Chapter 126
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 126
A few days later.
The boutiques located in the Grand Duchy’s commercial district were swarmed with sudden crowds.
There was only one reason.
“The weather is so lovely; it would be fun to host a party. I should hold one this weekend.”
It was because of those words Tulia had uttered on the day of the picnic—the very event where nobles had flocked like clouds, desperate to exchange even a single word with the Grand Duke and the Marquis.
The nobility had been quick to sense the shift in power behind that simple statement.
She didn’t ask the Grand Duke or the Marquis for permission to host a party; she simply announced it.
It was proof that Tulia Frezier—the same scandalous lady who, until recently, had been surrounded by nothing but foul rumors—had truly seized the reins of power within the Grand Ducal House of Frezier.
Furthermore, Marquis Aster’s behavior throughout the spring picnic, where he was entirely devoted to looking after his daughter, served as evidence that the rumors of Tulia Frezier being a "fake daughter" with no blood relation were false.
The shift in power within the empire’s sole Grand Ducal house brought changes as seismic as a tectonic shift to some, and as gentle as a spring breeze to others.
* * *
‘Ha, she’s inviting me to a party?’
The hand holding the invitation trembled violently.
‘Is that wench insane? She knows exactly what kind of state I’m in right now!’
Sandra had also received an invitation. From what she had heard, Belladonna had received one as well.
‘She won’t even let me see my mother, yet she sends a party invitation! I’m even under a confinement order!’
Under the command of Grand Duke Asis Frezier, they had been placed under confinement, meaning they hadn’t seen each other’s faces for over a week.
“If Lady Tulia invited me to a party, does that mean His Grace has lifted the confinement order?” Sandra asked haughtily.
However, Grans, Tulia’s assistant butler, merely replied with cold eyes.
“That is not the case. The confinement order placed upon Lady Sandra remains in effect.”
Those words wounded her pride even further.
She wasn't a fool. Though she wasn't Nigella’s biological daughter, she had been adopted into the Frezier family and raised with the education befitting the foster daughter of a high noble.
Therefore, she understood exactly what the assistant butler’s words implied.
‘It means Tulia is now such a powerhouse in the Grand Duchy that she can send party invitations while ignoring a confinement order!’
She shook with indignation, but she couldn't scream or smash vases like she used to in the Imperial Capital mansion.
There were no maids present to cater to her whims and rush to clean the room.
The strict confinement order decreed by the Grand Duke himself forbade anyone from entering the room, except for the maid who brought her meals three times a day.
‘Once this confinement ends, it’ll be a living hell...’
Her father was now drowning in astronomical debt.
Everything they had enjoyed until now would vanish, and her father would be burdened with heavy liabilities. Would the relationship between her father and mother...
‘...stay the same as before?’
Sandra bit her nails in anxiety.
“What should I do? Should I grab her dress at the party and beg? Should I tell her I was wrong and ask for mercy?”
If she flattered Tulia, fawned over her, and apologized like a madwoman, perhaps Tulia would look upon her situation with pity.
But Sandra’s pride, which had been wounded since the birthday banquet, was now rotting away.
“It’s not fair.” She bit her lip hard. “When you think about it, I’m a granddaughter of the Frezier family too.”
What did it matter if she was adopted? This was blatant discrimination and exclusion.
“So annoying. If only my father had been born the eldest!”
Tulia’s current position and all the power she held should have been hers!
Sandra stood up abruptly and began rummaging through her wardrobe.
“All the other dresses have already been sent to the Young Lady’s quarters. I’m truly sorry for deceiving you all this time.”
On the day the trial ended, her mother had apologized to Tulia while trembling in fear.
However, Sandra’s wardrobe was still intact. Belladonna had brought so many expensive dresses from the Imperial Capital mansion that she had been too overwhelmed to pack them all.
‘To think I have to return all these dresses to that Tulia girl.’
On the day she was eventually kicked out of the Frezier house, her luggage would surely be searched. If she tried to sneak a dress out, there would be hell to pay.
“I’m so mad, this is infuriating!”
Excluding the dresses that had to be returned, all that remained were plain things that looked like "shabby rags."
“I have to wear something like this to a party?”
Tulia would surely try to humiliate her in every way possible.
Then, a thought suddenly flashed through Sandra’s mind. It was a "do or die" moment.
