Isabelle’s Face Changed
Isabelle's face flushed with bewilderment. She was not the only one; nearly everyone in the room shared her shock. In this of all situations, the Grand Duchess was the one shielding Agathe Montpis?
"Everyone has a first love, and simply because that love was clumsy is no reason to condemn them."
Even Agathe was stunned. Her short bob swayed against cheeks flushed crimson with shame. Her reason for cutting her hair hadn't been anything grand. Long hair always had to be pinned up or tied back, but short hair required no such effort. And when one wanted to hide a face burning with embarrassment, there was nothing quite like a bob of swaying hair. It was also perfect for concealing eyes that wanted to cry.
No one had ever spoken up for Agathe like this. Even the friends she had shared secrets with had refused to defend her in public, despite knowing she had never said those things. And yet...
"Whether it was distorted or not, the Duchess should know better than anyone that this is hardly a pleasant topic for a young lady of marriageable age."
Of all people, she was the one defending her. Agathe bit her lip. Her stepping forward had by no means been for the Grand Duchess's sake. In fact, had Agathe simply stayed quiet, the Grand Duchess would have sunk on her own. A woman who had snatched the seat beside Curtis Shan Berk without even being worthy of it—seeing her humiliated should have been highly gratifying to Agathe. Yet, she couldn't bear to watch it. Was it because she was naturally kind-hearted? No. It was just... Just... I...
Regardless of Agathe's inner turmoil, the Grand Duchess continued. "Furthermore, for the Duchess—who wasn't even present at the time—to bring this up looks like nothing more than a desperate attempt to escape your current predicament. Unless you have some other motive, I suggest you refrain from exposing another's private embarrassments."
Only then did the realization ripple through the crowd. Agathe Montpis's proposal to Grand Duke Berk had been such a sensational scandal, and such a sore spot for the Montpis family, that everyone had momentarily lost track of the main issue. That wasn't what mattered right now. The young lady of the Montpis family had just accused the Duchess of Glintland of being on Papetin Street.
The corner of Isabelle's mouth twitched slightly. "How touching to see such friendship between two ladies who once vied for the same man."
At those words, Agathe, who had been dazed, instantly glared. That wretched woman. "You think I have a friendship with this woman?"
Suddenly referred to as "this woman," the Grand Duchess pressed her lips together. It was hard to tell if she was holding back a laugh or simply dumbfounded. But their bickering was cut short, as the King quickly stepped between the three women.
"Enough!" The King's voice, as well as his expression, betrayed his deep displeasure. It was likely because Agathe had betrayed his expectations. "The issue at hand is whether the Grand Duchess sold that vase or not!"
I told you, I didn't. As the crowd began to murmur, the King raised his hand again to silence them.
"According to the butler's testimony, it is clear that one of the maids attending the Grand Duchess sold the vase and fled!"
"I-I did not quite say..." Philip tried to interject, but flinched under the King's murderous glare and bowed his head. The butler had indeed stated that the maid had vanished, but he had never claimed it was clear the Grand Duchess had sold the vase. Still, he could hardly object when the King chose to leap to his own wild conclusions.
"Then there is only one answer. Let the Grand Duchess present proof that she did not do so!"
"Excuse me?" Chloe's jaw dropped in sheer disbelief.
"These two vases are proof enough for anyone that the Grand Duchess engineered this!"
"What about Lady Agathe Montpis's testimony?!"
"Silence!" The King roared, the veins in his neck bulging as he shut Chloe down. "The mere word of a twenty-year-old girl claiming she 'saw' something cannot be trusted! Compared to that, this vase, the butler's testimony, and the disappearance of the maid from the ducal residence are far more definitive proof, are they not?"
It was utterly preposterous. Oh, so if a thirty-year-old testified, you'd believe them? Just as Chloe was about to snap back with that retort—
"Your Majesty. May your foolish younger brother offer a word?" A low, quiet, yet resolute voice cut through the noise, instantly silencing the clamorous banquet hall. It was Curtis, who had been watching the situation unfold from behind Chloe. He gently took Chloe by the shoulders and guided her back. He also gave Agathe a light nudge. "Step back for a moment, Sergeant."
