A Witch Lives In The Emperor’s Bedroom - Chapter 2

“Mother bought this for me when I was nine years old. And you think you can just take it from me?”

“I-I’m sorry. I stumbled upon it by chance, and it looked so beautiful… I just wanted to try it on once. I’m really sorry.”

Rosalie, unable to contain her anger, raised her hand.

Bella squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the blow to come.

“Enough.”

It was Martha who intervened.

Rosalie stopped, hand mid-air, glaring at Bella in frustration.

“Mother, how dare she act so presumptuously!”

“The Grand Duke will be here soon. What if he notices a red mark on your face?”

“…”

“Calm yourself and fix your appearance. There’s no point wasting time on the likes of her.”

“…Yes, Mother.”

Rosalie withdrew her hand but shot a sharp glare at Bella. Bella sighed in relief, but just then, Rosalie snatched a candlestick from the maid who had just entered the room. Bella flinched, and Rosalie flashed a cold smile.

“Don’t worry. I’m not about to stab you to death with it.”

Rosalie tapped her finger on the sharp edge where the candle was fixed, then jabbed the flat end of the candlestick into Bella’s stomach.

“Ugh!”

As Bella doubled over, clutching her stomach in pain, Rosalie smiled, seemingly satisfied at last. She pinned the brooch she had taken from Bella onto her own dress.

“Consider yourself lucky. If it weren’t for the Grand Duke, you’d be nursing more than a slap—I’d have given you a good kick too. You might’ve even cracked a few ribs.”

Rosalie tossed the candlestick back to the maid and gave Bella a hard shove on the shoulder as she passed. Bella staggered, barely managing to keep her balance.

“I’m here, Mother.”

Ethan entered the drawing room. Fresh from a monster hunt, his lavish hunting attire was stained here and there with dried blood.

As the eldest son of the White family, Ethan carried a self-assured ease granted by wealth, which meant he never felt intimidated, even in the presence of the most prestigious families. Generously speaking, he was confident; objectively, he behaved as if he were the center of the universe.

Though Ethan wasn’t unattractive, his arrogance was plainly etched on his face. Rosalie looked him over, her expression tinged with exasperation.

“Brother, didn’t I tell you not to be late?”

“I’m not late, am I? Isn’t the Grand Duke arriving soon?”

At Ethan’s casual tone, Rosalie gasped, covering her mouth with a hand. “For goodness’ sake, watch your words! What if you say something careless in front of the Grand Duke?”

“Yes, yes. I wouldn’t dream of spoiling my dear sister’s marriage,” he replied with a sly smile.

Martha, who had been arranging the lemon chiffon cake on the table, finally looked up to assess her son.

“Ethan, why are you still in your hunting clothes? Go and wash up at once.”

“Yes, I just stopped by before heading to wash. I was curious to see how grand this tea table would be,” he replied, popping a grape into his mouth as he approached, shrugging.

While the three conversed, Bella pressed herself against the wall, holding her breath, hoping to remain unnoticed.

“Pick the most elaborate, expensive outfit you have. Rumors are already swirling about this match with a baron’s family. We need to make an impression,” Martha advised.

“Yes, Mother, of course. Don’t worry. I’ll choose something so stunning even the Grand Duke will be impressed.”

Ethan spun in place with the grace of a dancer, grinning as he made his way toward the exit. But then he stopped, spotting Bella, and his eyes narrowed. Bella shrank, instinctively cowering like a mouse facing a snake.

“Well, you’re technically family, so you’ll have to attend too, right?” he sneered, letting his gaze roam from her head to her toes. She felt a chill crawl over her wherever his gaze lingered.

“At least you don’t smell this time. Better than the last time I saw you a month ago,” Ethan said, stepping closer.

Bella wanted to back away, but her back was already against the wall, trapping her.

“In clean clothes, you almost look like a regular person,” he sneered.

Ethan leaned in close to Bella’s ear and chuckled, a sly whisper escaping his lips. Bella flinched, quickly covering her ear and averting her gaze to avoid his eyes.

Martha paid no attention to what was happening, as though it was beneath her notice. Usually, Rosalie might have ignored it too, but upon witnessing Ethan’s teasing, she approached with purposeful steps.

