Chapter 73

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: The Tea Party Invitation
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For a moment, Cesare stared silently at the Duke and Ornella. His height made it seem as though he were naturally looking down on them.

The capital’s nobility had all flocked to the Imperial Palace, eager for a glimpse of the Grand Duchess of Erzet. With so many eyes on them, Cesare’s silent, unwavering gaze became too much for Duke Parvellini to bear, and he was the first to break the silence.

“Your Excellency, Grand Duke Erzet.”

The Parvellinis were renowned as one of the Traon Empire’s most distinguished political families. A seasoned politician, the Duke masterfully concealed his true feelings, addressing Cesare with a relaxed smile.

“Congratulations. The seventh day has finally arrived.”

His plan must have been to exchange pleasantries and then make a graceful exit. Now that Cesare had intervened, he knew nothing good would come from prolonging the encounter.

But Cesare had no intention of letting the Duke off so easily. He pulled Baron Elorde, who was trembling a step behind them, to the front.

Aileen, who had been struggling to maintain her composure, flinched in surprise. The one small mercy was that she wasn't the only one taken aback. For a fleeting moment, the eyes of Duke Parvellini and Ornella wavered.

For a mere baron to be inserted into a conversation between a duke, his daughter, and a grand duke was practically unheard of.

“Please, exchange greetings.”

Cesare said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smirk. Duke Parvellini mirrored his smile, then readily extended a hand to Baron Elorde, offering a handshake.

Ordinarily, the Duke was less likely to meet the Baron than he was his own stable hand. Yet here they were, standing face to face, shaking hands as if they were equals. For a man of blue blood who had lived a life of prestige, it was a deeply unpleasant moment for Duke Parvellini.

However, the man was the Grand Duchess of Erzet’s father, and Cesare himself had prompted the introduction. Refusing to shake his hand now would be absurd, so he was forced to go through with it.

Aileen watched them with anxious eyes. The Duke’s gaze was frigid as he shook her father’s hand. Her father, who looked to be on the verge of fainting, somehow managed to see it through.

Ornella looked momentarily indignant and opened her mouth to speak, but the Duke placed a hand on her forearm, silencing her. He then turned to Cesare with a faint smile.

“I didn’t realize the Grand Duke doted on his wife so much.”

To the barbed comment, Cesare replied nonchalantly.

“They say a man driven mad by a woman would even sell his country, do they not?”

The onlookers gasped softly. It was a shocking statement, one that should never have passed the lips of a royal. Yet, its raw, emotional intensity also made it sound incredibly romantic.

Among the gentlemen in suits, Cesare stood alone in his military uniform. At this unabashed declaration of love from a man so strikingly different from the capital’s nobility, the watching ladies and their daughters blushed and let out soft sighs.

Absorbed as they were in gossip and pulp novels, they seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the scene playing out before them as if it were torn from a book. Duke Parvellini, suddenly cast in the role of the villain, felt his expression harden.

Cesare looked down at the Duke and continued speaking cheerfully.

“The talk of my madness has been all over the capital lately. It seems you are behind on the rumors, Duke.”

“…Your Excellency, why would you say such a thing?”

“It is the truth. You need not concern yourself.”

With Cesare admitting to his own madness, there was nothing left to say. As the speechless Duke Parvellini opened and closed his mouth, Cesare leaned in slightly.

The Duke flinched, recoiling at the sudden proximity. Though it was a reflex, he felt a sting of humiliation at his own retreat, and the skin beneath his wrinkled eyes trembled.

Cesare watched the Duke with a deadpan expression. Aileen held her breath, feeling as if she herself were being reprimanded.

His vividly red eyes were instinctively menacing to anyone who met their gaze. Most people knew that his stare wasn't that of a sheltered scholar and couldn't hold it for long.

Duke Parvellini held out well, but he couldn't hide the faint tremor in his fingertips. After watching the Duke for a long moment, Cesare slowly began to speak.

“Thank you for your congratulations, Duke.”

He ended the short conversation with a smirk, as if mocking the Duke’s tension.

“I trust you will continue to bless our future as a married couple.”

The words were a clear warning. Before Duke Parvellini could manage a reply, his lips twitching, Cesare turned and walked away.

Led away by Cesare, Aileen glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes met the fearsome glares of the Duke and Ornella. She also saw Diego following behind, looking after her flustered father, who seemed at a complete loss.

It was the moment she looked back at Ornella after checking on her father.

“Aileen!”

Ornella called her name in a clear voice. As if her earlier glare had been a lie, she smiled brightly and spoke in the playful tone one might use with a dear friend.

“I’ll be waiting for that tea party invitation, yes?”

Even someone as oblivious as Aileen could understand the intent. There was only one reason to mention the tea party in front of everyone: to ensure Aileen couldn't back out. It was a ploy to drag her into the world of high society, a battlefield where Ornella held every advantage.

But there was something Ornella didn't know. Aileen had already added her name to the guest list for the tea party.

Cesare paused, giving her a moment. Aileen took a subtle breath and then, mirroring Ornella, beamed.

“Of course. I’ve already prepared the invitation.”

And just as Ornella had, she used only her first name, forgoing any title.

“You must come, Ornella.”

Ornella’s eyes widened slightly, as if she hadn't expected Aileen to dare use her name so familiarly. But just as quickly, her expression melted into a smile as sweet as sherbet. With that saccharine smile, she replied to Aileen.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Aileen quickly turned away, squeezing Cesare’s hand tightly. That retort had been her final, desperate gambit; she lacked the confidence for another exchange with Ornella.

Cesare let out a low chuckle. He began to walk again, leading her away as he whispered.

“Shall we go somewhere more private?”

Her heart was still pounding from the confrontation with Ornella. Pressing her free hand to her chest, Aileen nodded quickly.

“Yes…!”

Their journey to a more secluded spot was not an easy one. People approached them at every turn, and since there were some they couldn't simply ignore, they had to stop intermittently to exchange greetings and brief pleasantries.

Still, she was relieved when they ran into Count Domenico. He spotted Aileen from a distance and practically ran over to them in his haste.

He was so delighted to see her that—and she knew it was terribly rude—Aileen couldn't help but think he resembled a large, enthusiastic dog.

Meeting someone so genuinely friendly put her at ease, and Aileen found she could face the others with a calmer heart.

When they finally reached a quiet corner of the garden, Cesare positioned Aileen beneath a large, flowering tree.

“Wait here for a moment.”

He then nodded to Diego, who promptly brought her father to Aileen’s side before following Cesare.

Cesare stopped at a distance where he could still see Aileen and her father, but was too far to be overheard, and began speaking with Diego.

Aileen turned to her father awkwardly. It was the first time she had seen him since the wedding a week ago. Though it hadn't been long, for some reason it felt as if months had passed.

“Father, have you been well…”

Before Aileen could finish her sentence, her father whispered in a low, fast voice.

“You have to save me, Aileen.”

Aileen blinked at his sudden plea. He stared at her, eyes wide, as he repeatedly dabbed at his cold sweat with a handkerchief.

“Don’t tell me you’re the one who stuck me on a ranch?”

“A ranch?”

“Yes! I’m out there milking cows!”

“Milking… cows?”

She couldn't make any sense of his words. Her father’s life revolved around alcohol and gambling; he was a man who had lived as far from manual labor as one could get. And yet he was milking cows on a ranch?

She needed more of an explanation to understand, but just as he was spouting this nonsense, her father suddenly flinched and fell silent.

Diego was staring right at them. He had taken off his uniform jacket and slung it over his shoulder, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos on his forearms. When his eyes met Aileen’s, Diego offered a silent, knowing grin.