Chapter 62
Chapter 62
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Gossip Over Tea
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Heavens, I only heard today that he went to Brent, of all things.”
One of the young ladies vented her frustration. She gripped her teacup, feigning nonchalance, but couldn’t hide the humiliation flushing her cheeks.
Another lady seated around the tea table quickly consoled her friend.
“No way would Baron Eden do something foolish, right?”
“Brent, of all places. That Brent.”
Brent.
Raphaelle took a sip of her tea as she recalled the humiliation she’d suffered in front of Dever’s mansion. But to the other young ladies, she appeared as serene and demure as ever—the picture of a princess.
“Truth be told, I made a little deal with the driver who’s always stuck to his side.”
Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
Even Raphaelle found the story intriguing enough that her elegant arched brows twitched slightly.
“I asked him to let me know if the baron went anywhere unseemly.”
“Heavens!”
One lady’s exclamation made the young lady’s face turn scarlet. Even she knew it was a petty, embarrassing tactic to share with others.
“M-Mother said all the other ladies have their own spies on their husbands.”
Raphaelle gazed at the young lady’s flustered excuses. Her father was infamous as a lecher, so the “advice” from her mother made perfect sense.
“And so.”
Raphaelle, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.
In an instant, every eye at the tea table turned to the princess.
“The guests invited to Dever’s estate went to the Brent protection zone, is that it?”
The subtle emphasis on Dever brought immediate silence to the table.
The young ladies exchanged quick glances among themselves. Raphaelle pretended not to notice as she took another sip of tea.
There weren’t many in Nexus who could drop the “Duke” title and call him simply Dever. Even Raphaelle referred to him as Duke Dever—or Cliff Duke—in public.
But they all understood the intent behind her first private use of his full name.
She was making it clear.
She would be Dever’s wife, and now she held some authority over him.
The young lady who’d been forced to badmouth Dever in front of the princess went pale.
“I-I don’t know if the duke went, but…”
“But?”
“Baron Eden did go…”
“Oh dear.”
Raphaelle gently took the young lady’s hand, her expression one of genuine sympathy. The lady’s cheeks burned even redder than before.
She’d meant it as polite commiseration, but it had backfired, exposing her fiancé’s foolishness. And with her own marriage looming, it made her look just as ridiculous.
“Becoming one man’s wife means enduring a great many things.”
“Yes, that’s true…”
The young lady clamped her mouth shut before saying more. Her pouting lips betrayed her dissatisfaction, but she lacked the courage to argue with a princess.
Raphaelle smiled faintly to herself. She could guess exactly what the lady had been about to say.
She’d probably gossip about it later, when Raphaelle wasn’t around. They knew her origins, after all—how dare the illegitimate daughter of a concubine lecture them on wifely virtue.
But they’d never say it to her face.
That was why Raphaelle loved power. No one could speak ill of her. Everyone could be placed beneath her feet.
“The flowers are lovely, aren’t they?”
With Raphaelle’s pivot, praise poured forth immediately.
The pink wisteria draping the greenhouse’s glass ceiling had changed again since the first post-war gathering. The petals scattered across the floor were exotic imports she’d never seen before.
As Raphaelle’s blue eyes scanned the ceiling, they settled on Aines, who stared fixedly at her teacup amid the endless admiration.
Even in her fine dress, Aines’s face remained shadowed.
“Aines.”
“Yes? Oh, yes?”
Aines jerked her head up, startled that she’d been called, and stammered. She forced a smile, but Raphaelle didn’t return it.
“Is something wrong? Your face is so dark.”
“Something wrong?”
Aines shook her head.
“I was just wondering the same thing. How could a lady on the verge of marriage look so glum? Is everything all right?”
“Did the two of you—who are always so close—have a lovers’ quarrel?”
“I can’t even imagine Count Gail getting angry. Hee-hee.”
The ladies, seizing on the juicy gossip, now turned on Aines.
“Oh, no, it’s not that. The wedding preparations are going smoothly. And the count is working hard on his rehabilitation.”
Aines fiddled with the rim of her teacup.
Raphaelle missed none of those tiny movements.
“Then what could it be?”
“Exactly. It’s not as if your dowry is lacking, Lady.”
“Will you stay in Wayne after the wedding?”
Raphaelle, who had listened silently to the inane questions, finally spoke.
“I’ve acquired some new jewelry. Would you ladies care to help me see if it’s worthwhile?”
It was the perfect moment to check.
Raphaelle beckoned to a nearby servant.
“Please escort the ladies inside.”
Shifting the gossip was child’s play.
The young ladies, thrilled at the prospect of viewing the princess’s overflowing luxuries, filed out of the greenhouse garden one by one. Raphaelle approached Aines, who lingered until the end.
“Aines, my friend.”