"Speak, Grand Duke." The King, riding high on his own momentum, practically dared him to try. He looked entirely prepared to crush whatever the Grand Duke had to say. Yet, unlike Chloe and Agathe, Curtis remained perfectly calm. Or perhaps 'indifferent' was the better word. After all, it wasn't as if the King treating him this way was anything new.
Though Chloe didn't know it, her thoughts were surprisingly aligned with the reality Curtis had endured for nearly thirty years. For instance, Curtis was exceptionally sensitive to the word 'whore.' He had learned the word at the tender age of seven, and the one who had taught it to him was none other than the King, who was the Crown Prince at the time. There was no need to elaborate on whom the King had been referring to. Back then, the seven-year-old Curtis had tried to argue back with his clumsy vocabulary, only to be kicked aside.
"It is exceptionally difficult for an innocent person to produce evidence, precisely because they did nothing in the first place," Curtis said calmly. It was a statement he had wanted to throw in the King's face dozens of times over the years, yet had never once uttered. The reason was simple: the King's reaction was entirely predictable. And just as he expected, the King snorted. "I am sure it must be terribly frustrating if she truly did not do it!"
"In that case—" But Curtis was cut off before he could finish. The King raised his voice even louder to berate the Grand Duchess. "I have heard that the Grand Duchess's spending is outrageously extravagant! Over the past few weeks, the money she has squandered on wedding preparations alone reportedly amounts to hundreds of millions of sing!"
Chloe's pink eyes widened. I spent that much? Well, to answer her question, she actually had. Though Chloe herself likely didn't know, the fabrics and luxury goods Curtis had separately purchased through Julia amounted to tens of millions of sing on their own. It was an easy deduction, considering Julia, who now served as the Grand Duchess's maid, had originally been a seamstress. In the first place, the very idea of a Grand Duchess buying clothes directly from a shop on Papetin Street was laughable. That had only been out of sheer urgency; rulers did not have their clothes made in the same places as commoners. Furthermore, a woman who couldn't even fathom such things would hardly have the cleverness to manufacture a counterfeit vase. But there was no need to explain all of this here.
Curtis spoke up. "If we are measuring by that standard, then I must be the one who is outrageously extravagant. The jewels and garments I ordered for the Grand Duchess without her knowledge cost several times more than what she purchased herself."
Still, he found his current predicament of having to say such things in public utterly absurd. That I, of all people, have to stand here and talk about spending money on a woman's wardrobe? Of all things. Not that the fact itself was insulting—unless the woman standing behind him found it so. She had finally risen to become the Grand Duchess, only to be deemed suspicious because her family had once been poor. Not only that, but despite now being in a position where she could spend money like water, she was insulted with the accusation that she must have sold a gift because she used to be penniless. Three million sing to silence a maid? He almost laughed. The intention behind fabricating such a paltry sum was so transparent. It carried the obvious mockery that she had married him for money. Yet, what was both amusing and unsettling was that, technically speaking...
He bit his lip and looked up. The King was glaring back at him. His eyes demanded to know if Curtis truly intended to oppose him like this, here and now. It was also a look of deep skepticism, questioning whether Curtis Shan Berk had actually married this Grand Duchess out of love. Is that bastard really doing this because he loves her? That was the question in his eyes. It wasn't love. He was simply furious. But there was no need to clarify that to him.
"There is one thing I would like to state."
"Speak."
"Your Majesty has put forward the disappearance of a maid from the ducal residence as proof that the Grand Duchess sold this vase."
"And?"
Curtis looked at Isabelle la Glintland. Her doll-like, beautiful face was devoid of expression. Soon, he knew, even the last drop of color would drain from it. With that thought, Curtis spoke.
"I regret to inform this assembly that a personal maid who served Duchess Isabelle la Glintland of the Glintland delegation has also gone missing here in Ivanneres."
"What?"
"What on earth..."
The King and Isabelle spoke simultaneously, then fell silent.
Curtis replied with a blank face. "As Brigadier General of the Royal Guard, I, Curtis Shan Berk, have a duty to receive reports regarding the security of foreign delegations."
"My maid is—!" Isabelle tried to speak again, but Curtis cut her off.
"Theodora."
Isabelle reflexively looked behind her. A female officer with glasses and an expressionless face stood there. For some reason, there seemed to be a faint trace of annoyance lingering between her brows.