The Housekeeper's Oath
The housekeeper had given his recognition. Those below him couldn't possibly challenge Ibel in front of her.
That acknowledgment wasn't won through marriage.
A noblewoman proved her ability to manage the estate, and only then did the housekeeper bow his head and pledge his loyalty of his own accord.
And Ibel bringing Cecily Bethel here to witness this scene was the aristocratic way of expressing it.
There is no place for you here. So abandon any thoughts of using Genevieve to gain something.
'Ah, how chilling.'
Cecily hadn't studied noble etiquette or rhetoric, but her quick wits allowed her to grasp the implication, and she trembled violently.
Yes, the bigger the predator, the better the prey.
Facing a herbivore that shook at her slightest word wouldn't stir her blood in the least.
'Fun! So much fun. What should I do?'
Cecily's eyes gleamed slyly as she licked her lips.
Her gaze was now fixed not on Victor, but on Ibel.
'She didn't use the children or put them out front. Yet she naturally imprinted that she and Victor are the masters of this house.'
Assigning minor roles, taking responsibility herself, and leaving the backup to Victor.
How cunning!
'With this one move, she's swept away everyone siding with Genevieve.'
She didn't know how long this had been planned... but it couldn't have been long.
Ibel had only recently arrived at the estate.
Yet she'd already earned the butler's recognition.
'Good. Very good.'
Cecily pressed her pounding chest.
She wanted to fight right then and there, but not here.
'Ah, when will that woman come to the capital? I hope it's soon. Just which family is she from?'
At first, she hadn't paid her any mind, but her misjudgment was amusing in itself.
'Of course Victor Bayern wouldn't place just anyone as mistress of the house.'
While Cecily was lost in her thoughts, the matter reached its conclusion.
Those who had dared to mock their master shuffled out of the estate.
Not even given a cart for their belongings, they had to carry their heavy loads on foot.
And they wouldn't get recommendation letters either.
'Emma, was it? The one who came to me once. Genevieve will foam at the mouth when she hears she's been dismissed.'
She had seen everything she needed to.
It had been more entertaining than the theater, so she could forgive the earlier water incident.
"We apologize for showing you such an unseemly sight, milady."
A moment later, Ibel approached Cecily.
Cecily smiled brightly without realizing it and replied,
"It's fine. Goodness, the children must have suffered so much. After such treatment, it's no wonder they'd want to play a nasty prank."
"It was meant for my aunt, but it 'accidentally' soiled your dress. We'll compensate you for the garment. Tailors are coming tomorrow—shall we have one made for you then?"
"Oh, wonderful!"
She wanted to call her sister.
Could she call her sister?
Really? Why not?
She wanted to get close!
Ibel offering 'compensation' meant she was declaring herself 'the lady of this house.'
That a mere dress, no matter the cost, could be provided endlessly by the Bayern family.
Cecily practically stomped her feet, glancing around eagerly.
She wanted to link arms, at least.
'So cool! So cool, I want to crush her underfoot.'
It was Cecily's perverse taste to want to bring the strong to their knees.
Even her father shook his head at it sometimes.
She stepped closer as if to link arms, but Ibel firmly kept her distance.
Yet she never acted rude... which excited Cecily to the point of salivating.
'She doesn't despise me, fear me, or ignore me. Perfect indifference.'
Why?
I'm so pretty!
It was an absurd train of thought, but every word was sincere.
Watching the Bayern family's retreating backs, Cecily wore a dreamy expression, as if in a reverie.
She was glad she'd come here.
Emma had been dismissed.
Her most comfortable underling, who had been her hands and feet, was gone.
What infuriated her most was that the entire process had been carried out without her knowledge.
Hearing the news belatedly, Genevieve collapsed onto her bed, groaning before grinding her teeth in rage.
A new maid would come tomorrow.
Undoubtedly to spy on her every move under that wench Ibel's orders.
'No choice. I'll have to wait for the exhibition.'
Only three days remained until the sponsored exhibition.
The invitation already specified a dress code of 'elegant green.'
'If Damian's completely fallen for her, I'll have to turn Anselm against her.'
Had she ever been backed into such a corner in her life?
Genevieve clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms.
It took all her strength to hold back from chasing after her and tearing the skin from her face.
After all that commotion, the day had finally arrived.
The morning of the sponsored exhibition at the ducal residence brought refreshingly cool air.
As if to air out the estate stirred up like a disturbed beehive, the sky was clear, allowing the servants to shake off their fear and gloom and bustle about diligently.
Genevieve, who had shut herself away, emerged, grabbing maids like rats and creating a frenzy.
After a hectic morning, the outdoor party venue was nearly complete.
Green ribbons, leaves, and white flowers adorned each round table.
A champagne tower stacked with no fewer than seventy-seven silver flutes.
With the artists' works on display, it looked quite impressive.
Watching it all through the window, Ibel gradually finished her own preparations.
"But why green? It's a spring color. With autumn approaching, something else might have been better... or maybe to bid farewell to passing summer."
Eloi chattered as she styled her hair.
Ibel wore a dress with an amber brooch matching her eyes.
It perfectly suited the 'elegant green' code, though its somewhat dated design had given her pause.
Victor's gifts generally followed current fashions.
"Eloi, just to be sure... this dress isn't Seranna's, is it?"
The question slipped out casually.
Her nape prickled for some reason.
Whenever she felt this, those trashy twins usually showed up.
If it was an instinct for impending threats... better safe than sorry.
Eloi paused in arranging her hair and tilted her head.
"I came here just before Lady Seranna passed, so I'm not sure. She always wore white back then."
"I see. Fetch Banya, then."
Don't brush it off just because it felt off.
The twins, especially Anselm, were sensitive about Seranna's belongings.
Losing more points here would be trouble.
"You called for me, ma'am?"
"Come in, Banya."
"That dress..."
The elderly woman arrived shortly after and faltered.
Ibel, reading everything from her expression, pressed her brow.
"It's Seranna's, isn't it? Eloi, help me change—bring something else."
"Ah, yes, right away!"
"Banya. Was this in my wardrobe from the start?"
She knew the answer already, though phrased as a question. Probably not.
Which meant someone had placed it there.
'Genevieve might have meddled from the beginning.'
Ibel changed into a pristine white dress with a light green ribbon and instructed them to carefully fold Seranna's garment away.
She'd catch flak for not matching the dress code, but this was better.
"Banya, tell Anselm I'd like him to stop by."
"Right away. My, that was close."
"Indeed."
How much would Anselm have hated it if she'd gone out like that? Clearly calculated.
"You called for me?"
Anselm arrived already perfectly attired for the party.
His hair neatly combed back, a suit tailored to his frame. His cheeks were gaining color lately, and his blue eyes sparkled.
No matter how cold he acted, to an adult, he was just adorable.
"This dress was mixed into my wardrobe. I thought it best to return it to you, so I called you over."
"Ah."
Anselm stared silently at the dress in the box, at a loss for words.
He was probably recalling his mother wearing this green dress.
"Thank you... for returning it."
"I'm the one who's sorry."
She replied softly, secretly sighing in relief.
With this morning's fuss, the day ahead looked far from easy.