A black-haired woman stood before the office door, a smug expression playing across her lips.
“I’m here to see the Duke.”
At those words, Randon, the butler of House Brant, sighed inwardly.
*Is she starting this again?*
The woman before him was Cornelia Odile Brant. Born to a powerful family, she was now the mistress of this estate—a woman whose fragile beauty masked a nature so sharp that not a single soul in the Duke’s palace harbored any affection for her.
Contrary to her noble features, Cornelia possessed a temperament that was anything but refined. She was notorious for her cruelty, frequently abusing the maids and even the noblewomen who visited as guests. Her arrogance knew no bounds, and she trailed after her husband with an obsessive tenacity.
As if that weren't enough, she indulged in a life of extreme luxury, decorating herself with lavish jewels as if the Duke's financial stability were of no concern to her.
'I'm already nervous about today...'
Randon, who had been warily observing the Duchess, straightened his posture. Suddenly, his eyes widened in genuine surprise.
*Why is she dressed so simply?*
Usually, the Duchess favored incredibly flamboyant attire. Even when staying within the palace, she wore voluminous, multi-layered dresses adorned with an excessive amount of jewels and flowers. It had reached the point where many in high society mocked her behind her back, calling her "a crow in peacock's feathers."
But today, the Duchess wore only a plain silk dress with almost no decoration. The only piece of jewelry she carried was her wedding ring. For a woman like her, the simplicity was jarring.
*What has changed?* Randon wondered, bewildered by her sudden transformation.
“Butler, didn’t you hear me? Have you gone deaf?”
The biting sarcasm snapped Randon back to reality. He offered a practiced, polite smile.
*Of course. This wicked woman hasn't changed at all.*
Her reason for coming here was undoubtedly the same as always: she had come to pester the Duke.
“My apologies, Your Grace, but His Excellency is expecting a guest shortly.”
“A guest? Who?”
“That would be—”
Before Randon could finish, a clear, melodic voice called out the Duchess's name.
“Oh, Cornelia!”
Cornelia turned as she recognized the person approaching. A cold smile touched her lips.
“It’s you, Madeleine.”
Madeleine Arguin was the only daughter of the Marquis of Arguin and Cornelia’s cousin.
“So, you’re Eric’s guest?”
Madeleine’s mother, the Marchioness of Arguin, was the sister of the Empress and a close friend of the dowager Duchess Brant. The dowager had always been vocal about her fondness for Madeleine, often declaring in social circles that she wished Madeleine had been her daughter-in-law instead of Cornelia.
Even now, the dowager sought out Madeleine’s company far more than that of her actual daughter-in-law.
“Yes, the Dowager Duchess summoned me to the annex, and I thought I'd stop by—”
“You mean you were trying to see Eric, as usual,” Cornelia interrupted, her voice sharp.
Madeleine flinched, but quickly recovered with an innocent, practiced laugh.
“Cora, are you upset that Eric asked to see me?”
“Upset? Why would I be? We aren’t exactly close enough for me to care.”
“We’re cousins! How can you say such a thing?”
Madeleine stepped toward Cornelia, attempting to pull her into a familiar embrace. But the moment she reached out—
“Don't.”
Cornelia swatted her hand away with a cold glare. “Do not touch me so carelessly.”
Madeleine froze, a look of stunned disbelief crossing her face before her eyes filled with tears.
"Why are you being so cruel? Have I done something wrong?"
“Let go of me.”
Cornelia tried to pull her hand away, but Madeleine gripped her tighter. Just as Cornelia’s brow furrowed in irritation, a low, commanding voice cut through the tension.
“What is all this noise in front of my office?”
A fierce aura surrounded the man as he emerged, moving with the grace of a predator. Though his noble features gave him a refined air, his presence was as overwhelming as a cornered beast. He kept his eyes fixed on the two women as he addressed the butler.
“Randon, I believe I gave orders not to be disturbed.”
Cornelia smiled bitterly. Though he was speaking to the butler, his gaze was pointed directly at her. His eyes seemed to ask, *What trouble have you caused today?*
“Do you find my words amusing?”
