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Chapter 75: A New Member

The Grand Duchess of Keyston had invited Aracila to join her private art circle.

When Iris heard the news, she was overjoyed and immediately showered her sister with praise.

“My goodness, Ari. You really did it! To catch Her Grace’s eye in a single meeting—that’s incredible!”

The Grand Duchess’s salon welcomed everyone from dignified middle-aged ladies to young noblewomen. Being part of it wasn’t just an honor—it was a golden opportunity to build influence and connections.

All the anxious worry Iris had harbored, fearing Aracila might make a misstep, had proven needless. Her sister had returned with an outstanding result.

At this rate, she might even overtake Nora and expand her influence within the social scene in record time.

Pleased and a little parched from all the excitement, Iris took a sip of tea. Meanwhile, Aracila’s eyes drifted toward her sister’s face—lightly made-up, dressed neatly in elegant daywear.

“Were you out somewhere?”

“…Huh?”

Aracila’s question had been casual, without much thought. But Iris looked momentarily startled.

The truth was, she had just returned from her second meeting with Eric Roberts.

Much like their first encounter, the time spent with him had been easy and comfortable. Yet even now, she still felt no romantic spark—no desire for marriage.

Iris hadn’t yet told Aracila that their mother had arranged the introductions. So she deflected with a vague excuse.

“Oh, I just met up with a friend for a bit.”

Her response felt oddly stiff, and Aracila’s eyes narrowed slightly. She suddenly recalled the subtle shadow that had crossed her sister’s face not long ago.

“Is something going on with you?”

“What? No. Nothing at all.”

“Really? If something’s bothering you, just tell me. I’ll help you.”

The earnestness in her voice brought a faint smile to Iris’s lips—touched by her sister’s concern.

But for Iris, who had always carried the weight of being the eldest, leaning on her younger sister was more difficult than almost anything else.

As she distractedly traced the rim of her teacup with her thumb, she asked an unexpected question.

“Hey, Ari… are you happy, being married?”

“That’s sudden.”

Aracila tilted her head at the abrupt question—but seeing the serious look on Iris’s face, she matched the tone.

“Am I happy in my marriage to Damian?”

Since it wasn’t a real marriage, she honestly wasn’t sure. But ever since things had started to improve between them, life had certainly become easier.

I guess I’ve learned a few things too, so it’s not all bad.

She’d learned that living with someone else wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d feared—and that it was wrong to judge someone solely by her old prejudices.

Taking all that into account, Aracila found her answer.

“It’s not bad. Damian and I have similar lifestyles, and we both respect each other. So things go smoothly, and that’s nice.”

“…I see.”

Iris nodded, her face pensive, as if the answer had stirred a deeper thought. Aracila gave her a puzzled look.

“Are you really sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Of course. Nothing at all.”

Iris waved her hand with a smile, brushing the concern aside. But Aracila still felt uneasy.

She knew all too well that her sister had a tendency to endure things quietly on her own.

“If something ever does happen, promise me you’ll talk to me. Okay?”

“Yes, yes, I promise.”

Iris laughed lightly, her face bright again—almost as if the shadow had never been there at all.

***

The Grand Duchess of Keyston’s art circle met every Tuesday.

Naturally, the gathering was held at her residence in the capital—a grand, old-fashioned mansion gifted to her by her father during her days as a princess. Situated in the very heart of the city, the house’s majestic façade exuded both age and authority.

Inside the mansion’s lush conservatory garden, the Grand Duchess gathered all her members and formally introduced Aracila.

“Let me make some introductions. This is Duchess Vandemir, our newest addition to the circle.”

“Hello. I’m Aracila Vandemir.”

As Aracila bowed gracefully, the Grand Duchess affectionately placed a hand on her shoulder.

“She’s a young woman, yes—but our minds are incredibly in tune. I felt I simply had to introduce her to all of you. She’s so pure and so astute. I do hope you’ll all become close.”

Then, with clear intent, the Grand Duchess seated Aracila right next to her.

This, paired with her overt praise, left no room for misunderstanding. Her actions made it obvious to everyone: Aracila was under her protection. No one was to show her hostility or treat her coldly—she was to be welcomed, and welcomed well.

Thanks to this, Aracila was able to integrate smoothly with the others from her very first day. The members of the salon, seeing how openly the Grand Duchess favored her, approached her with kindness and interest.

Later, when the group split into smaller circles for conversation, the younger noblewomen were subtly gathered to one side—clearly arranged by the Grand Duchess to give Aracila an opportunity to form closer connections with her peers.

On the opposite side of the conservatory, a delicate silence hung over the group.

Everyone there had heard of Aracila.

Before her marriage, she had been known as an eccentric mage who swore off marriage altogether. Afterward, she became the subject of strange and persistent rumors. She was infamous, one way or another.

As a result, many in society viewed her through a tainted lens.

But the women gathered here today were different.

Rather than judging her, they regarded her with curiosity. She had always walked a different path from other young ladies—and now, even as a married woman, she continued to defy expectations. That made her interesting.

There was perhaps a trace of admiration in their gazes as well.

Aracila, at least outwardly, was beautiful, accomplished, and free-spirited—living as she pleased, unbound by convention.

Many of them had long wanted to speak with her, but she rarely attended social gatherings, making that nearly impossible.

