# 21
**Chapter Twenty-One**
Ella tasted the metallic taste of blood and admitted:
She was unlucky. It was a mistake.
She knew that Diana, who had previously been unable to hide her feelings, had changed somewhat.
But she didn't think Diana's ability to handle herself under pressure would change either. People don't change that easily.
Even if Diana had changed, she was still a potential killer.
It was clear whose words people would believe more.
Ella thought it would be easy to paint Diana as the villain in everyone's mind and expel her from high society.
But when did Harold Wesen suddenly appear and see everything? The balcony was not a place people frequented, and she made sure it was empty before Diana arrived.
No, the problem wasn't Harold Wesen. The real problem was the other witness—Kayden.
'Why am I always unlucky?'
Kayden should have been staring at Diana, not me!
Ella didn't bother to think about her actions. She just felt aggrieved, pitying herself.
“Kayden, I know I was wrong.”
But more than her frustration, she thought correcting Kayden's misunderstanding was more important. She chose her words carefully and began to speak.
“…But Diana was so scary. I tried so hard to hide it, to stay calm, but every time I saw her, it got worse. I remembered the way she smiled when I was poisoned and collapsed...”
She made her face upset.
"I have nightmares every night. It was very difficult and stressful. Vincent told me that if I was suffering like this, I should do as he said, so I followed his advice without really thinking. But I regret it now. I mean it."
Her deer-like eyes filled with tears and fell down her chin. Ella knew exactly how strong her tear-covered face was. She had seen countless times how people reacted when she cried.
"I want to apologize to Diana, to the Duchess. Oh. I shouldn't become that kind of person just because I was hurt."
“…”
“Kayden, do you hate me now?”
Seeing her face wet with tears, Kaiden clenched his fists. He was shocked to see a different side of Ella today. Even though he had witnessed Diana bullying Ella many times, he felt guilty for being cruel to her now.
“No, I don’t hate you.”
"truly?" I sighed.
Kayden moved to her side, pulled her into a comforting embrace, and gently soothed her.
"I went too far. I'm sorry. Let's go apologize together next time."
Ella leaned on his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt.
He gave up asking about the conversation with Diana that he couldn't hear because her voice was too low.
'Maybe it wasn't anything important.'
He decided to trust the Ella he knew, but he couldn't get rid of the tightness in his chest. He couldn't understand this feeling, but he decided to let it go and closed his eyes.
‘Ella is the perfect choice for my future duchess… She…’
He couldn't finish the idea.
He couldn't complete his idea. Suddenly, Diana's calm during the crisis flashed through his mind. She seemed like a shadow, always following him, but now she had changed, he could still smell Harold's scent lingering in her.
Kayden clenched his jaw.
'Nothing has changed.'
It had to be so.
'My choice is not wrong.'
It had to be so.
A few days after the party, a letter arrived from Mrs. Mayer.
The first was an apology for the uproar at the event, accompanied by a small gift. After replying that everything was fine, a second message followed, inviting me to tea—just the two of us.
‘Wow!’
I rushed to share the good news with Harold. Happiness doubles when you share, right?
“Harold, look at this!”
Harold, who was busy with work, took a look at the letter I gave him and laughed.
“You ran here just to show me this?”
“Isn't this wonderful?”
“Okay...”
What? Am I the only one excited?
Thanks to Harold, I had managed to avoid falling into Ella and Vincent's trap, but I had half given up on improving my relationship with Mrs. Mair, who hated fuss. But a personal meeting?
That was something not even the heroine, Ella, had achieved.
“Nervous?”
"Yes."
“But excited too?”
“Wow, do you know me that well?”
My heart was racing with a mixture of excitement and tension. I felt like dopamine was flowing through me.
“It's all written on your face.”
At Harold's soothing tone, I touched my face. Was that that clear? I pinched my cheeks and played with my mouth, trying to see if I was smiling too much.
Yes, I'm smiling. But I smile a lot anyway, don't I?