As their eyes met, Cornelia felt her legs threaten to give way, but she forced herself to stand firm.
“Cornelia!”
The man took an urgent step toward her, but someone caught his arm and stopped him.
"Eric, don't be angry! Cora didn't mean anything by it. I just surprised her when I tried to hug her..."
Seeing Madeleine’s tears, Eric’s expression softened instantly. The fierce beast was replaced by the elegant, friendly man the world knew.
"It's alright. Madeleine, please wait for me in the drawing room."
At that moment, Cornelia stumbled, her voice weak but clear.
“I’m sorry. I only fell because I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
"Unwell? Since when?"
Cornelia stared directly into Eric’s eyes and dropped the bombshell.
“I’m pregnant.”
The mention of pregnancy made Madeleine freeze. Her face drained of all color, as if she had just heard a death sentence.
"Pregnant?"
Eric turned to Madeleine, his voice firm. “Madeleine, I think it’s best if you return home for today.”
“But Eric, we had important matters to discuss!”
“If it is truly important, I will visit the Marquis’s estate soon to finalize it.”
Cornelia interrupted with a bored sigh, crossing her arms. “It seemed like something vital. Why don't you go with her? I'm sure you'd rather be there anyway.”
Eric’s brow furrowed at her provocative tone. “No. Our conversation takes priority.”
"Since when have you ever prioritized me? Go ahead, talk to her. It’s what you’ve always done."
Without waiting for a response, Cornelia turned and retreated into her own chambers. Eric’s face darkened with suppressed rage.
Madeleine tried to speak again. “Eric, Cora said it’s fine, so—”
Though Eric was usually the pinnacle of courtesy, his voice now carried a sharp edge of exhaustion.
“Anna, escort the guest out immediately.”
It was a direct order of expulsion, addressed to Madeleine’s maid. Madeleine’s eyes narrowed, her lips trembling.
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
Madeleine turned on her heel and fled down the stairs in tears. Even with the guest gone, Randon remained tense. The Duke was generally a patient man, but he was also a perfectionist who hated losing control of a situation.
“I will handle Lady Arguin's departure,” Randon said, bowing low. “I’ll ensure the maids keep this quiet so it doesn't reach the Dowager's ears prematurely.”
“See that you do,” Eric replied, his voice harsh.
He went straight to Cornelia’s room and found her lying on the chaise longue with a relaxed expression. His face contorted as he sat across from her.
“Did you have to announce that in front of Miss Arguin?”
Cornelia opened her lips to speak, then closed them. *Why? Are you uncomfortable at the thought of losing the woman you love because of me?*
“Madeleine was here for an important discussion today,” Eric continued, his irritation growing. “Cornelia, if this is just another one of your lies to get my attention...”
It was true that Cornelia had often feigned illness or injury in the past, knowing it was the only way to get him to visit her. But this was different.
“Do you really think I would lie about this? You of all people should know the consequences of that night.”
Eric, normally transparent in his emotions, now looked like someone who had been blindsided by an impossible accident.
“It was only one night,” he muttered.
"Yes. Six weeks ago, on the anniversary of my father's death, when we both drank far too much."
Cornelia watched his beautiful, unreadable face and offered a crooked smile.
“Based on your reaction, it’s clear you don’t want a child with me.”
“Why would you say that? I only—”
Before he could finish, Cornelia reached out and placed something on the table. It was her wedding ring.
“I’m giving it back.”
She spoke quietly, her voice devoid of its usual sharp edge. “I will agree to the divorce settlement without any fuss. Let’s get a divorce.”
Eric’s face, which had been stiff with shock, slowly twisted into a mask of disbelief.
“Do you even realize what you’re saying?”
Their marriage had been a political arrangement forced by the imperial family. It was only natural for him to be stunned by her sudden, confident demand for a divorce.
But Cornelia met his gaze without flinching, her dark purple eyes filled with a mixture of cold resolve and hidden pain.
*I know exactly what I’m saying. I know that if I stay, you will eventually be the end of both me and this child.*