“Enough already! For goodness’ sake, just go get changed and get ready to greet the Grand Duke.”

“Fine, fine. Stop rushing me.”

Ethan slowly backed away, casting Bella a final, regretful glance before he exited the drawing room.

As soon as he left, Rosalie leaned in close to Bella and hissed, “Just because you’ve cleaned up doesn’t mean you can try to seduce my brother.”

Bella shook her head quickly, looking startled. “No, that’s not it—”

“Disgusting. Who knows where you even came from,” Rosalie sneered before shuddering in distaste and returning to the tea table to help Martha with the final preparations.

The maids moved quickly to finish setting the table, while Bella stayed close to the wall, her presence barely noticeable.

“The Grand Duke’s carriage is in sight,” announced the butler as he entered the room.

“Oh my goodness!” Rosalie gasped, bouncing on her feet with girlish excitement, her cheeks already flushed a rosy pink.

“Rosalie, is that any way for a future duchess to behave?” Martha chided her, and Rosalie quickly composed her expression, though she couldn’t hide the glow in her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m just so thrilled.”

“Go and check how much longer Ethan will take to get ready,” Martha directed the butler, who gave a brief bow and hurried out.

“I swear, my brother is so leisurely about everything. If he does anything to disrupt this wedding, I’ll never forgive him.”

“Your brother has good judgment, so don’t worry. Just focus on presenting yourself as graceful and refined before the Grand Duke.”

“Yes, Mother, I will. I’m confident. Every time we went to the tea house together, he always praised me so warmly, calling me beautiful and elegant.” Rosalie clasped her hands together, her smile dreamy as she recalled those moments, looking utterly entranced.

Martha smiled at her beloved daughter and took her hand, but her gaze soon fell on Rosalie’s brooch, and she frowned.

“Must you wear that butterfly brooch? It looks rather worn.”

“Sometimes simpler accessories make a better impression, Mother.”

“Well, you look beautiful and elegant already, so perhaps a modest accessory isn’t a bad idea. Now, let’s prepare to greet His Grace—he’ll be crossing the courtyard shortly.”

“Oh! Did you dismiss the guards from the front door? We must show the proper courtesy for the Grand Duke.”

“Don’t worry, my dear. I’ve seen to everything. Just focus on making him feel welcome and at ease.”

Rosalie nodded, her eyes shining with affection for her mother. According to the Empire’s custom, welcoming distinguished guests with an open door and no guards was a sign of utmost hospitality, symbolizing a lack of suspicion and a warm embrace.

“Now, if you’ve calmed your nerves enough, let’s go greet His Grace,” Martha said.

“Yes, Mother,” Rosalie replied.

As Martha and Rosalie exited the drawing room with smiles, Bella quietly followed them. Ethan, accompanied by the butler, was just coming down the stairs.

“I can’t believe you,” Rosalie muttered.

“But I made it on time, didn’t I?” Ethan shot back with a grin.

Martha waved a hand, signaling for them to save their bickering for later, and led the family to the main entrance. Martha took the lead, followed by Ethan, Rosalie, and Bella standing neatly in line.

“If you ruin my marriage, you’ll regret it,” Rosalie hissed at Bella through clenched teeth.

Bella nodded quickly in response, swallowing her fear.

As the sound of footsteps approached, the butler opened the door.

“Welcome, Your Grace,” he announced.

Martha led the greeting with a respectful bow, followed by Ethan and Rosalie. Bella, without even glancing up at Duke Zenos, quickly curtsied, lowering herself with her head bowed.

In her haste, she held her skirt too high, accidentally revealing her feet.

The problem was that Bella was barefoot.

As she looked down in her bow, she noticed her own bare feet, and her mouth dropped open. She’d forgotten to put on shoes when she left the basement. Panicking, Bella glanced up—and locked eyes with Zenos.

For the first time, Bella saw the face of Zenos, the Grand Duke of the Latus Empire and Rosalie’s fiancé. Under his jet-black hair, his bright brown eyes were striking, as clear and sturdy as fine wood. Bella had often heard rumors of his handsome features—and Rosalie had certainly bragged about him enough—but she hadn’t imagined he would look this dazzling in person.