The endearment was sweet.
“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”
“Raphaelle…”
Aines looked beautiful, clutching her cooled teacup. Every time Raphaelle saw her overly innocent, lovable friend, she was reminded of how utterly opposite they were.
She could never mimic that expression, not even in her wildest dreams.
“Something to do with the marriage?”
Raphaelle knew it wasn’t, but asked anyway.
By gnawing gently at the itch like this, her naive friend would eventually confess.
“Raphaelle, do you remember when we visited the frontline hospital last time?”
“Hmm? Madam Molly’s hospital?”
Just like this.
“Yes. There was a friend of mine there—the top graduate of nursing school.”
“Vaguely, I think.”
“She had jet-black hair, pale skin, and…”
Aines trailed off, then added cautiously.
“She’s a friend who can’t speak…”
“Ah.”
Raphaelle nodded as if just remembering.
“The one who nearly got in big trouble with the enemy, right?”
“Yes! Beth! You do remember!”
Aines’s face lit up briefly before clouding over again.
“The thing is, she’s gone missing.”
“Missing?”
“She vanished suddenly. On the very morning we were heading back to Wayne.”
“Is that so?”
Raphaelle patted Aines’s shoulder sympathetically. Emboldened, Aines—who had hesitated at first—poured out her words like a torrent.
“It’s just too strange. Disappearing out of nowhere, and no word since. Even Professor Collins is helping search, but not a single trace? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe she eloped with some soldier in a whirlwind romance?”
“No, that’s not it!”
Aines clamped her mouth shut.
She’d shouted instinctively at the idea of Beth running off with another man. Even to Raphaelle, she couldn’t tolerate slander against Beth.
And elope? Beth and...
The image of Duke Dever storming into the nurses’ quarters like he’d tear it down was still fresh in her mind.
It felt irreverent to think of Beth and the duke together in the princess’s presence, but she couldn’t help it.
“Of course not. Something else must have happened. Raphaelle, could you do me a favor?”
“Anything I can do.”
“Could you look into Beth for me? You’re imperial family, after all—”
“Aines.”
Raphaelle’s tone was firm, snapping her back to reality.
“Do you really think it’s right to wield Nexus imperial power to find your friend? A mere nurse—someone whose background is even unclear?”
“N-No, that’s not what I—”
“And besides.”
Raphaelle lowered her long lashes, feigning pathos. Her voice softened, laced with a hint of tears.
“What power do I even have in this imperial family? All I do is tend the gardens. Everyone looks down on me—you know that.”
“No, Raphaelle! What are you saying?”
“I’m sorry. I want to help you, but it breaks my heart that I can’t.”
“I shouldn’t have asked. Raphaelle, look at me.”
Aines cupped Raphaelle’s tear-glistened cheeks.
“Don’t worry about it. Beth must have her reasons. News will come soon. I let my worry get the best of me.”
Beth, Beth, to the end.
Raphaelle swallowed the one name that stuck in her craw and nodded.
“Why don’t you head to your room first? I’ll compose myself and follow shortly.”
“All right. Hurry and come.”
Belle appeared at Raphaelle’s side as she sat alone at the now-empty tea table. She was always there like a shadow wherever the princess went.
“Your Highness, the gazette has arrived.”
Belle offered a neatly folded sheet of paper.
“Gossip worth sharing now that Dever’s back, I suppose.”
Raphaelle snatched it with a swift hand—any trace of her earlier gloom gone.
The gazette was Nexus’s yellow press. It thrived on powerful nobles’ scandals and their dirty little secrets. Even as it feigned propriety, it shaped Nexus public opinion.
And its star subject was none other than Dever Cliff.
The gazette had been sporadic during the war, but it ramped up the moment he returned to Wayne.
Sure enough.
Raphaelle’s lips twisted at the sight of Dever’s initials dominating the front page.
“He went all the way to the Brent protection zone to find his lowly wartime lover. She might be in any protection zone in Nexus, they say.”
Poor, foolish Dever.
“Everyone must be scrambling to search the protection zones for her now. I can already see the pathetic schemes to catch Dever’s eye using her as bait.”
Even as she spat venomous criticism, a pleased smile played on Raphaelle’s lips.
Belle ventured cautiously at the sight of the princess—who she’d expected to rage—looking oddly satisfied.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?”
“Of course I am.”
Beth Jens had vanished.
Hidden so thoroughly that even Collins, Aines, and Dever himself couldn’t find her.
“I never dreamed the girl would act in a way that suits me so well.”
Raphaelle rose lightly from her seat.
Outside, it was frozen solid, but her greenhouse garden bloomed with early spring flowers. Her pale hand brushed a bud, and the trembling petals were utterly charming.
“Spring is coming.”
But not even those flowers could match the red of Raphaelle’s lips.