Chapter 18 - Documents
By the time she returned to the ducal mansion, it was nearly time for dinner, and the butler, Romit, and the housekeeper greeted her with looks of annoyance. Opal paid them no mind, announcing that she would be dining with Hubert and the others. She ordered the astonished Romit to have Beth sent to the guest room to help her change. As an afterthought, she added that she was thirsty and to bring her some tea. Romit and the housekeeper, suppressing their anger, set about their tasks.
I suppose it’s an improvement that they’re still trying to hide their anger, she thought.
A short while after she entered the guest room, Beth arrived, her face a mask of displeasure. She set the tray down so roughly that the teacups clattered with a shrill sound.
"Beth, I don’t know what has you so irritated, but if you so much as chip that tea set, will you be able to compensate for it?"
"His Grace would never scold us servants for a simple mistake."
"Not for a simple mistake, no. But I doubt the master of this house would be pleased if something were broken due to deliberate carelessness."
Beth said nothing in response to Opal’s words, but her defiant gaze spoke volumes. Not caring in the slightest, Opal took a sip of the tea and grimaced. Instantly, a triumphant look appeared on Beth’s face.
"Are you incapable of brewing a decent cup of tea? This is terribly bitter. And lukewarm. If this continues, you had best start looking for a new position. When you do, I will be sure to write it clearly in your letter of reference. She is poor at making tea."
"How dare you act so high and mighty..."
Having decided to stop holding back, Opal spoke to Beth with an imperious tone. She had never taken such an attitude with a servant before, but she now felt that the staff of the ducal mansion deserved neither her consideration nor her concern. Beth’s face turned bright red as she started to retort, but Opal silenced her with a raised hand.
"In fact, I am in a position of authority. This has nothing to do with rank. I am the mistress of this house, and you are an employee. If you cannot accept that, then you are free to leave. In that case, whether we meet on a street corner or in some other estate, we will be strangers. You will no longer have to suffer me speaking down to you. Now, do as you please. I will be wearing the crimson dress for dinner tonight. Will you prepare it, or not?"
Beth, pale and trembling, heard Opal's ultimatum. She looked chagrined as she entered the dressing room and silently began to make preparations.
"Oh, that’s right. If you plan on tattling to Romit and the others about me later, there is something I would like you to pass along. During tea after dinner, I will have an important discussion with His Grace and Lady Northem. It concerns all of you as well, so tell them that not only Romit, but anyone who is interested, is welcome to come to the drawing room."
When Opal spoke with a hint of a smile, Beth stopped combing Opal’s hair, her hand having been pulling so hard it hurt. She seemed suspicious, hearing that any servant was permitted to be present for a conversation between their masters. However, when her eyes met Opal’s in the mirror, she pressed her lips together firmly and nodded.
"...Very well, my lady."
After a brief pause, Beth agreed in a small voice. It seemed she had finally sensed something was different about Opal’s newly assertive attitude. But Opal had already made up her mind. She had to let Hubert, Lady Northem, and all the servants know that she had no intention of meekly accepting this situation. She was prepared to be lenient with those who changed their ways. Steeling herself against the turmoil she knew was coming, Opal stood and made her way to the dining room.
When she entered the room, Hubert, who was already seated, did stand, but he did not escort her to her seat. Lady Northem remained seated, but Opal paid it no mind. She glanced at Hubert’s fashionable jacket and thought idly that he must have had his clothes retailored. As soon as Opal was seated, Hubert began his attack.
"Who do you think you are? I heard you threatened to dismiss Beth earlier."
"My, word travels fast, doesn’t it? However, that information is incorrect."
"In what way?"
"It was not a threat. I was quite serious. I have thought for some time now that the servants here allow their personal feelings to interfere with their duties. I have warned Beth several times to no effect, so I was merely giving her a final notice."
"What... You have no right to..."
"I do. I am the mistress of this house. The management of the servants is my responsibility, not something Your Grace needs to concern himself with."
"Wh..."
Perhaps sensing a stronger will than ever before in Opal’s resolute tone, Hubert was lost for words. Lady Northem, who had been watching the exchange with a smug smile, now sat with her mouth agape. The serving maid and footman turned pale. The butler, Romit, who was pouring wine, pulled the bottle back from the glass, as if to steady his trembling hand. Noticing the atmosphere, Hubert cleared his throat.
"This is not a conversation to be had in front of everyone."
"You are the one who started it, my lord. Besides, since you seem to have already heard, perhaps it is unnecessary to tell you again, but there is an important matter to discuss in the drawing room after this meal. As I have already told Beth, it also concerns the servants of this house, so I have asked any who are interested to gather. Please, try not to be offended."
"What on earth are you..."
"You will understand later. For now, we should enjoy our meal."
Perhaps because he had been sheltered by his title of duke and had never been spoken to so forcefully by another person, Hubert said nothing more and continued with his meal. However, his curiosity was clearly piqued, as he kept glancing furtively at Opal. Lady Northem, too, seemed to have lost her appetite, as the food on her plate was largely untouched. Unlike the other two, Opal ate her meal with a steady hand.
"Shall we proceed to the drawing room for tea?"
"Y, yes..."
When the meal was over, Opal stood and spoke. Lady Northem nodded anxiously. Then Hubert also rose.
"I think I shall join you for tea today as well."
"...Is that so."
It seemed Hubert was eager to hear what Opal had to say, forgoing his usual after dinner drink. However, Opal needed to return to her room to retrieve something important for the discussion.
"Lady Northem, I must return to my room for a moment to get something. Would you mind seeing to the tea?"
"Y, yes. I understand."
Lady Northem answered timidly, while Hubert narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Feeling his gaze on her back, Opal left the room. She returned to her guest room, took several documents from her now lighter bag, and then entered the drawing room.
"My apologies for the wait."
Romit, the housekeeper, Beth, and several other maids and footmen were already standing and waiting in the drawing room. Hubert and Lady Northem were seated on the sofa, and it appeared neither had touched their tea. Opal sat in front of the other prepared cup, across from Hubert, and got straight to the point.
"As of yesterday, all the ducal family’s assets, including this mansion, the ducal fief, and the estate within the fief, have become my property. And so, I will give you all five days to decide whether you will leave this place or remain."
Opal directed her first words to Hubert and Lady Northem, and the next to the servants. Instantly, Hubert’s face contorted with rage.
"What nonsense is this! It is true that this house, the ducal house, has recovered thanks to your dowry. But that gives you no rights whatsoever! Do not upset everyone with your foolish talk!"
"Recovered? That is incorrect. The ducal house has only temporarily stayed afloat thanks to my dowry. It seems you have been getting by for some time by borrowing money against your fief, trusting Omar’s promises that ‘next year will be better.’ That moneylender must be a very discreet person, mustn’t he? But at this rate, you will soon have to take on more debt."
Shamed in front of his servants, Hubert’s face flushed with humiliation. In contrast, Opal remained perfectly calm. Seeing her cool expression seemed to fuel Hubert’s anger even further. He commanded in a harsher voice than ever before.
"Get out! I will divorce you! Get out of here this instant!"
"My lord, if we are to be divorced, then you are the one who must leave. Yesterday afternoon, you signed a document transferring all your land and property to me."