Chapter 71

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: The Lily of Traon
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A week had passed since the wedding of the Grand Duke and Duchess of Erzet, yet stories about them still filled the newspapers and magazines day after day.
Today’s magazine featured a detailed article analyzing the Grand Duchess of Erzet. The piece praised her beauty and hailed the Grand Duke and Duchess as a match made in heaven. After pages of effusive praise, the article concluded with a provocative statement.
[…It was truly the day the true Lily of Traon was born. We look forward to seeing the Grand Duchess of Erzet’s future conquest of the capital’s high society.]
Ornella’s hands, clutching the magazine, trembled. She read the last part over and over, forcing a smile to her lips. But in the end, she couldn’t bear it and threw the magazine across the room.
The wedding scene kept replaying in her mind. Aileen Elorde, who had pretended to be so hopelessly unfashionable, had dressed up to the nines on her wedding day, deliberately humiliating her. The memory of that dreadful moment, when everyone’s attention had turned from her to *that thing*, was driving her mad.
“Calm yourself.”
Duke Parvellini, seated across from Ornella, gently soothed his daughter. He offered words of comfort in a feignedly affectionate voice to Ornella, who was panting and seething.
“Is something so trivial worth getting angry over? People are merely showing temporary interest in something new. Once the excitement cools, they will return to praising and adoring you.”
He gestured for a servant to pick up the fallen magazine. Then, lighting a cigar, he spoke languidly.
“What does it matter, becoming the Lily of Traon? Your happiness is what’s most important to this father.”
Ornella glared at the Duke with bloodshot eyes. At her gaze, Duke Parvellini clicked his tongue. His only daughter was typically a lovely girl. But, much like the late Duchess, once she lost her temper, she would fly into a rage without a second thought.
This was one of those times. Staring at the Duke without even blinking, Ornella parted her lips.
“…You’re the one who wanted it.”
Ornella’s body shuddered as if in a fit. Unable to contain her fury, she trembled and screamed.
“You wanted a daughter more praiseworthy than any son! You wanted me to be the noblest woman in the empire!”
At the piercing shriek, the Duke frowned, the cigar still in his mouth. A thick wrinkle formed between his brows as he set the cigar down in an ashtray.
“Was that my wish alone? You wanted it too, Ornella.”
Though his tone was cold and dismissive, Duke Parvellini looked at his impudent daughter with loving eyes.
“Calm down. Honestly, that temper of yours…”
His chiding was laced with tender affection. To an outsider, he would have looked like a doting father cherishing his only daughter.
But Ornella knew. The happiness Duke Parvellini spoke of existed only within the bounds he permitted.
If Ornella were to declare she would marry a street poet, Duke Parvellini would be the first to have the man sent to the guillotine.
The hypocrisy of her father, speaking of happiness, was nauseating. Ornella slowly steadied her ragged breaths. The shouting had cooled her boiling head, if only slightly.
Ornella slowly smoothed back her disheveled hair with her hand. Looking at the Duke, she spoke in a faintly trembling voice.
“…I told you countless times that I should marry the Grand Duke of Erzet. Not the Emperor.”
“Even as Duke Parvellini, I lack the authority to force you to marry a Grand Duke who refuses. Besides, he was a man who could have died at any moment back then. How could I send you to such a position?”
Ornella snatched the cigar the Duke had left in the ashtray and took a drag. The Duke watched his fuming daughter as if she were cute. Her face flushed with indignation, Ornella exhaled smoke and replied.
“But look at him now. My judgment was right, wasn't it?”
She had been certain that man would reach the highest seat of power. It was an intuition honed over years of reigning over high society.
Yet, she had been forced to make the wrong choice, and this was the price. The Grand Duchess of Erzet was drawing more attention than she, the future Empress of the nation.
Even if she became Empress now, her title would be all she had. It was clear that the love and attention of the empire’s people would go to the Grand Duchess of Erzet. Just like Leone, who had lost all glory to his twin brother.
Thinking of the hollow Emperor, Ornella clenched her jaw again. Duke Parvellini took out a new cigar and said.
“That remains to be seen. In the end, he is merely a Grand Duke. Not the Emperor.”
Ornella scoffed at his reply, which echoed her own past words.
“A Grand Duke who could become Emperor at any moment?”
“Do you think your father would let that happen?”
Bringing a cutter to the tip of his cigar, the Duke spoke as if the whole situation was trivial.
“His Majesty is not without ambition, Ornella. The Grand Duchess of Erzet is hosting a tea party, is she not? You just do as you always have.”
*Snip*. The sharp blade cut the cigar. The cleanly severed tip fell onto the table. Holding the guillotine-like cutter, Duke Parvellini smiled at his beloved only daughter.
