Die Melusine - Chapter 62

Click, clack.

The sound of heels echoed sharply down the corridor, as if deliberately striking the floor harder in a forced rhythm—trying to conceal irritation with control.

The day after the emperor’s birthday banquet, Kieron had arrived late—yet, as always, with perfect composure and dignity.

Until his uncle appeared, Edvard had been grumbling nonstop, needling everyone in sight. Once Kieron finally arrived, the emperor kept jabbing at him with sarcastic remarks, complaining that he’d been so caught up with a woman that he’d forgotten his own nephew’s special day. But the shame of that situation fell not on Kieron—but on Estelle, his fiancée.

Kieron had acted as if none of it mattered, but Estelle had strained to pretend not to notice the whispers and side-glances from the nobles in attendance. And despite her efforts, the man hadn’t looked at her even once during the entire event. The memory twisted inside her now.

She had come to the Grand Duke’s quarters in person today. If he rejected her again, she wasn’t sure what else she could do. But she wasn’t going to just sit back and accept it.

“My lady, please, wouldn’t it be better to return for now? I’ll try to secure permission for—”

“It’s because you failed to do that in the first place that I’ve come myself, isn’t it?”

The maid standing helplessly beside her flinched at the sharp retort.

“I’m sorry, my lady…”

Estelle wasn’t usually one to display her temper so plainly, even with her famously sensitive nature.

But today, something had pushed her past her limit—and it was likely the thing she’d confirmed through the Grand Duke’s staff earlier that morning. The rumor that since his return, the woman had not left Kieron’s chamber. Not once.

The Imperial Palace was where every rumor in the empire began.
Everyone pretended not to care—but in truth, they listened with bated breath for the next scandal.

And now, with the emperor’s birthday drawing nobles from all across the empire, it was the perfect storm. For a noble lady like Estelle—who cared deeply about appearances—this was, quite literally, a nightmare.

“I suppose the Grand Duke… is just a man, after all?”

She had been jabbed just the night before at the ball by one of the other ladies—a former childhood friend who’d grown jealous over the years. A marquess’ daughter, recently married to a notorious philanderer nearly as infamous as the emperor himself. Her emotional toll was no secret.

It was clear she’d spoken with full intention to provoke.

“Didn’t you know? He may be my fiancé, but I still find myself reminded—again and again—of what kind of man he is.”

Estelle had deliberately looked distant, her cheeks flushing as if recalling something inappropriate.

“Like during the harvest festival at the Grand Duchy… every day… Oh, but I shouldn’t say more.”

At that, the other woman flushed as well—just as Estelle intended.

“And I hear the Count didn’t attend the banquet this year? People say he made a bet with His Majesty over some woman… and lost. Is that true?”

Smile when you strike. Speak poison sweetly. Eye for an eye, venom for venom—that’s how high society survived.

The other woman backed off in flustered silence, which was a relief. But not even a sharp-tongued victory could erase the rumors that were already swirling.

The imperial court was abuzz with talk of the mysterious woman brought back from the Grand Duke’s estate.

Among nobles, both marriages and affairs were strictly “within the circle.” A mistress for a noble was typically someone with status and lineage. Even for casual flings, there were unwritten rules.

So the sudden appearance of a pink-haired foreigner—clearly not of their world—was like blood in the water for imperial gossip. Especially since the famously unblemished Grand Duke, with no prior scandals or lovers, was now at the center of it.

It was a perfect excuse to tear down Lady Estelle of House Hesnal’s pride—and people were taking it eagerly.

Hoo…

Just then, as Estelle stood staring hard at the doorknob, a servant finally appeared with an awkward expression on his face.

It must have been unbearable, she thought, for someone soon to become the Grand Duchess to be kept waiting outside like this.

“My lady, I’m truly sorry. If you’d just return to your quarters for a moment, I’ll quickly bring word from His Grace—”

“Where is His Grace?”

“Ah, well, that is…”

“It’s fine. I’ll wait in the reception room.”

“Pardon? But surely that’s—”

Her eyes, cool and commanding, stopped the servant mid-sentence.

“As the future mistress of the Grand Duke’s estate… is there something here I shouldn’t be allowed to see?”

With a benevolent smile now curled upon her lips, Estelle moved with composure the servant could no longer challenge.

The reception room was silent—as though it had never been used at all.

Somehow, that only worsened Estelle’s mood.

As she sipped tea brought by the maid and sat in solitude, she could hear faint voices from the inner bedchamber—soft, private murmurs, unmistakably the Grand Duke’s deep tone and a lighter, more delicate one.

Now and then, the girl’s light giggles floated through the air.

I should’ve pushed that creature into the emperor’s bedchamber instead, Estelle thought bitterly. I shouldn’t have just left her in a place like this.

