recently.”

Celine raised an eyebrow playfully.

“She didn’t seem to be in a very good mood.”

Naturally.

No queen would be happy while her husband openly traveled with his mistress.

“I suppose it can’t be helped.”

Damien answered mildly.

“Prince Caesar’s health continues to decline.”

Prince Caesar was the King’s only legitimate son.

Technically…

He was Damien’s half-brother.

But he had been sickly since childhood.

Damien had never cared much about him.

“How unfortunate.”

Celine said the words…

Though she looked anything but sympathetic.

She quickly forgot about the subject.

“Anyway!”

“Let me see the guest list!”

Interested only in the upcoming entertainment, she eagerly leaned forward.

Damien searched through his papers and handed her the list.

“I hope some familiar faces are attending.”

She slowly scanned the names one by one.

“…Clementine Cornille of the House of Count Montauban?”

Her eyes stopped near the bottom.

“Those names haven’t been confirmed yet.”

Damien replied casually.

“Since she’s a noble living within my territory, I simply included her on the preliminary list…”

“I know who she is!”

Celine suddenly interrupted excitedly.

“Do you know her personally?”

Damien asked, surprised.

Clementine didn’t seem like the sort of woman who would associate with someone like Celine Mangala.

“Oh my.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know?”

Celine jumped to her feet and walked toward the bookshelf in the drawing room.

The shelves hadn’t been organized yet.

They contained books left behind by the previous owner, not Damien’s collection.

“She’s actually become quite a popular author these days.”

“…Popular?”

“Yes.”

“Her last novel even became fashionable among the ladies of the royal court for a while.”

Then Celine pulled out a book.

“See? Here’s one.”

The title read:

The Season of Sobs.

And beneath it…

The author’s name.

Clementine Cornille.

“…A Gothic novel.”

Damien frowned.

“Oh, right.”

“You don’t like this sort of lowbrow literature, do you, Your Grace?”

Celine hurriedly corrected herself.

“I mostly read respectable books too…”

“But these are entertaining when you’re bored.”

Damien remained silent.

His eyes stayed fixed on the name printed on the cover.

“Your Grace…”

“Would you please invite her too?”

Completely unaware of the subtle change in his expression, Celine smiled sweetly.

“I’ve heard Gothic novelists are all bizarre, eccentric people!”

She laughed to herself.

“Wouldn’t it be amusing to have someone like that at the party?”

“…I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, come now!”

“If she’s a noble living in your territory, proper etiquette requires inviting her anyway.”

Celine continued insisting.

Without realizing it…

Damien looked toward Clementine’s oak table.

His trophy.

The surface still bore the scratches and marks she had left behind.

He had already examined every one of them.

Yet…

It still wasn’t enough.

It was far from enough.

Yes.

Celine was right.

Every noble’s party needed a fool…

Someone to be humiliated for everyone’s amusement.

And more than anyone else…

Damien wanted Clementine Cornille to play that role.

“…Very well.”

“I’ll invite her.”

A cold smile slowly curled across Damien’s lips.

It sounded…

Very entertaining.