Chapter 55: Welfare of the Grand Duke’s Castle
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 55: Welfare of the Grand Duke’s Castle
She held a thick stack of Northern News in her hands.
“Cecilia. You should knock, no matter how wide the door is open.”
“Oh my, should I go back out, knock, and come back in then?”
I hurriedly caught Cecilia as she made a move to head back out with the magazines.
“Just hand them over already.”
Cecilia giggled and passed me the copies of Northern News.
I flipped through the pages immediately until a beautifully colored recipe column appeared.
‘Cecil’s Cooking Recipe 1: Apple Pie.’
The column title was named after Cecilia, accompanied by a mouth-watering illustration of an apple pie. Below it, the necessary ingredients and the cooking steps were neatly organized with illustrations.
Thanks to Morina’s detailed drawing of the measuring cups, the instructions were clear enough for someone to bake the pie just by looking at the pictures. At the bottom of the column, there was even a satisfying description of the ‘Today’s Menu’ available at ‘Marie’s Inn,’ the recipe’s provider.
“It turned out so well, didn’t it? They say the reaction is already incredible!”
I narrowed my eyes at the overly excited Cecilia.
“The magazines were delivered less than two hours ago.”
“It’s true! The deliveryman said the entire path here was wafting with the scent of apple pie!”
I cleared my throat skeptically, but a smile tugged at my lips nonetheless. The column had turned out better than expected. I had been curious about how it would look after the printing house finished the proofs, and the colors of the illustrations were even more vivid and clean than I’d anticipated. It made the recipe itself look incredibly appealing.
‘Of course, it’s largely thanks to the great layout I designed.’
I was very satisfied with the result in many ways. Feeling a surge of pride, I turned back to Cecilia.
“Cecilia, how many copies did you buy?”
“Even if we give some away, we’ll have about ten left.”
Reta was already holding a magazine Cecilia had given her, staring intently at the illustrations her younger sister had drawn.
“Will ten be enough?”
I gently took the hand Cecilia was using to count the remaining copies and gave her a beaming smile.
“Good things should be shared.”
*
“...Who put these here?”
“Reta placed them here, ma’am.”
Marzella tightened her jaw as she stared at the magazines before her. In the entrance hall of the West Annex, where the maids’ quarters were located, a small table that hadn't been there yesterday now stood, piled high with copies of Northern News.
Marzella trembled with rage. The West Annex was strictly under her jurisdiction. Here, she was practically the master of the castle. And yet, someone dared to do this without consulting the Head Maid...!
“Remove them at once.”
Just as Marzella barked the order and turned to leave—
“B-but, we were told Her Highness the Consort gave the order herself.”
The maid who had the misfortune of being nearby stammered.
“She said to place them in the entrance hall so that anyone who wants one can take a look.”
Marzella’s breathing grew heavy.
‘So you’re saying you won’t listen to me now?’
The maid shrank back under the Head Maid’s fierce glare. How dare they ignore my orders...!
She ground her teeth, but even as the Head Maid, she couldn't issue an order that directly contradicted the Grand Duchess. Moreover, if she removed something placed so openly in the hall and the Grand Duchess made an issue of it later, it would be a headache.
‘That girl Reta will surely tattle on me.’
Struggling to regain her composure, Marzella gave a low instruction to the maid.
“Tell the girls on the next shift. Do not even lay a finger on those magazines.”
“U-understood.”
The maid nodded with a troubled expression. Marzella expected the magazines to sit there untouched for days until they were covered in dust. Snorting, she headed back to her duties.
However, the moment she stepped onto the back path leading to the main castle, Marzella couldn't believe her eyes. From the maids carrying laundry to the servants leaning against windows for a quick break, and even the laborers heading toward the stables in the distance—everyone either had a copy of Northern News in their hand or tucked into their back pocket.
‘Just how many did she distribute?’
Marzella blinked in sheer absurdity. She realized too late that the mistress of the house hadn't just provided free magazines for the servants’ quarters.
“To think Her Highness would care about us like this.”
“I feel so guilty for badmouthing her behind her back.”
The maids hid amongst themselves, whispering their newfound fondness for the Grand Duchess.
‘What’s the big deal about a magazine you can buy for a few coins outside?’
Marzella vented her anger by wandering around and reprimanding innocent maids for negligence.
‘To do such a thing without consulting the Head Maid.’
The more she thought about it, the more resentful she felt toward the Grand Duchess. She didn't care if it was the Grand Duchess’s order. As soon as she returned to the quarters, she would confiscate every single magazine.
With that vow, Marzella returned to the quarters for the evening roll call, only to bite her lip hard. The entrance hall was empty; the mountain of magazines had vanished, leaving only the lonely table behind.