Before she could fall further under his spell, Zenos’s gaze shifted downward, landing on her bare feet. Embarrassed, Bella quickly dropped her skirt to cover them, and he turned his attention back to the others without a second glance.

“Thank you for inviting me, Lady White. I consider it a great honor,” Zenos said, extending his hand politely. Martha offered her hand, and as the Grand Duke kissed the back of it, she felt as though she’d become a queen. In a fleeting moment, she even imagined the noblewomen who had subtly looked down on her bowing before her.

“Rosalie.”

Zenos gave Rosalie a gentle smile, and she felt herself melting under the warmth of his gaze.

“Your Grace,” she replied, extending her hand as well. Zenos gave her a light kiss on her hand, and she blushed, unable to hide her look of enchantment. She tried to steady herself, recalling her mother’s advice to stay composed, but her heart raced too fast for that.

“Ethan. I believe the last time we met was on a hunting ground, some years ago.”

“Yes, Your Grace. You’ve grown even more formidable since then. I should take lessons from you.”

“With the issues in my newly appointed territories, I haven’t been able to train for days. It’s shameful,” Zenos replied modestly.

“Your Grace, your humility is extraordinary,” Ethan said with a smile, the exchange gliding smoothly between them, both effortless and well-rehearsed.

After the polite, practiced greetings were exchanged, Zenos’s gaze finally turned to Bella.

“Our dear youngest, Isabella,” Martha said, stepping in quickly. “She’s rather shy, which is why she’s hardly shown her face in society, so this is likely your first time meeting her. Isabella, go ahead and greet His Grace.”

Martha spoke in a warm, almost doting tone.

“Isabella White greets His Grace, the Grand Duke,” Bella managed in a trembling voice.

Zenos extended his hand to her. “It is an honor to meet you, Lady White.”

Bella hesitated, fidgeting awkwardly. Any other noblewoman would have handled this with grace, but Bella, who was rarely seen outside her basement room, felt overwhelmed in front of someone of such high rank. While others had made their social debuts and learned the poise and wit required for society, Bella had been denied even a hint of such training.

“Bella, what are you doing? His Grace is waiting,” Rosalie chimed in with a sweet, almost sisterly tone, using her nickname as if she were the picture of a kind, caring older sister. Rosalie had crafted a reputation for herself by “looking after” her quiet, reclusive younger sister, using Bella to showcase her own nurturing image. Now, in front of her fiancé, she was eager to play this role to perfection.

At last, Bella extended her hand, and Zenos took her slender fingers in his. While noble families often raised their daughters to be delicate, Zenos couldn’t help but notice how frail her hand felt in his grasp. Yet he maintained his composure and did not betray any surprise. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand before releasing it.

Bella felt a flush of heat spread across her hand, almost as though the spot where his lips had touched was burning.

Martha then gestured inside the house. “Shall I escort you to the drawing room now, Your Grace?”

“Of course.”

Rosalie was practically glowing with excitement, barely able to contain herself. Having her fiancé here felt as if she’d already brought him home after their marriage.

“What a splendid tea table,” Zenos remarked as he looked over the arrangement. At the center was a lemon-scented cake, flanked by golden scones, a homemade fig jam, clotted cream, and a delicate pink roll cake dotted with wild raspberries.

“It’s an honor to have you, Your Grace. Please, have a seat,” Martha said, motioning toward the head of the table.

Zenos took his seat without hesitation, with Martha and Ethan seated beside him. Rosalie sat next to Ethan, while Bella’s place was beside Martha. Rosalie’s eyes narrowed in irritation, clearly displeased that she couldn’t sit beside Zenos due to family hierarchy.

“Bella, why aren’t you sitting down?” Martha asked, noticing her standing awkwardly in front of her chair.

Bella chewed her dry lips nervously. “I apologize. Please excuse me for a moment.”

She bowed deeply to Zenos, then hurriedly left the drawing room, practically pressing her feet to the ground as if to avoid making a sound. Behind her, she felt Rosalie and Martha’s icy glares—and a peculiar look from Zenos.