Opening the lid, Rebecca saw a pile of hacked-off golden hair.
Kanna’s reputation for getting things done was well-earned—she was exceptional.
Rebecca could already picture Zeppelin raging, taking it out on some innocent soul.
She felt a twinge of guilt for whoever would unjustly face his wrath.
If they were unlucky, they’d be beaten and cast out.
But the more Zeppelin’s hounds were replaced, the better it was for her, so she stayed silent.
Training a new hound took time.
Who knew if a less loyal one might side with her?
Rebecca tucked the box under the mattress.
“Oh, you’re awake?”
Kanna entered with a simple breakfast and a washbasin. Noticing the box was gone, she gave a subtle smile.
“You did well.”
“It was nothing.”
“You’ve proven yourself. I’m going out today, so please prepare.”
“What should I read for you?”
Rebecca took a bite of freshly baked bread and smiled brightly.
“My plainest clothes.”
…
In the sunlit dining room, the clatter of cutlery mingled with Zeppelin’s occasional angry outbursts as he slammed the table.
Zeppelin sat at the head, Rebecca opposite him.
Alicia sat to his left.
“Why am I treated like a guest?”
Alicia irritably sliced her small steak.
Despite being an official wife, the staff—and even Zeppelin—treated her like an outsider.
She should’ve taken Rebecca’s money and run when she had the chance.
“No, no. After all I went through to get here.”
Alicia glanced at Rebecca’s attire.
Unlike her usual elegance, she wore simple clothes, yet they suited her perfectly.
Gazing at Rebecca’s refined grace, Alicia chewed her nails.
“Another plate.”
Lately ravenous, Alicia polished off her steak and raised her hand.
Zeppelin frowned.
“Stop eating. You’re getting fat.”
“Pregnant women need to eat well, you know that.”
“You must not know, being a commoner, but nobles don’t eat so recklessly even when pregnant. Get fat, Alicia, and you’re out.”
“Count!”
“Quiet. You’re getting on my nerves. Look at Rebecca—so elegant. Learn from her. How many times do I have to say it? This is why commoners…”
It was just one steak. A countess, yet she couldn’t even eat freely.
And she was sick of the word “commoner.”
Face red, Alicia glared at Rebecca. She was the one pregnant, yet Rebecca’s position remained unshaken.
Ignoring her stare, Rebecca calmly set down her fork and dabbed her mouth. She approached Zeppelin gracefully.
Her silent, fluid movements infuriated Alicia further.
“Zeppelin, don’t be too hard on her. Alicia’s carrying your first child. Let her eat a bit more.”
Rebecca smiled sweetly, subtly touching his arm.
Zeppelin flinched, gazing at her hand.
“I felt guilty that we haven’t had a child. I just want Alicia’s baby to grow strong.”
Rebecca lowered her eyes.
Her trembling lashes always softened Zeppelin.
“Fine. Bring half a plate more.”
“I’m not eating!”
Alicia threw her knife. The empty plate clattered loudly.
It was humiliating.
She couldn’t understand. Wasn’t the mistress supposed to be cherished? Throwing tantrums suited the first wife.
Glaring bitterly at Rebecca, Alicia flinched as Zeppelin shot up, shouting.
“Alicia!”
Rebecca touched his arm again.
Her gentle touch made him pause.
“Don’t get too upset. Pregnancy makes women sensitive. By the way, since your hair’s like this, why not cut it short?”
“Cut my hair?”
“Yes. I’ve always thought short hair would suit you. It’d feel more… masculine.”
“If you say so…”
Rebecca gave a coy smile.
Zeppelin gazed at her, entranced.
She knew him well. He’d grant any request now.
“I’d like to go out today. May I?”
“Where?”
His brow furrowed at “go out.”
Rebecca, not missing a beat, massaged his arm.
“The sanctuary. I used to visit regularly, but I’ve been absent lately.”
“That’s why you’re dressed so plainly?”