*
“W-why, this... this insolent girl!”
Marquis Frais crumpled the letter and threw it violently. His heavy, ragged breathing echoed through the room.
“After all I did to raise her, she shows no gratitude!”
‘What on earth did she say to make him so angry?’
Ladriel, who was sitting across from him on the drawing-room sofa, discreetly picked up the letter her father had thrown. It was a letter from Annette, who had fled to the North.
[To Marquis Landen Frais,
Marquis, have you been well?
Perhaps it’s because I rarely saw you even when I was in the Capital, but your face is already becoming a faint memory.
Though I arrived in the North empty-handed and shameless, fortunately, unlike some people, the generous Grand Duke has provided me with many comforts.
My ladies-in-waiting and the maids who assist me are far more talented than those in the Capital, so I suggest you focus your attention on the affairs of the Marquisate instead...]
‘Oh my god, has she gone mad?’
Shock filled Ladriel’s eyes as she read. The tone was polite, but the content was filled with nothing but insults and disrespect. As she read on with a stunned face, she blinked, doubting her eyes when she reached the postscript.
[P.S. I’m not usually one to stick strictly to formalities, but shouldn't there be some social etiquette? In the future, please show proper respect to the Grand Duchess when writing—ah, actually, don’t bother. I won’t be replying anymore! It’s been a displeasure knowing you, and let’s never meet again.]
The body of the letter had at least tried to feign politeness, but it seemed her emotions had boiled over by the time she reached the postscript.
“Prepare stationery at once!”
The Marquis, veins bulging on his forehead, screamed at the butler.
“I must teach that ill-mannered girl a lesson.”
‘And how exactly are you going to do that?’
Ladriel swallowed the question. Ever since Annette left, the Marquis had been taking his temper out on her more frequently, so she had naturally learned to keep her head down.
“Let’s see how long you can ignore my letters.”
Muttering to himself, the Marquis left for his office to write. Left alone in the drawing room, Ladriel bit her nails nervously.
‘I was sure she’d be kicked out and sent back immediately. It seems the Grand Duke is treating her surprisingly well.’
She couldn't find a trace of the old, timid, and submissive Annette in that letter. That newfound confidence was irritating, yet she felt a small pang of envy. Was Annette no longer afraid of their father?
Well, she was married now and had a new name. They weren't close by distance, and Annette wasn't active in social circles, so there wasn't much the Marquis could do to harm her.
‘Even if I marry the Third Prince, will I ever be able to escape Father’s shadow?’
Feeling strangely dejected, Ladriel let out a sigh.
*
“They say magazine sales have increased by thirty percent! Isn’t that amazing?”
Looking at the Grand Duchess’s sparkling eyes, Loik nodded deeply.
‘How can a person’s eyes shine like that?’
Even though it wasn't a particularly sunny day, her blue eyes glowed like sapphires.
“It’s only been two weeks! The magazine publisher says they’re being flooded with letters asking for more recipe columns.”
Under the pretext of showing her around the castle grounds that had been closed off during winter, they had walked all the way to the path behind the eastern forest, far from the main castle. However, the Grand Duchess was entirely focused on her story rather than the scenery.
Then again, there wasn't much to see on this path. The trail, which had been maintained only superficially, was overgrown with wild bushes and showed signs of rust.
He didn't know why the neglected parts of the castle had become so glaringly obvious since the Grand Duchess arrived. It was almost a relief that she wasn't paying attention to them.
“Did you know? Cecilia told me that even people who can’t read well are buying the magazine.”
The Grand Duchess turned to Loik, beaming with excitement.
“Because of the recipes! It seems that as long as they can recognize the ingredients, they follow the recipe by looking at the pictures. Isn’t that fascinating?”
“I see.”
“I had no idea people were so interested in cooking methods.”
Loik lightly wrapped his arm around her shoulders from behind to prevent her from being scratched by stray branches, as she wasn't looking where she was going. He kept a slight distance so their bodies wouldn't directly touch.
Lately, whenever the oblivious Grand Duchess would suddenly grab his hand or link arms with him, he had to desperately calm himself by thinking of his most tedious and grueling duties. He felt pathetic that his body reacted with such shameless stimulation to the touch of such a pure and innocent woman.
‘The problem is, it’s getting harder and harder to stay calm.’
In the end, Loik had chosen to exhaust his body. Even today, he had woken up at dawn and trained like a madman for nearly two hours, completely draining his physical strength. It was painful in its own way, but at least he wasn't losing control of himself.
‘I’ll probably have to run for another hour tonight before I can sleep.’
“I heard the servants are also very happy thanks to the magazine,” Loik said softly, his extended arm tense.
The atmosphere of the castle, which had always been cold and stagnant even as spring approached, had begun to change little by little.