“Leave the cleanup to your father.”
***
It was her first official public appearance as the Grand Duchess of Erzet. The staff of the grand ducal residence spared no effort in preparing Aileen.
They brought various accessories and dresses, asking about her preferences. For Aileen, whose only experience with being properly dressed up had been her wedding, these were truly perplexing questions.
In truth, she didn't know the first thing about any of it, so she simply entrusted them with full authority and let them adorn her as they pleased. Perhaps for that reason, the result was magnificent.
The dress was made by the same salon that had crafted her wedding gown; she heard that three salons had collaborated on it this time as well.
She had thought their words on her wedding day were mere pleasantries, but the salon owners had genuinely wanted her to wear their clothes.
The dress, decorated with delicate lace and ribbons, was so luxurious she was almost afraid to wear it. Startled by the magnificent sheen of the high-quality silk, Aileen moved with extreme caution to avoid damaging the expensive garment.
Clutching the hem of her dress, she descended the stairs as slowly as a snail. The man waiting in the hall, chatting with Sonio, widened his eyes and applauded.
“Wow, Lady Aileen! You look like a fairy today, too.”
Still unaccustomed to compliments, Aileen offered an awkward thanks.
“Thank you, Sir Diego.”
The man who had so casually uttered the embarrassing praise was Diego, assigned as Aileen’s escort for the day.
He was far too valuable a talent to be wasted on escort duty. But for today, Aileen pretended not to notice the excessive appointment.
It was her first public engagement as the Grand Duchess of Erzet. In such a tense and nerve-wracking situation, having Diego by her side would be an immense source of strength.
“Everyone will be so surprised to see how beautiful you are.”
Diego showered Aileen with effusive compliments for a while, bolstering her confidence. Sonio, seeing the worry on Aileen’s face, offered a lighthearted joke.
“When you return, please tell this old man your tales of valor.”
Thanks to them, Aileen was finally able to smile. Bidding Sonio farewell, she boarded the carriage and headed for the Imperial Palace with Diego.
Previously, she had used the passage reserved for the imperial family, but today was a formal visit, so she had to use the official entrance.
The moment Aileen stepped out of the carriage, escorted by Diego, a flood of gazes fell upon her as if they had been waiting. Diego clicked his tongue and muttered.
“Goodness, they’ve swarmed like bees.”
Even ‘swarm of bees’ felt like an understatement; there were far too many people. It felt like even more than at the palace banquet.
Her face pale with tension, Aileen followed Diego’s lead, her steps stiff. Diego adjusted the hem of Aileen’s dress and whispered.
“They’re all here to see you, My Lady.”
The nobles who hadn’t been invited to the wedding had gathered on the day of her official visit to the palace just to see her. Aileen couldn’t believe that so many people had gathered just to see her.
Fortunately, perhaps thanks to Diego, no one dared to approach her directly. She was walking surrounded by stares when she came face to face with the very people she had wished to avoid.
“Aileen!”
Ornella, her lustrous platinum blonde hair flowing, approached with quick steps. She called Aileen’s name familiarly with a bright smile, and upon reaching her, she suddenly pulled her into a hug.
“I’ve missed you. Have you been well?”
To others, it would have looked like a reunion of close friends. While Aileen was flustered by the unexpected display of intimacy, Ornella continued to speak amiably.
“This is my father.”
She smiled, lightly placing a hand on the arm of the middle-aged man beside her. The man, who had the same green eyes as Ornella but a shade darker, offered a faint smile and a greeting.
“It is an honor to meet you. I am Asef von Parvellini, Duke of Parvellini. I saw you from a distance at the wedding, but this is the first time I’ve had the chance to greet you properly.”
“I am grateful that Your Grace would greet me first.”
As Aileen managed an awkward reply, he stared at her with a smiling face. His observant gaze was subtle yet chilling.
A cold sensation traced its way down her spine. Aileen was unconsciously bracing her feet to keep from stepping back when Ornella’s eyes widened.
“Oh my, has Baron Elorde not yet arrived at the palace?”
Ornella leaned against her father with a coy smile.
“It’s such a joyous occasion, so the Baron will surely be here, won’t he?”
Aileen finally understood what Ornella wanted. She was flaunting something Aileen could never have. Aileen remained silent for a moment, about to slowly part her lips to reply.
Just then, Diego, who had been standing quietly behind her, gently tugged on the hem of her dress and looked somewhere. Following his gaze, she saw a man walking through the now-silent crowd.
It was Cesare, who had come to greet his wife upon her arrival at the palace.
But Cesare was not alone. Beside him, with a deathly pale face and breaking out in a cold sweat, was her father, Baron Elorde.