Chapter 82
The moment Claudio left, the Marchioness of Severia asked,
“Truly, nothing happened at the party?”
Ah, so that was it. She must have summoned Marsha out of concern that she might have made a mistake at the gathering.
Since Claudio’s words couldn’t be fully trusted, perhaps she’d sent him away just to ask again.
Marsha swallowed her nerves and replied,
“Yes. It ended without incident. Fortunately, no one suspected my identity.”
“Oh, of course. Who would look at you and doubt you’re a lady of noble birth? But what I meant was, well… that is…”
How should she put it?
What the Marchioness truly wanted to ask was whether Claudio had done anything improper.
After all, parties often led to close contact, the atmosphere easily carried away by excitement.
Claudio wasn’t the type to lose himself to such things, but still—this was his first time experiencing love, and a one-sided one at that.
Did he perhaps, without realizing it, push his feelings onto Marsha against her will?
As the Marchioness hesitated, worry creasing her brow, Marsha spoke up,
“Really, the party ended without any problems. I was a little worried about Lady Hermes, but thankfully she didn’t attend, and as for the other young ladies—”
“Wait. Lady Hermes?”
The Marchioness’s face turned cold.
Marsha, startled, wondered if she had just insulted the woman destined to be queen of this country.
“I didn’t mean to speak ill of her. It’s just that—”
“I didn’t misunderstand you. And that woman deserves all the criticism she gets. Everyone speaks poorly of her behind her back.”
Marsha blinked in surprise at the unexpected response.
“But more than that—I find it curious. How did you know about Lady Hermes, or how the other young ladies fuss over the Duke?”
Fuss… unnecessarily…
Marsha thought it natural that such a handsome, accomplished man would stir envy, and replied,
“The Duke told me himself. That sometimes their behavior caused him trouble.”
Even if he claimed not to mind anymore, Marsha knew it hadn’t been easy.
“He told you that?”
The Marchioness was aghast. Marsha, flustered, nodded.
“Yes.”
“Haah…”
The Marchioness couldn’t suppress a groan at Claudio’s foolish choice.
What kind of man tells the woman he likes that other women pester him?
Of course, had Marsha been likely to meet Lady Hermes, a warning would have been wise—since that woman never respected boundaries.
But yesterday, Claudio had every means to protect Marsha.
Why tell her such things at all?
What else could it sound like but, ‘Beware, there are plenty of women after me’?
Clutching her throbbing temple, she heard Marsha’s cautious question,
“Was that something I shouldn’t have known?”
“No. Hardly. It’s common knowledge among the capital’s nobles.”
The Marchioness shook her head.
“True, many women have shown interest in the Duke because he remains unmarried, but there has never been an issue beyond his ability to handle. Lady Hermes was the most excessive, but once the royal marriage is sealed, she will surely come to her senses.”
Marsha had the faint impression that the Marchioness was making excuses for him, but she nodded politely.
“In any case, I’m relieved the party ended without incident. The Duke may be talented, but he’s also so wrapped up in his own pride that I feared he might behave rudely toward you.”
A weary smile touched the Marchioness’s lips.
She hadn’t managed to ask outright, but she’d found a way to circle the question.
Marsha exhaled in relief.
So it hadn’t been about her making mistakes at all.
Still… to her, the Duke seems like a troublesome child she must watch over.
It was the same kind of worry she’d expressed before.
Did the Marchioness think Claudio nothing more than a problem child?
Suppressing a laugh, Marsha said softly,
“You needn’t worry. The Duke was perfectly well-mannered.”
When he introduced her, he had been nothing but respectful.
Even while mingling with others, he’d checked on her often, making sure she had something to drink.
“…The Duke must hold you in high regard, Marsha. For him to act so gentlemanly is no small thing.”
“Well, I did help him once. Perhaps he considers me a little special because of that.”
“Hmm…”
The Marchioness pressed her chin, thinking deeply, then shook her head.
“No, it’s not merely because you saved him. Imagine if it had been some hulking man who rescued him. Would the Duke have hosted such a party in gratitude?”
Then, smiling at her, she added,
“It’s because it was you. You’re special, Marsha.”
“…!”
Marsha’s lips parted, then closed again.
A delicate blush spread over her cheeks like a wash of rose.
Oh, dear.
The Marchioness was taken aback. She had expected Marsha to deny it—perhaps with an awkward smile.
But this… this shy fluster, this warmth—
Perhaps the Duke is not the only one with feelings here…
In that case, what the two of them needed most was time alone.
Not at the Duke’s residence, where he would be tied to work.
No, now would be best.
With a refined smile, the Marchioness said,
“I wonder if the Duke is tending to Diamond properly. Would you go and check for me, Marsha?”
***
On her way to the stables, Marsha couldn’t stop the Marchioness’s words from ringing in her ears.
It’s because it was you.
You’re special, Marsha.
No.
No, that can’t be true.
She could now accept that the Marchioness thought well of her, but Claudio regarding her as “special”?
That she could never believe.
The more she tried not to dwell on it, the louder the Marchioness’s voice echoed in her mind.
She was still struggling when the servant announced,
“We’ve arrived.”
Marsha lifted her gaze.
Inside the wide outdoor training grounds, fenced for galloping, Claudio sat astride a white horse.
“What brings you here?”
He guided the horse toward her, dismounted with ease, and approached.
“The Marchioness asked me to check if you were taking good care of Diamond.”
“What? Why would she…”
He tilted his head, then leaned down suddenly, making Marsha jump.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“What? W-what are you saying all of a sudden?”
“Your face is very red.”
“M-mine?”
She touched her cheeks.
They did feel a little warm.
But Marsha knew well it wasn’t fever or illness that had colored her skin.
“It’s just the heat.”
“Is today such a hot day?”
“Anyone would get flushed after sitting and drinking hot tea…”
She fanned herself irritably with her hand.
Claudio straightened, folding his arms.
“And do you think that little hand-fan of yours helps?”
“It’s better than nothing.”
“Is it? Then how about something really refreshing?”
“…What do you mean?”
Marsha blinked.
He gestured with his thumb toward the white stallion behind him.
“You want me to ride?!”
“Why so surprised? It’s not your first time.”
He chuckled.
Truthfully, Marsha had only ever ridden with him—hardly enough to count.
Besides…
“I heard that horse doesn’t let just anyone on its back.”
“What? Did you think I’d let you ride alone?”
He raised a brow.
At once, Marsha remembered being pressed close against him before and quickly shook her head.
“No, that’s all right. I’ll pass.”
“Don’t refuse. A short run will cool you down.”
“It’ll only make me hotter.”
“How could it, when the wind’s in your face?”
Marsha bit her tongue.
How could she say it?
That the heat came not from the sun but from being so near him.
That the blush staining her cheeks was entirely his fault.
“No objections, then?”
With a smooth smile, Claudio scooped her up as though she were no heavier than a bouquet.
“Kyaa!”
Marsha shrieked in alarm.
To him, it was music like birdsong.
“W-what are you doing? I can walk on my own—!”
“The ground’s damp. This way’s safer for you.”
“N-no, really—!”
Diamond lowered its stance knowingly as Claudio carried her over.
Marsha’s vision swam—was she to endure this again?
But Claudio set her in the saddle, then mounted behind her, taking the reins in his hands.
The stallion sprang forward, gleefully circling the grounds.
“How is it? Better than your hand-fan?”
“…Yes…”
Her answer was weak.
He looked down at her.
Though he couldn’t see her face, the tips of her ears were burning red.