She endured the wait, even as thoughts crossed her mind that startled even herself.

“Lady Estelle of House Hesnal.”

At last, the man appeared—his presence entirely composed, as though nothing had happened in the bedroom moments before.

Kieron approached, fastening the gold buttons at his wrist, wearing a deep green velvet justaucorps over a layered waistcoat. Clean, composed, immaculate.

He nodded curtly, motioning for Estelle to sit.

There was nothing outwardly different from usual—but the very sameness of it hurt more.
That he treated her as coldly as everyone else—that there was no exception made for her—cut deeper than scorn would have.

“Your Grace seems particularly busy these days.”

It was a veiled reproach—half jest, half sting—for arriving late to the emperor’s celebration because of a woman.

Kieron’s dark brows narrowed slightly.

“I’d think the marquis would know the reason better than anyone.”

She bristled. Though the comment was calm, it was clear he was invoking her father. Estelle didn’t know the details, but she was aware there were dealings between her father and the Grand Duke. The implication made it difficult for her to respond.

Kieron pressed a finger to his temple, clearly fatigued. And somehow, Estelle couldn’t help but wonder if she had added to that weariness. That thought made her, uncharacteristically, draw her shoulders inward.

Just then, a bright voice rang through the space like sunlight splashing on glass.

“Kieron! Look at this! Oh… Es…telle?”

Melusine had come running out from the bedchamber, clearly expecting to see only Kieron.
She slowed when her eyes met Estelle’s.

She was dressed in a pale chemise-slip with frilly ruffles at the bust. Her skin, flushed and glowing, bore clear marks of a lover’s affection—scattered and intimate.

Seeing her, Estelle immediately regretted coming here in person. But it was already too late.

“Hello!”

Melusine greeted her brightly. Truthfully, something churned in her stomach the moment she saw Estelle’s face, though she didn’t quite understand why.

Estelle, as always, looked regal and stunning—her lavender gown gave the impression of a solitary, elegant flower in bloom.

“Why.”

Kieron reached out, grabbed Melusine’s wrist, and pulled her toward him. The motion was abrupt, but his gaze upon her was soft and weighty—so full of unspoken warmth that Estelle clenched her fists beneath her skirts.

“I told you to wait quietly.”

Tsk.

At the sound of Kieron clicking his tongue, Melusine naturally reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. The Grand Duke didn’t scold her further, simply allowing her to do as she pleased. Once his silence granted her permission, the woman dropped her act of meekness and completed the sentence she’d intended to say from the beginning.

“Sorry… I just really wanted to show you this right away.”

She held out her palm in front of his face.

From Estelle’s position across the room, it looked like nothing more than a few small, pale beads—barely worth noticing. Clearly, she thought, Melusine had disobeyed the Grand Duke’s instruction to stay put and used any excuse to come running.

Lady Estelle of House Hesnal could barely hold back a sigh at the lack of tact. Melusine clearly knew nothing of social nuance or conversational strategy. Sure, it might be convenient to deal with someone so guileless at first—but men always tired of women who were too easy. The trick was to remain just out of reach, to stir their instincts to conquer. But that creature—no, that animal—couldn’t possibly understand something so basic.

“This one’s got a hint of gold in it. Just like you, Kieron.”

Melusine was aware of Estelle’s eyes on her, but she didn’t stop.

She had found the bead among the others on the bed and noticed its color was a little different—more golden, like the Grand Duke’s eyes. It was slightly larger than usual too, smooth and almost velvety to the touch.

“Is that so.”

His tone was as flat and emotionless as when he spoke to Estelle. But the soft lilt at the end of his words, and the way his thumb gently brushed Melusine’s cheek—that was new. And it was intimate.

Estelle’s heart dropped.

They looked closer than they had at the Harvest Festival. And something about Kieron’s demeanor felt… changed. Less indifferent. That realization sent her mind spinning.

Lowering her eyes momentarily, she then lifted them again and addressed him quietly.

“Your Grace, as Father said… shouldn’t we begin preparing?”

She hadn’t meant to bring it up—not yet. Originally, she just wanted to ask how he was doing, see his face, maybe spend a quiet moment together. But now that she had seen it with her own eyes—how impossible that was—she couldn’t just walk away with nothing.

“What preparations?”

His indifferent response barely masked the sharp edge beneath.

Estelle opened her mouth to continue—about the marriage, the alliance, all the expectations—but before she could speak further, Melusine turned to her with a curious tilt of the head.

“Oh, right—Estelle, that day… where were you?”

At her question, Estelle’s throat closed up.

“That day?”

Kieron repeated it, a brow arching slightly in curiosity as he looked from one woman to the other.