# 94
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dismissal.
That name, like magic, led his bottom to the chair. Andrew Isaac, looking satisfied, took his hand off his shoulder and leisurely weaved among the vassals. Jesse looked at him with great pride.
Count Isaac was worried that the vassals' discontent with his youngest son might erupt. However, the boy knight was quick-witted and clever. He devised an exquisite plan to effectively carry out Ares's orders, keeping Grace at ease while also gaining the trust of the vassals.
The keen hearing honed at the wall of death eerily picked up the sound of large, wide strides.
Ahem ahem!
As the boy cleared his throat loudly, the vassals standing in line beside Grace immediately turned around. Even the vassal who had just handed Grace the documents did the same. He quickly gathered the papers and spoke.
“Thank you, Duchess!”
“What do you mean? I haven't said anything yet.”
Yes, just thank you!
The door opened the moment he hurriedly sat down. The gaze of a black beast, bringing with it a chill, turned toward Grace.
Grace was so dumbfounded that she absolutely couldn't help but say something.
“What on earth did you say to these people?”
The black beast laughed lazily.
“What are you talking about, Madam?”
At the affectionate address, the shoulders of the vassals hiding among the piles of documents trembled slightly. However, Ares, unconcerned with their reaction, reached out his hand toward Grace, who had been buried in the paperwork all morning.
"let's go."
“Where?”
It's time for a walk.
Since the day of their wedding, Ares never again asked her to call him by his name. He simply maintained a playful gaze and tone. Lightened by his boyish appearance—though, of course, no one but her thought so—Grace readily accepted his proposal.
As Grace stepped forward wearing the fur coat and gloves Jessie had brought, Ares extended his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When she instinctively placed her hand on his, his large, firm hand tightly intertwined with hers.
Grace would sometimes recall their first meeting, when she had kissed Ares without hesitation. Where on earth had such courage come from within her? Wasn't the saying "ignorance is bliss" perfectly apt?
“What are you thinking about so deeply, Madam?”
I wasn't thinking about anything.
"No, that's not it. I saw your brow furrowed."
“Tell me. Just how on earth did you threaten the vassals?”
“Threatening? That’s going too far.”
“I’m sorry. But I don’t think they would have spoken to me nicely.”
You said you were sorry, and now you're adding even harsher words?
As Grace chuckled, Ares responded by puffing out his chest.
The answer is within me, so I just told you to think a little more.
You appointed Sir Andrew as a watchman.
"Andrew is just doing his job. Protecting the Duchess."
As Grace laughed a little louder, Ares smiled back at her.
As the ladies-in-waiting and maids watching the two of them laughed quietly, Eliza, who was smoking a cigarette on the sofa by the window, looked out the window. A picture-perfect couple was strolling through the garden where the snow was melting, hand in hand.
“Madam, you wouldn’t know. How terrifying a face His Excellency usually makes.”
As a brave maid muttered, Eliza scolded her in a voice mixed with laughter.
“Then, is it right to look at your wife with such a fierce, sharp face?”
“That may be true, Madam... but it’s a fact that you change your mind like the flip of a hand, isn’t it?”
As Mrs. Rexton whispered in a coquettish voice, Eliza exhaled tobacco smoke and spoke to the ladies-in-waiting and maids in a stern voice.
“Don’t dare peek, and each of you do your own thing.”
As the ladies-in-waiting and maids hurriedly moved away from the window in surprise, Eliza extinguished her tobacco. As they fled as fast as rabbits, Eliza asked Mrs. Isaac, who was standing beside her.
“When will we be able to leave for the capital?”
They say the snow-melting work will be finished sometime this week. If it doesn't snow any more, wouldn't we be able to leave early next week?
“We’ll have to leave next week to make it to the gladiatorial festival on time. Count Isaac and Baron Rexton are going to have a tough time once we’re gone.”
It is something that ought to be done.
Eliza patted her arm affectionately, then quietly turned her head toward the window. Ares's face was visible in the distance. He was laughing playfully, as if finding something amusing, and repeatedly turned back to look at Grace after taking a step. Watching this scene with her eyes narrowed, Eliza asked in a low voice.
“What did the Duke order?”