“Yes. Do you not like it? I thought there was no need to dress up for it.”
“You’re right. Better to look like a beggar than attract some fool’s attention. Go ahead.”
Alicia stared, dumbfounded, at Rebecca’s every move.
Those were tricks she’d used as a barmaid to squeeze extra tips.
On Rebecca, they looked different, but the root was still low-class.
“I knew it. A fox pretending to be a bear.”
Rebecca left the dining room, not forgetting to flash Alicia a subtle smirk.
A loud crash of breaking dishes followed—Alicia’s doing.
Rebecca smiled triumphantly.
“Your turn to squirm, Zeppelin Devonshire.”
“Duke! Which robe do you like better, this or that? This brooch works, right?”
Croa laid out robes and accessories, addressing Yulian.
Without looking up from his book, Yulian replied curtly.
“She said to dress plainly. A simple robe with no adornments is fine.”
“Even so, the ducal house has standards. Since when do you listen to anyone so obediently? Falling for her threats so easily.”
“‘Her’? Watch your mouth. She’s to be the duchess.”
Croa gaped, speechless.
Since the banquet, Yulian acted as if Rebecca were already his duchess.
Yesterday, he’d scoured the entire ducal castle for his mother’s wedding veil.
“Hm. I should at least fix my hair.”
Yulian snapped his book shut, stood, and checked his hair in the mirror, combing it this way and that.
His evident enjoyment left Croa speechless. The duke, who’d never even had a first love, was so naive.
Meanwhile, Rebecca was a beautiful woman skilled at handling men.
Croa couldn’t shake the feeling that Yulian was being used.
“Was she that pretty? Enough to fall for such nonsense?”
Yulian, adjusting his hair, paused.
Looking at Croa, a mischievous smile spread across his face.
“What, jealous? I suspected your tastes, but sorry, Croa, I’m spoken for. Plus, isn’t our age gap a bit much?”
“What are you talking about?! I’m just a loyal servant worried about my naive duke! That Rebecca or whatever—she’s suspicious. She’s up to something.”
Yulian burst into laughter, staring at Croa.
“You really think I’m naive?”
Croa shrank under Yulian’s lofty gaze.
Unlike the frail, sensitive dukes of the past, Yulian was bold.
Even as a child, he was reserved, never crying or throwing tantrums.
He’d just purse his lips, glaring fiercely.
To Croa, he seemed like fragile glass, ready to shatter.
That’s why Croa always worried about him.
And why was he so wary of Rebecca?
“If she hurts the duke, I won’t let her off.”
…
Croa, technically, was Yulian’s distant relative.
But only those chosen by the goddess could bear the Johannes name.
Instead, Croa’s ancestors became stewards of the ducal house.
For generations, they’d sought a way to break the family’s curse.
Croa couldn’t believe a stranger like Rebecca, who’d likely never known hardship, could know the answer.
Her situation was pitiable, sure.
But why target our duke?
Croa wanted to stop this unsettling marriage contract, but Yulian’s resolve was unshakable.
“I’m coming too.”
“Why?”
“To be your clear-headed brain.”
“Are you saying you’re smarter than me? You’re getting on my nerves today, Croa.”
“You know your body acts before your head. Like when you broke that merchant’s tooth in a fit. I’m going for… Rebecca’s safety.”
Croa shamelessly donned a plain brown robe like Yulian’s.
Yulian clicked his tongue, but didn’t stop him.
He wouldn’t lay a hand on Rebecca, but Croa’s concern nagged at him.
“My nanny always told me to control my temper.”
Yulian’s silence permitted Croa to join.
Croa watched Yulian carefully apply wax to his hair in the mirror.
The robe would mess it up anyway—why the effort?
“Since it’s come to this, I’ll figure out what she’s really after.”
…
In the carriage to the sanctuary, Rebecca thought about the Johannes family curse.
Learning about it was pure chance.
In her past life, after escaping the Devonshire estate, she hid briefly at the sanctuary.
There, she met Croa.