At that moment, Harold, who was looking at me, put down his pen. He leaned over the desk, pinched my cheek, and pulled it gently.
"Don't make such a silly face in front of others. And no silly behavior either."
“I don't! I only act like this in front of you.”
“Good. Keep it up.”
Harold patted my cheek twice with a satisfied expression and sat back down.
At that moment, there was a loud 'thud' as a pile of documents fell behind us.
“Evan?”
Harold's assistant, Evan, stood frozen, staring at us with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“D-Duke, your face...”
“What about my face?”
“Ah, nothing. I-I must have made a mistake...”
Ivan looked like he was about to faint as he frantically cleaned his glasses. Is he sick or something?
“Evan, if you don’t feel well, I can heal you.”
Since Evan was one of the few who knew my secret, the offer came naturally. But he paled even more, looking behind me as if he had seen a ghost.
"N-No! I'm perfectly fine! S-I'll arrange these documents and come back later!"
...But he doesn't look good at all.
I turned to Harold and muttered, “Are you sure we can leave it like this?”
"Of course. He's a strong man. He was completely healthy when he had his scan last week."
Harold extended his hand to me.
“Instead of worrying about that guy, why don't you worry about me? I think I'm feeling a little unwell.”
"truly?"
Thinking about it, his expression actually looked tense! I grabbed his hand without hesitation.
Holy energy flowed from my skin to his.
“I feel better now.”
Only then did the stiffness in Harold's facial muscles ease.
The day of the tea invitation has arrived.
When I got out of the carriage, I was greeted by Mrs. Mayer, her pink-gray hair sparkling in the light.
My eyes widened in astonishment; I didn't expect her to come in person to greet me.
“Thank you for visiting us again, Duchess.”
“I'm the one who should thank you for the invitation.”
I followed her lead, walking through the greenhouse, admiring the plants along the way.
In the middle of the greenhouse there was a tea table with carefully arranged chairs. Seeing us, the servants pulled out the chairs. A maid poured fresh tea into tea cups.
“Smells great.”
“This tea was recently imported. It is made from flowers that bloom once every three years.”
I looked up from the pink tea in the cup and looked at Mrs. Meyer. Now that I think about it...
“The color of tea is as beautiful as your hair, Mrs. Mayer.”
"Gosh, I'm not the only one with pink hair, am I? In fact, compared to my greyish locks, your hair is really gorgeous, Duchess."
At her words, I glanced at my hair flowing over my shoulders.
Is this correct?
At that moment, a servant entered the greenhouse, pushing a cart. The once empty table was soon filled with freshly baked desserts.
“Do you mind if we pray before continuing tea time?”
“Not at all, go ahead.”
I readily agreed to her request.
As mentioned in the novel, Mrs. Mayer was known to be a devout follower of her faith. She visited the temple every week to pray and devoted herself to various charitable activities despite her advanced age. Moreover, the Marchioness of Mayer, with its vast agricultural lands, supplied the temple with flour.
“Wait a minute.”
...flour?
'Could it have been the bread that saved me from starvation on the side of the road back then...?'
I gasped, turning my astonished gaze to Mrs. Mayer, who was now in prayer.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Duchess?”
“Oh, I just remembered the stories about your tireless volunteer work at the temple. I personally am very interested in volunteering, so I really admire you, Mrs. Mayer.”
I swallowed the admission that I had survived ten days on bread made from donated grains, for fear it would seem pathetic.
“I have done nothing to deserve such respect,” she replied modestly.
What do you mean, nothing to admire?
“I continued my volunteer work just to remember my younger sister.”
Her younger sister? I've never heard anything about that before. Her expression held a faint sadness. Could she have passed away? I felt an overwhelming feeling that I might have made an embarrassing mistake.
“It's been a long time, so you won't know about it, Duchess,” she said, holding up the tea cup elegantly.
“My sister ran away before I became a Marchioness. It was an emotional escape.”
Mrs. Mayer looked at me intently.
“If my sister lived well after marrying that common knight, she might now have grandchildren around your age, Duchess.”