“Fine. I have to return them all anyway.”
Sandra tossed aside the plain dress and picked up an expensive one, its bodice lavishly decorated with shimmering beads.
“I’ll wear it and return it as filthy as possible.”
* * *
“Sandra! Are you insane?!”
A few days later, her mother, whom she met at the party venue, looked extremely haggard.
More importantly...
“What were you thinking, coming out in that dress? Are you stupid, or just lacking a brain?!”
Belladonna was wearing a very plain dress—one that clearly wasn't "stolen from Tulia."
She stood in stark contrast to the flamboyantly dressed Sandra, like mud compared to a crown.
“M-Mother...”
“Are you trying to openly pick a fight with Lady Tulia? Do you think we’re still in the same position as before?!”
“Mother! How could you say that...”
As tears welled in Sandra’s eyes, whispers reached her ears.
“Oh my, look at that. Isn't that dress a seasonal piece from Orlen Boutique?”
“It must cost at least 300 million gold...”
“Then it must belong to Lady Tulia.”
“How shameless. Everyone knows it’s a stolen dress. I suppose that’s what you expect from the daughter of a lowly mistress.”
Sandra whipped her head around. But the noblewomen and young ladies were merely covering their mouths with fans and talking amongst themselves.
She couldn't even tell who had spoken that bit of gossip so loudly for her to hear. Given her current status, she couldn't even demand an explanation.
“You! Go back to your room right now and change!”
Just as Sandra was about to run out in tears...
“Sandra? That dress suits you quite well.”
She froze.
Tulia had entered the room before she even realized it.
Reflexively checking Tulia’s dress, Sandra felt a sense of confusion.
Since Tulia’s wealthy father had returned and she held all the power in the Grand Duchy, Sandra had expected her to wear a dress so extravagant it would be difficult to walk in.
But Tulia was dressed much like she usually was.
It looked expensive, but the price and the designer’s name couldn't even be compared to what Sandra was wearing.
Glancing at her mother, Sandra saw that she also looked somewhat bewildered.
“Shall we all take our seats?”
At the words of their host, Tulia, Sandra was unable to change her dress and awkwardly sat in her designated seat.
“Warm spring is fast approaching, and last time, we weren't able to properly conclude the party due to an unfortunate incident, were we?”
In an instant, the gazes of the nobles shifted toward Sandra and Belladonna Merton.
Since they no longer had any reason to be wary of them, their mockery and criticism pierced the two women without filter.
“That is why I have organized this spring party. This time, I have invited only women.”
That was the strange part.
Given Tulia Frezier’s fiery temperament, they had expected her to host a party for fathers and daughters just to insult them.
They couldn't understand why she had held a party consisting only of women.
As a result, the party was filled only with noblewomen and young ladies—specifically, mothers and daughters.
In other words, Tulia was sitting alone "again."
Why would she, the host, do such a thing?
“While the flower of a party in the Brillant Empire is usually the dance and romance between men and women, isn't it also fun for just us women to gather like this?”
Tulia spoke words that made her intentions impossible to discern, then looked up and smiled brightly.
“Since my mother passed away early, I feel quite envious seeing all the mothers and daughters gathered here together.”
While the noblewomen were glancing at each other, unsure of what to say...
Clap, clap.
Tulia clapped twice.
Soon, the doors to the Grand Banquet Hall opened, and a woman stepped through.
Before anyone could even recognize who she was, Tulia rose from her seat.
“Great Aunt? Welcome.”
“...!”
“...!”
“...!”
For a moment, a massive silence swept through the room.
The noblewomen and ladies, who had been sitting with their mouths agape, turned their gazes toward Belladonna Merton and Sandra a beat late.
Belladonna Merton sat frozen, her face turning paler than wax. Sandra was no different.
“It has been a long time, Tulia.”
“You may speak comfortably to me, Aunt Roxanne.”
“According to the Frezier Family Law, I cannot speak informally to a lady who has been granted Sovereignty Over Internal Affairs by the Family Head.”
The middle-aged noblewoman, whose hair was half-white but who exuded an air of profound dignity, politely declined.
“Then, please sit here, Aunt.”
“Thank you.”
Roxanne Frezier.
As the legal wife of Grand Duke Nigella, she glided forward, her eyes fixed squarely on Belladonna Merton.