Capter 006. Marquis Constant
*Clink*
The teacup slipped from her weakened grip and fell onto the table with a sound as if it might shatter.
“Is that… is that really true, Father?”
Olivia’s golden eyes, framed by her delicate, doll-like features, sparkled like stars.
Marquis Constant, who had been considering whether to reprimand her for her unladylike behavior, shook his head and let a smile curl at the corners of his mouth.
“Yes. Marriage talks are underway with Duke Cheister.”
With his platinum blonde hair neatly combed back with pomade, the Marquis, despite the traces of time, was a refined middle-aged man whose youthful handsomeness was still evident.
Moreover, though he was the heir to the illustrious Constant marquessate, he was also a tragic figure who, after his frail wife bore Olivia five years into their marriage, could no longer have children.
People around him had gossiped that he should take a surrogate to produce a son to carry on the lineage, but there was a problem.
A few years after Olivia’s birth, Marquis Constant had been struck by a severe, unexplained fever that left him unable to sire more heirs.
Unable to bear the shame of being known as a barren man, he had kept it a closely guarded secret, but he couldn’t simply sit idly by when it came to the matter of succession.
Since women were not recognized as heirs, if Marquis Constant could not produce a son, the title would pass to his closest male relative.
If he wasn’t careful, the lineage that had been passed down directly from his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather might, in his generation, be handed over to a collateral branch.
As time slipped by and he considered his age, he could no longer delay. After much deliberation, Marquis Constant devised a plan.
Though it would take time, it was the only way to ensure the title remained in his bloodline.
He would marry off his beloved daughter, Olivia, and adopt the second son born from that union to inherit the title of the next marquis.
Of course, he would need the consent of Olivia’s future husband and would have to persuade his troublesome relatives, but since it was legally sound, they would eventually have to accept it.
Once he made that decision, things flowed smoothly.
When considering families comparable to the Constant marquessate, only two in the Kingdom of Lubeik were suitable.
The Cheister ducal family and the Duraken marquessate.
The Duraken marquessate had already married off their two eldest sons, and the youngest was still too young for marriage.
That left only one option.
The Cheister ducal family.
In truth, it was a far superior candidate compared to the Duraken marquessate.
After all, it was the most prestigious family in the Kingdom of Ruvake, second only to the royal family.
The late Duke Cheister had two sons: one born to his legitimate wife and the other an illegitimate child from an unknown, lowborn mistress.
Naturally, an illegitimate son who couldn’t even bear the Cheister name was not worth considering as a marriage prospect.
Duke Raymond, the current head of the Cheister family, was the most influential noble in the Kingdom of Ruvake, with flawless looks to match.
He was, in fact, an almost excessively perfect match for Olivia.
Once he had settled on Raymond as Olivia’s marriage prospect, there was no further hesitation.
The kingdom’s most eligible bachelor, with such impeccable qualifications, was still unmarried despite passing marriageable age, which only heightened the Marquis’s urgency.
Marquis Constant immediately sent a marriage proposal to the Duke’s mother, the Dowager Duchess, and received a reply right on schedule, as per the customary waiting period.
The letter, beginning with gratitude for proposing such a fine match at a time when she was worried about her son’s marriage, concluded with a suggestion to discuss further soon.
It was, by all accounts, a positive response.
Though Duke Raymond had inherited the title at a young age due to the sudden death of the late Duke during a trip with his mistress, he was undeniably the rightful head of the Cheister family.
Even if it was her son, the Dowager Duchess wouldn’t have written such a response without consulting Raymond’s intentions.
Since Raymond himself had responded positively to the proposal, there was nothing to hinder it.
Moreover, Olivia, his only daughter whom he cherished dearly, was clearly smitten with the man.
Having fallen for him at first sight during her debutante ball and carrying that affection ever since, it seemed there could be no more perfect match.
This was evident when Olivia, who had been dazed for a while, suddenly stood up and let out a squeal.
“Enough, Olivia. What kind of behavior is that, so unrefined? If you are to become the lady of the Cheister household, you must gradually correct such childish actions.”
Though his words were a stern reprimand, his voice was infinitely soft and affectionate.
Olivia turned to her father, Marquis Constant, who showered her with boundless love, and threw herself into his arms.
Then she gently kissed his cheek.