It seemed like they were ordering some kind of doll. I don't know exactly what it is, but it looks like it will take some time, so I heard they instructed that it be delivered to the capital mansion.
"doll?"
Eliza muttered in disbelief, then burst into laughter. Then she muttered softly enough for only Mrs. Isaac to hear.
It’s a bit over the top, but… it’s not bad.
* * *
I’ve never seen such a fuss in my life.
As Eliza muttered in a tone that was dumbfounding the more she thought about it, Mrs. Isaac and Mrs. Rexton, who were sitting opposite her, laughed quietly.
"Don't you think it's absurd?"
At Eliza's question, Jesse, who was sitting beside her, hesitated with an awkward expression, unable to decide what to do.
Eliza, clicking her tongue, flung open the carriage window and shouted loudly for the whole world to hear.
“Why on earth is the Duchess’s lady-in-waiting riding in my carriage, especially since she’s not even there to attend to me! With your huge frame, why insist on getting in that carriage, even pushing the lady-in-waiting aside?!”
Grace stealthily raised her eyes at the man sitting on the opposite side, startled by the shrill rebuke of an old woman piercing through the carriage.
“Why, do you need something?”
Didn't you hear?
“Are you cold? Do you want more fur?”
No, you're pretending not to hear.
Eliza's premise that "I am not going to serve you" is actually wrong.
“No. There’s nowhere else to cover it.”
Grace muttered as she looked at the furs covering her entire body, and Ares chuckled at the sight of Grace with only her face peeking out from the huge pile of furs.
Grace's gaze was drawn to him by a laugh that sounded like it was scratching the back of her neck.
One of the things I had recently learned was that he had a habit of tilting his head and closing his eyes when he smiled. Grace moved her hand to pull something out from the pile of furs tightly filling the space in front of her. Then, after pushing all sorts of fur blankets aside little by little, she opened a book she had brought.
However, I couldn't read a single word.
This was because Ares sat up and reached out his arms the moment the fur slipped down. He picked up the fur Grace had pushed aside and piled it back up neatly over her.
Grace stopped him with a serious expression.
It's really not cold. If it gets cold, I'll cover myself.
Then Ares raised his eyebrows, straightened his upper body, and leaned his back against the wall of the carriage.
Grace, with her pale and innocent face, stared directly at him with her deep green eyes. This young lady, who had become his wife at least in name, must have absolutely no idea why she was trying to attend to him in this manner.
Ares stared with a dissatisfied look at the thick book in Grace's hand. And it wasn't even the only book. There were easily ten more books of that exact thickness.
What this meant was that unless I struck up a conversation like, "What do you want to eat? Are you cold? Shall I get you some warm water?", she wouldn't even look back at me once throughout this entire journey.
The events of that day at the chapel left him with an unhealed scar. Perhaps that scar will remain somewhere inside him, never to be erased.
Ares was curious.
That day, that incident—whether it could be a trace for you as well.
However, I couldn't bring myself to ask. It felt like the moment I did, the relationship that had been maintained, however playfully, would shatter.
Grace quietly lowered her eyes. Following her gaze, Ares's eyes also drifted downward.
I wonder how long I had been so absorbed in the book. It was when I lifted it up slightly, feeling uncomfortable in the position of looking only downwards.
Raise your elbow higher.
As I reflexively raised my arm while holding the book, a cushion slid in between my knee and elbow.
It's just right, isn't it?
Ares grinned as their eyes met.
If that position becomes uncomfortable, lie down and look. Just tell me. I can create a comfortable position for you.
What kind of servant-like words are these!
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of becoming a full-time attendant.”
“A servant? I’ve never thought of that!”
“No, it was written all over your face. Like, ‘Surely being a servant isn’t your true calling, is it?’”
Grace, who had opened her eyes wide, burst into a hollow laugh. It was clearly a hollow laugh at first, but the laughter would not subside for a long time.
Ares looked at Grace, who was smiling while covering her face with her palm. His gaze fell on the ring finger of her left hand. A gold ring with a small emerald set in it sparkled on the slender finger.
His lips curled up to one side.
But, I don't think it's completely unsuitable for my aptitude.
"dismissal!!"
Hehe.