Chapter 12

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: This Marriage Will Definitely Succeed (12)

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‘Well, I do have a past where I had to listen to such words with rapt attention.’

Ivonne had a long history of mocking Iona’s appearance.

Ever since entering puberty, Ivonne had given her nicknames like ugly duckling, monster, and skeleton, relentlessly teasing her.

Thanks to that, even during her social debut season when she received dance invitations from countless men, Iona truly believed her face was hideous.

Of course, after that day, Ivonne’s insults shifted to “a vulgar wench just like your mother,” which was hardly a fortunate change.

Iona traced the wall with her fingertips and whispered to Ivonne as if soothing her.

“Don’t worry, Ivonne. If even the daughter’s pronunciation gets slurred after the son’s, Father won’t hold back anymore. I have that much discernment.”

Ivonne gritted her teeth in fury, but her legs gave out, leaving her unable to stand properly as she merely fidgeted with her toes.

Just then, Marsha stepped into the hallway, and the sound of a door opening echoed from behind.

Iona turned away from Ivonne without a second thought.

Only then did Ivonne’s maid rush over to help her mistress to her feet.

Half-risen, Ivonne shoved her maid away in irritation and snapped.

“You ignorant, vulgar thing! How dare a wretch like you spout such insolence at me?”

Iona ignored Ivonne’s curses and headed downstairs.

Ivonne hurriedly dashed to the staircase railing and grabbed it.

“Wait! I said wait!”

Even then, Iona didn’t stop, so Ivonne squeezed her eyes shut.

Ivonne bellowed like thunder.

“You’ve ruined our entire family!”

“……”

“And yet what right do you have to strut around this house with your head held high, too proud to even apologize to us!”

Her shout reverberated through the entire mansion, and then silence fell everywhere.

Iona had stopped walking at some point and was now looking up at Ivonne from the stairs below.

Ivonne bit her lip and spat out.

“Don’t forget. Because of you, we couldn’t even see Mother’s final moments.”

It was a topic Ivonne dragged up whenever she wanted to resent Iona.

Seeing Ivonne’s hands tremble on the railing, Iona suddenly felt weary.

Weary of these repeated scenes, of having to rehash the cause every time.

Five years ago, the late Countess Modroff hadn’t called for her husband or her legitimate children in her final moments, just as Ivonne said.

Instead, she had called for her husband’s illegitimate child from long ago—the cursed bastard.

Nils and Ivonne had harbored resentment for a long time over the fact that it was Iona, of all people, who had been at their mother’s deathbed.

Ivonne had disliked Iona from the start, but after that day, she gained even more plausible grounds for her grudge.

Every time Ivonne brought up their mother’s death, Iona wondered if it would have been better to reveal the countess’s final words to them.

But after much deliberation, she always arrived at the same conclusion.

“That’s a pity. I’m the only one who remembers her last words.”

Iona pulled her hat down and replied offhandedly as she descended the remaining stairs.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—there were no footsteps following her.

“……Haha. It seems our youngest is jealous that someone as young and handsome as you, Duke, has taken an interest in her. She’s usually such a quiet girl, but…… ha……”

Count Modroff trailed off weakly, as if even he realized the excuse didn’t make sense.

His final laugh was almost a sigh.

Gazing at the man’s dirt-pale face, Leroy inwardly marveled.

‘I didn’t mishear that.’

He hadn’t expected the imperial family to introduce him to a proper household, but this exceeded even his wildest imaginings.

It wasn’t every day one walked into a family quarrel upon formally visiting to meet his prospective bride.

He hadn’t caught every word, but the snippets that reached his ears were enough to leave a strong impression.

“You ignorant, vulgar thing!”

“You’ve ruined our entire family!”

“What right do you have…… to strut around with your head held high. Too proud to……”

They were hardly words that would come from a harmonious family.

At least it was a relief that the voice wasn’t his fiancée’s.

Still, he couldn’t exactly be thrilled to hear such one-sided vitriol.

“I see.”

Leroy replied curtly.

He had no desire to utter insincere words just to rescue the man from his predicament.

At Leroy’s cold demeanor, Count Modroff began to break out in cold sweat.

The count might feel quite unjustified in this situation.

He probably hadn’t anticipated his guest arriving ten minutes early, breaching etiquette by not observing the proper waiting time.

Leroy wasn’t entirely without excuses himself.

“Why not go inside and wait?”

“Isn’t peering into an unprepared household after arriving fashionably early a breach of manners in itself?”

“They’d be horrified to learn your carriage was circling the area for an hour. Is that proper etiquette?”

“If the other party doesn’t know, then of course.”

He had quelled Yonas’s complaints, but Leroy wasn’t exactly in a position to boast.

Arriving an hour early and loitering around was excessive by any nation’s standards of courtesy.

Gazing at the scenery repeatedly flashing by outside the window, Leroy finally admitted to himself that he had been quite looking forward to today’s meeting.

In the end, he had decided to commit the rudeness of arriving ten minutes early—for Yonas’s sake, who complained of back pain, or perhaps using it as an excuse.

Thanks to that, he’d learned about the count’s family affairs, which was a small harvest in itself.

“More importantly, Duke, let’s not stand here—shall we move to the drawing room? You can rest comfortably, and I’ll fetch my daughter……”

“No need for that. She’s coming down right now.”

Leroy cut off Count Modroff’s invitation and looked up the stairs.

Just then, the sound of footsteps was approaching from upstairs.

The moment the woman rounded the landing and came into view, Leroy instinctively froze.

Was it the change in attire? The woman who entered his sight was utterly different from the one he’d encountered in the palace corridor days ago.

‘If I were some lecherous playboy, I might have proposed on the spot.’

Leroy quickly composed himself, dismissing the absurd notion.

But truthfully, the woman was stunning enough to provoke such a reaction.

She had stood out even in that shabby uniform, so it was only natural she’d draw attention when properly dressed.

As Leroy gazed at her plump lips, the same shade as her eyes, he deliberately averted his gaze. He couldn’t deny he was sending her an impolite stare.

The woman descending into the lobby seemed equally rattled upon noticing him.

Realizing the guest had arrived earlier than expected, she reflexively glanced back upstairs, as if mindful of the recent quarrel.

But the hesitation was brief. She soon approached them with steady steps.

Count Modroff welcomed his stepdaughter with exaggerated warmth.

“Iona. I was just about to send someone for you—perfect timing. The duke has just arrived.”

“Hello, Duke Leroy. I apologize for the late welcome. If you’d sent word ahead, I would have come down sooner.”

“I should be the one apologizing for arriving early in my impatience. I was greatly anticipating today’s meeting.”

Leroy stepped forward naturally after Count Modroff and took Iona’s hand.

After lightly kissing the back of it and lifting his head, he met her smiling face.

It was the expression of someone who knew his greeting wasn’t entirely sincere.

He hadn’t expected her to blush like other ladies, but this reaction was unexpected.

“……I, too, have been counting the days until I could see you again.”

She replied slowly in a calm voice.

A flicker of genuine delight shimmered in her crimson eyes, peeking through lowered lashes.

She truly was an enigmatic woman.

Especially since her polite lie rang more true than his own.