Chapter 4 - The Ducal Residence
"Welcome home, Your Grace. Your room is ready."
"Good. Then, show her the way."
As Opal reached the top of the stairs, a man who appeared to be the butler addressed Hubert. There was not a trace of celebratory feeling for the newlyweds in his voice. Furthermore, the faces of the servants lined up to greet the master and his new wife were all uniformly cold, their eyes sizing Opal up. Opal felt anger rising at how rude they were being, but she managed to suppress it. It would not do to make her first impression an angry one. She made a mental note to call the head maid later and admonish her. Just then, the man who seemed to be the butler bowed to Opal and greeted her.
"Welcome, Your Grace. I am Romit, and I have the honor of serving as the butler of this residence. Should you require anything, please inform me or this... Beth. Beth is your personal lady's maid."
At Romit's words, the young woman standing at the very front of the line stepped forward and curtsied. However, Opal did not miss the rebellious expression that flashed across her face. Opal wanted to resent Hubert for whatever he had told them to make the servants so defiant. The man in question, Hubert, had already quickly entered the residence.
"Now then, I will show you to your room, Your Grace. You must be tired today, so please rest assured that dinner will be brought to your room."
"Is that so? I feel fine, though?"
"It is a thoughtful gesture from Lady Northem."
"...I see."
It seemed even the butler still thought of Lady Northem as the lady of the house. Moreover, if having one's meal in one's room, without any celebration on one's wedding night, was a "thoughtful gesture," then the lady must be mad. But not wanting to cause a scene in the house she had just married into, Opal silently followed Romit.
A residence, regardless of its size, tended to have a similar layout. So, as Opal ascended the grand central staircase, she immediately spotted what was likely to be her room, the master bedroom. However, Romit walked right past the door. Thinking she must have been mistaken, Opal followed, only to find that they had reached the very end of the corridor. Romit opened a door there. Although she found it suspicious, she was ushered inside, and Opal realized that the room was, by all appearances, a guest room.
"Romit, surely this is not my room?"
"It is, Your Grace."
"But this is a guest room. Perhaps the master bedroom is not yet finished being redecorated?"
"No. This room is indeed the furthest from the stairs, but it is well appointed with a washroom and a closet, and above all, the view from the window is magnificent. Furthermore, Lady Northem chose it for Your Grace so that you would not be troubled by any bothersome noises."
"...I appreciate the 'thoughtful gesture' very much, but I am the Duchess, am I not? I should be using the master bedroom. Move my things at once."
"I am afraid I cannot do that."
"Why not?"
"The master bedroom... the room adjoining His Grace's, is currently occupied by Lady Stella."
"What...?"
She knew she was taking on a haughty tone, but Opal chided herself that she could not let them look down on her, and so she gave Romit her command. She had never imagined that not only would she be denied the master bedroom, but that she would be shoved into a room at the far end of the house like this. On top of that, she was now informed of a startling fact, and Opal was left speechless. She could feel the blood draining from her face. Still, determined not to collapse here, she pinched her left hand with her right and opened her mouth to say something.
"Is this Miss Stella His Grace's mistress?"
She had not meant to say it, but the words slipped out. In this situation, it was a conclusion one could not be blamed for reaching. But this time, it was Romit's face from which the blood drained upon hearing Opal's words.
"Certainly not... How could you... I will take my leave now."
With an expression of utter disbelief, Romit cast one last look of contempt at Opal before exiting the room. Left behind, Opal glanced at the lady's maid, Beth, who was preparing her change of clothes as if nothing had happened. The maid said nothing, but it was clear she was angered by the conversation she had just heard.
It seemed there was an angel in this residence. And now a snake had slithered in, one who might defile the angel, so everyone was directing their enmity toward the snake. After giving up on marriage in her second season, Opal had not cared about her reputation. But now, that very reputation was coming back to haunt her.
(But I saved this family, did I not? So why do I have to be treated like a fool even by servants I have just met?)
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the fury she had been suppressing reignited. The snake in this house was not her. She had not yet met her, but the one manipulating everyone had to be the person running this house, Lady Northem. She was probably worried that her own position was being threatened.
"How absurd."
Opal muttered as she changed from her wedding dress into a simple gown, but Beth, who must have heard, said nothing. She decided then and there that she would ask for a divorce when she turned twenty. At this rate, there was no way she would ever have children. Just as she made this resolve, she heard the sound of forceful footsteps approaching. In this residence, the only person permitted to make such a noise was Hubert. The door opened without a knock, and standing on the other side was, indeed, Hubert.
"Your Grace..."
She had just finished changing, but what if she had been in the middle of it? Opal was about to tell him he should knock, but she choked on her words when she saw the demonic look on Hubert's face as he approached.
"...!"
"What a foul woman you are! To call Stella... to call Stella a mistress!"
He gripped her right arm so tightly that she nearly screamed in pain, but Opal gritted her teeth and endured it. Hubert spat out his anger and then abruptly let go of her arm, as if touching her was a disgusting act.
"I will not allow you to meet Stella. Understood? If you wish to leave this room, you will go through Beth. I cannot have an accidental meeting. Of course, I will not stop you from going out. However, even if you become pregnant, I will not acknowledge the child. Though we are husband and wife, I will petition the Royal Legal Officer, so be prepared for that."
Having said his piece, as if satisfied, Hubert shot Opal one last glare and left. Opal let her throbbing arm hang limp at her side and watched his retreating figure. And all the while, Beth said nothing, simply standing silently in the corner of the room.