So her arrival today, as an official new member, was genuinely welcomed. And since most of them had no connection to Nora’s circle, there was little to hold them back.

Still, now that they were face-to-face, something about Aracila’s presence made them hesitate. There was an unspoken aura about her—an undefinable intensity—that made her hard to approach.

Unaware of their internal struggle, Aracila sat lost in her own thoughts.

‘I studied hard just for today.’

With Iris’s help, she had memorized all the current trends—popular hats and dresses, fashionable hobbies, the latest society gossip—anything that might help her connect with her peers.

In the past, she would’ve simply stared blankly if someone brought up such topics. Now, she was prepared to engage in lively conversation. All she needed was for someone to break the ice.

If it came to it, she was ready to lead the conversation herself.

Fortunately, one of the young ladies finally spoke up, her voice cautious.

“Um, Duchess Vandemir…”

“Yes?”

“Where did you get that hat, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Aracila reflexively touched the brim of her hat.

While most fashionable hats these days featured narrow brims, hers had a wide brim instead. She hadn’t chosen it to match the trends—but to suit the artistic ambiance of the gathering.

“I believe I bought it at Tara’s Atelier.”

She answered the question simply and was about to add, ‘Lately, I hear narrower brims are in fashion,’ when something unexpected happened.

“Oh, are they still selling it? I’d love to buy one myself.”

Aracila, who had been preparing to launch into a detailed explanation of brim widths like a walking encyclopedia, clamped her mouth shut, then slowly opened it again.

“I’m not sure. I bought it a few years ago, so it may no longer be available.”

“Oh no, really? That’s a shame…”

The lady’s disappointment was sincere. Aracila decided to try again—this time, steering the conversation back to something she’d prepared.

“Speaking of fashion, I’ve noticed ribbon-shaped accessories are really—”

“Could I ask where your dress is from, as well?”

Another noblewoman seized the moment, cutting in with a question of her own. Aracila glanced down at her dress and replied—

“This is from Tara’s Atelier as well. I’m a regular there, so I usually shop from them.”

“Ah, so Tara’s Atelier is your go-to shop! I’ll have to remember that.”

From that moment on, Aracila barely had a chance to bring up any of the topics she had prepared. The questions came pouring in one after another.

Beyond her fashion choices, the others began to ask—with careful politeness—about her relationship with Damian.

“How did Lord Vandemir propose to you?”

“I was the one who proposed first. After that, Damian took the lead and pursued things more seriously.”

“What was it about him that made you fall for him?”

“His face, and the way he accepted me exactly as I am.”

“What was your first meeting like?”

“We were blunt and direct from the start. We laid everything on the table.”

Their laughter bubbled over like students listening to a teacher’s first-love story. Aracila’s cool, no-nonsense way of answering every question only made her seem more refreshing and fun to be around.

Then one of the young ladies sighed softly and spoke.

“I’m jealous that your husband expresses affection so openly. I’m honestly not sure my fiancé really loves me. We’ve known each other since childhood, and I think he just takes me for granted.”

The speaker was Lady Harriet, the social centerpiece of the younger group. The other ladies and noblewomen offered comfort in various ways.

That things would improve after marriage. That a man’s true home would always be with his wife. That maybe she ought to call off the engagement altogether.

Listening quietly for a time, Aracila could no longer hold back and spoke her mind.

“Then why not change your fiancé to someone who does love you? There are so many men in the world—you don’t need to cling to just one.”

Her bold advice sent a ripple through the circle.

Everyone had thought it, but no one had dared to say it out loud. The bluntness startled them.

“But I don’t want to break up with Sir Shark. Maybe if I just try harder, he’ll start to value me more.”

“When it comes to relationships—romantic or otherwise—clinging to someone like your life depends on it will only push them away faster.”

“I-I see…”

Lady Harriet’s expression turned downcast, her eyes wavering.

“Then… what should I do?”

“Show him that you’re perfectly fine without him. Groveling only makes him respect you less. He’ll never realize your worth that way.”

“But… what if he ends up leaving me?”

“Then you break up and find someone new. It’s not the end of the world. It’s far better than marrying, suffering, and ending up divorced.”

While broken engagements weren’t unheard of among nobles, they still left a far greater stain on women than on men.

Harriet knew that well. That’s what fueled her anxiety.

And yet, hearing Aracila speak with such conviction strangely comforted her. It gave her courage—something she hadn’t known she needed.

“…I think you’re right. I’ll give it a try.”

When Lady Harriet spoke with new resolve, Aracila nodded. For someone who had already agreed to divorce in a few years, she couldn’t understand why breaking off an engagement was seen as such a big deal.

***

When the gathering ended, and they waited for their carriages, Aracila sought out the young lady who had first spoken to her—the one who had asked about her hat.

“My lady, here. Take this.”

“…Pardon?”

Aracila removed her hat and gently placed it atop the other girl’s head.

The girl stared at her, eyes wide in disbelief.

“But… why?”

“I doubt they still sell this style at Tara’s Atelier. So if you’d like it, please take mine. I’ve worn it cleanly—there should be no issue.”

“B-but it suits you so well… I’m not sure I could accept it…”

The young lady hesitated, fingers brushing the brim of the hat as if unsure whether to keep it.

Aracila gently tapped the brim with her finger and smiled.

“It suits you wonderfully too.”

“…Ah…”

“I’ll see you at the next meeting.”