“Father, you can’t imagine how grateful I am. To think… I’ll become his wife. It’s like a dream.”
Of course, if one were to nitpick, personal gain played a significant role, but there was no need to say that aloud.
As a father, his wish for his daughter’s happiness was, naturally, sincere.
Marquis Constant smiled brightly and gently patted Olivia’s back as she nestled in his arms.
* * *
Deborah knelt before the fireplace in the first-floor reception room, peering inside.
Though her tasks for the morning were, as usual, extremely demanding, the most urgent was cleaning out the ashes from the extinguished fireplace and polishing its metal parts.
Deborah held a metal shovel and carefully swept the black ashes with a small brush attached to it.
*Cough, cough.*
As the lingering, heavy scent of the dark ash pile wafted up, Deborah turned her head and let out a dry cough.
“Um, need some help?”
Startled by the sudden voice, Deborah, who had been coughing with her arm covering her nose and mouth, turned around.
A young man with dark brown hair stood there.
Dressed neatly in a navy jacket and a vest with horizontal stripes, he didn’t seem like one of the footmen commonly seen in the manor.
Though she hadn’t memorized the faces of all the manor’s employees, something about his demeanor suggested otherwise.
Deborah looked at the unfamiliar man offering help with a wary expression, and he scratched his head awkwardly.
“Are you… the new housemaid, by any chance?”
His words sounded as if he knew the faces of all 300 or so servants in Elfengrin.
After a moment’s hesitation, Deborah nodded, and the man’s lips immediately curved into a smile.
“I heard about you. They say the new housemaid caused quite a memorable incident.”
Realizing his gaze was fixed on her, he seemed to catch himself and spoke again.
“I got caught up asking questions and forgot to introduce myself. I’m Robin, Duke Cheister’s aide. Also, the grandson of Greig, the butler of Elfengrin.”
“Oh…”
His introduction suddenly made his attire make sense.
Immediately after, Deborah realized what he meant by the “memorable” incident, and her face flushed with embarrassment.
Lowering her head slightly, Deborah’s lips moved quietly.
“I’m… Deborah, the new housemaid.”
It was then.
The shovel and brush she was holding were swiftly taken from her hands.
Uh… Deborah stared blankly at the man who had snatched them from her.
But the man named Robin calmly knelt and skillfully swept the ashes from the fireplace.
“I-I’ll do it…”
Belatedly, Deborah reached out to take back the cleaning tools from his hands.
As her hand briefly overlapped with his, she quickly pulled back.
Robin, too, let out an awkward *ahem* cough.
“Well… I’ve done this so many times since I was a kid that I could do it blindfolded. So, just for today, I’ll help you out.”
Noticing her clumsiness, Robin grinned and began moving his hands diligently again.
Deborah had no choice but to stand there awkwardly, watching him.
After the man neatly cleared out the ashes, he picked up a brush from the cleaning box and applied graphite to it.
Tilting his head slightly, he began polishing the metal parts of the ceiling with swift *swish swish* motions and spoke again.
“I heard you had some trouble with Ludmilla a few days ago…”
At his casual remark, Deborah was quietly surprised by how far this man’s information network reached.
How had a minor squabble between maids reached the ears of someone who had only arrived a few days ago? She worried whether the incident had been exaggerated beyond her imagination.
Unaware of Deborah’s concerns, the man continued speaking.
“If possible, try to avoid clashing with Ludmilla. You probably already know, but she’s got a bit of a nasty streak… A lot of maids who stood up to her for speaking out ended up leaving because they couldn’t handle her.”
“……”
Deborah, listening quietly, nodded faintly.
Robin, who had been stealing glances while brushing, smiled brightly at her response.
“Just ignore her. It’s tough, but that’s the easiest way. But if it gets really hard, ask for help. Lady Charlotte or my grand—uh, Mr. Greig would be good, and if that’s difficult, you can come to me.”
Before she knew it, he had finished, setting down the brush and patting his chest confidently.
At his cheeky confidence, a smile unwittingly crept onto Deborah’s lips.
“Thank you.”
A bright smile bloomed on her pale face.
Robin let out an *ahem* cough, turned his head, and began tidying the cleaning tools.
For some reason, Deborah tilted her head curiously as she noticed his ears turning red.
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By Anna 💓
