“Could she really have gone out?”
As Eric stepped through the heavy front doors, the household staff immediately dropped into deep bows.
“Your Excellency, you’ve returned,” Randon murmured, keeping his head low. The butler had noticed his master was becoming increasingly restless lately, spending more time away from the estate than usual. *What is troubling him?*
After a moment, Randon remembered a pressing matter. “Your Grace, a personal messenger arrived from the Marquis of Arguin a short while ago.”
“What did he want?”
“He noted that your scheduled appointment has passed and wished to know why you haven't visited the estate.”
Only then did Eric recall his promise to Madeleine. It had slipped his mind entirely.
The Marquis of Arguin owned a jewelry house that specialized in refining raw stones into high-end accessories. He was one of House Brant’s most consistent clients, but his latest proposal was... questionable. He wanted to secure an exclusive contract for jade at a fixed price of ten silver per carat—double the current market rate—for the next five years.
*Jade has been steady at five silver for decades,* Eric thought. *Doubling the price sounds like a windfall, but a five-year monopoly is a long time to commit...*
But right now, he couldn't focus on business. Cornelia’s recent behavior was a persistent itch at the back of his mind.
“Send him word that I will provide an answer in a few days,” Eric said, dismissing the topic.
Randon’s eyes widened. To any bystander, the deal was a massive benefit for the Duchy. Why was his master hesitating?
“But Your Excellency, the Marquis has sent people several times already. To delay further might—”
Eric’s expression shifted, his features contorting with a sudden, sharp edge. “Since when has the House of Brant begun catering to the whims of the Marquis of Arguin?”
Randon swallowed hard, his voice trembling. “Your Grace, I didn't mean to imply—”
“You are the butler of this house,” Eric cut him off, his voice ice-cold. “A butler does not question the decisions of his master. Do not overstep again.”
“Yes... of course, Your Grace.”
Randon felt a wave of relief that he hadn't been dismissed on the spot, but his chest felt tight with a new anxiety. *The Dowager will be furious when she hears of this delay...*
“Regarding the carriage,” Eric said, his voice snapping Randon back to attention. “I noticed the Duchess’s personal carriage is missing. Where is she?”
“Oh,” Randon said, almost dismissively. “The Duchess went out with her slave earlier today.”
“And where did she say she was going?”
“I... I’m afraid I didn't ask.”
Eric’s fists clenched. Randon had been able to recount every detail of the Marquis’s message, yet he couldn't even provide a destination for the lady of the house.
“I believe I gave orders to be informed of everything that happens within this estate. Why was I not told of her departure?”
“Well, I didn't think it was unusual for the Duchess to go out...”
“What if she were to have an accident?” Eric demanded.
Randon shook his head vigorously. “That’s hardly likely, is it? She took that slave with her, after all.”
“And you think a single slave—not even an armed knight—is enough to prevent a disaster?”
“That is...”
Eric’s lip curled in a sneer. “It seems that to you, the pregnant wife of your Duke is of less consequence than the Marquis of Arguin.”
The gravity of his mistake finally hit Randon. “Your Grace, please, forgive me. I meant no disrespect!”
Normally, Eric would have overlooked it. Randon was a childhood companion, the son of a maid who had been kind to him. But today, Eric’s patience had run dry.
“I am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness,” Eric said, his gaze fixed on Randon. “Randon, you are hereby demoted from butler to servant.”
“What? But sir, I—!”
“If the Duchess chooses to forgive you,” Eric interrupted, “then I will reconsider. Until then, you are dismissed.”
Despair washed over Randon’s face as he retreated.
***
The shopping trip had done wonders for my stress levels. I was on my way back to the carriage when the sound of a melody caught my ear.
I stopped in my tracks.
On the corner of the street, a musician was playing a soft, haunting tune. It was a melody I knew by heart—a song I had hummed a thousand times in another life.
*Damian always slept so well to this song...*
I stood there in a daze, the music wrapping around me like a ghost of the life I had lost. Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. I missed my son with a physical ache. I wanted to be back in that nursery, holding him, singing him to sleep one more time.
“My lady?”
Sardin’s voice pulled me back to the present. I realized I was making a scene. I quickly wiped my eyes, my expression hardening back into its usual mask.
“Let’s return to the estate. The carriage is waiting.”
***
“I am giving you one chance to redeem yourselves. Find the Duchess and bring her back within the hour.”
Eric’s voice echoed through the courtyard as he reprimanded the household knights. He had already torn into Martha, the head maid, for her ignorance of Cornelia’s whereabouts.
He knew the staff kept their distance from her. Cornelia had always been a royal first and a duchess second; her sharp tongue and arrogant air made her difficult to approach. But what Eric had assumed was a mutual, respectful distance was clearly something else entirely. The staff wasn't just avoiding her; they were ignoring her.
*Why didn't she ever tell me?*
The woman who used to raise a fuss over the smallest slight from a noble was being treated like a ghost in her own home, and she hadn't said a word. He couldn't understand her at all.
An ominous feeling tugged at his gut. Even with Janet shadow-escorting her, he felt a restless need to see her for himself. Just as he was about to mount his horse, a servant came running toward him.
“Your Grace! The Duchess has returned!”
***
I looked down at the heavy bag of raw jade sitting on the seat beside me, a small smirk playing on my lips.
It had been far too long since I’d enjoyed a proper shopping spree. Within the next few months, the opening of new sea routes to the eastern continent would cause the price of jade to skyrocket by fifty times its current value. The East prized the stone above almost any other jewel, and direct trade would turn the common stone into a luxury commodity.
With this, my "emergency fund" was secure. Now, I just had to deal with my husband.
I let out a soft laugh as I remembered Eric’s recent busy schedule. In my past life, he had signed that disastrous exclusive contract with the Marquis of Arguin around this time. He had locked the Duchy into selling jade at ten silver for five years—a deal that became a catastrophe when the market price hit fifty gold.
Eric had spent years trying to break that contract. He eventually stopped selling the jade altogether rather than take the loss, only for the price to crash back down two years later.
Through it all, the Dowager had refused to abandon her ties to the Marquis, even at the cost of her son’s fortune. I had once thought Eric was growing distant from Madeleine because of the business fallout, but I had been wrong. He had still chosen her in the end.
*Well, their relationship is no longer any concern of mine.*
I clenched my fist, pushing the thought aside. As the carriage came to a stop in the courtyard, I reached for the door handle. But before I could touch it, the door was wrenched open from the outside.
“Cornelia!”
Eric was standing there, his face tight with a fury I hadn't seen in a long time.
“It’s rude to open a carriage door so abruptly,” I said, my voice cool.
“Where have you been?”
“I went out. Why does it matter to you?”
“Answer me.”
His tone was usually so measured, but now it lacked its characteristic calm. He looked genuinely angry.
*He probably thinks I was meeting my 'lover,'* I thought. *If I don't give him something, he'll only become more persistent.*
“I went to the city to go shopping. I needed a change of pace.”
He stared at me for a long time, his gaze searching my face. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “From now on, you will inform the staff of your destination before you leave. And you will not go anywhere without an escort of knights.”
I furrowed my brow. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll cause another scandal?”
My sarcasm only made him frown deeper. “You are a member of my family. Your safety is my responsibility.”
I let out a sharp laugh. *A member of your family...*
He still wouldn't call me his wife, yet he was trying to exert control over me under the guise of "family responsibility." He just didn't want his reputation tarnished by a missing or injured wife before the divorce was finalized.
I stepped to the edge of the carriage, only to see Eric extending his gloved hand toward me.
“Take it,” he commanded.