Chapter 42

“Madam, you have another bruise here. How do you keep getting these bruises?” Jena’s nimble fingers adeptly fastened the buttons of Lariana’s dress, while her concerned eyes were fixated on the vivid, dark red bruise peeking through the delicate chemise.

“Apparently I bumped into something,” Lariana replied, her voice tinged with a hint of evasion, deliberately evading Jena’s penetrating gaze.

It was likely her mother-in-law’s doing, but Lariana pretended not to know and avoided eye contact.

“But I am always by your side, Madam. If you were to bump into something, I would surely be aware,” Jena persisted, her tone laced with worry.

“Yesterday, when I was having tea time with Mother, I tripped and hit my leg on the table.”

“You hit your leg on the table, Madam?”

“Yes. Can you get the ointment Mother gave me from the drawer under the vanity? I need to use it.”

Jena’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her doubts lingering in the air. Nonetheless, she took the ointment from a small brass container within the vanity drawer. With gentle strokes, she applied the ointment to Lariana’s bruise.

The ointment had been a personal gift from Marcella, given not long ago. On the day Lariana received the ointment, she endured hours of berating in Marcella’s bedroom. As she stood there, enduring the cacophony of loud shouts and piercing screams, Lariana felt on the brink of collapse. In the midst of her spinning head and clouded mind, an object hurtled towards her.

“Ouch!”

Marcella’s small brass container struck Lariana’s head before falling to the ground. 

“It’s an ointment that soothes bruises and aids in healing,” Marcella explained with a vile expression. “You can see why I’m giving it to you, right? Apply it diligently. Don’t cause unnecessary disturbances among the maids.” 

The memory of Marcella’s sinister face lingered in Lariana’s mind as she lowered her head.

Her bedroom had grown cold, as the firewood had burned out completely. Jena continued examining Lariana’s exposed back while she reached out to adjust her dress.

“Jena, I feel cold. Could you please button it up quickly? I don’t have any particular plans for today, do I?”

Lariana swiftly changed the subject, hoping to divert Jena’s suspicions. She fastened the buttons on the back of her dress and spoke.

“Madam, you’ve been quite forgetful lately. Today is the day of the ball for the nation’s founding day.”

She didn’t want to attend the lackluster party without her husband, which might be why she had forgotten about it. Since the moon was full last night, perhaps they could attend the party together.

Shaking off pointless thoughts, Lariana made her way to the vanity. However, her vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over her, causing her to rely on Jena for support.

“Madam! Are you okay? Should I call Sir Damian?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“But…”

“You know Mother’s temperament, don’t you? If I call Damian again, she’ll…”

Lariana offered a weak smile and settled into the chair near the vanity.

In the mirror, a melancholic woman stared back at her. Less than a year had passed since their marriage, but all traces of her former vitality had vanished.

Lariana leaned against Jena, who stood by her side, as if accustomed to the routine. Jena took the comb and gently brushed through Lariana’s beautiful platinum blonde hair.

“I want to go to the Grand Temple.”

“Do you miss your family?”

Her family lay buried in the temple’s cemetery, but under Marcella’s watchful eyes, she had never been able to pay her respects. Lately, an intense yearning for her loved ones has taken hold of her.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice weary and worn. “I’m exhausted. I’m trying so hard, but it feels futile.”

Tears welled up in Lariana’s eyes, and they silently cascaded down her cheeks. Jena felt a pang of sympathy for her mistress, but she knew she could not allow herself to weep. She bit her lips until they bled.

“You’re doing well, Madam. You’re doing well. You can do it.”

Lariana gathered her courage once again.

* * *

In the end, Cain did not accompany them to the grand ball. The moon was full in the night sky, but his madness persisted, refusing to dissipate. Still, Lariana clung to a flicker of hope, believing that perhaps tomorrow Cain would come to her. With that thought in mind, she found the resolve to endure the day.

“Lari!”

The nation’s founding day ball was a gathering of the highest echelons of society, and it brought comfort to Lariana knowing that Marina would be by her side. 

Marina, with her fiery temperament, was not one to be easily looked down upon, providing Lariana with a shield against disdainful gazes.

Beside Marina stood Deryl, a short and plump Marquess exuding a gentle aura.

Marina, adorned in a golden gown with a delicate shawl made of rabbit fur, outshone everyone in the room. She always presented herself extravagantly and lavishly at such social events.

“It’s been a while, Duchess.”

“Yes. You both look lovely today.”

“Let’s drop the pretense between us, my dear,” Marina said, her voice filled with sincerity. “Let’s spend some time together. Husband, go and mingle with the gentlemen.”

“You always find me bothersome,” Deryl retorted, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words.

“Darling, go.”

Deryl’s gaze met Marina’s narrowed eyes, and realizing the futility of arguing further, he quickly made his exit.

Seizing the opportunity, Marina took hold of Lariana’s hand and settled into a chair by the ballroom wall. Despite the crowded space, Marina shamelessly occupied a seat, undeterred by the scarcity of available spaces.

“The Marquess seems to truly love you.”

“Well, he may not be good-looking, but he’s wealthy and fond of me. By the way, you’re all alone again?”

“The Duke is always busy.”

Lariana forced a smile mixed with melancholy. Marina, who was more upset than Lariana, covered her mouth with a fan and smiled. 

Being with Marina made her feel like she had returned to the time when she had no worries or troubles before her marriage.

“Lady Eschel, have you heard the latest news?” exclaimed one of the nearby young ladies suddenly, her voice intentionally loud to capture attention.

“I discovered it just before coming to the ball,” she added in a conspiratorial tone. “Lady Kaidel has called off her engagement.”

“Called it off so suddenly?”

As Lariana and Marina sat on the chair, two young ladies positioned themselves nearby, engaging in a loud conversation meant to catch the attention of those around them.

“I heard the same thing. Apparently, Lady Kaidel was engaged to someone else.”

“Yes. It seems that it was gossip from the Duchess Dowager of Delacroix.”

“What is it?”

“They said the Duke and Duchess were going to separate.”

Lariana sensed what would happen next. Hence, she gently touched Marina’s hand as if to warn her.

However, it was too late. Marina, driven by her fiery temper, had already risen to her feet and confronted the two girls directly.

“Well, well. Is this something you wanted us to hear?” Marina’s voice cut through the air, drawing the attention of those nearby.

“Oh my, I didn’t know Duchess Delacroix and Marchioness Deryl were here.”

Being seasoned figures in society, Lariana and Marina saw right through the lady’s act of initiating gossip despite her charming performance.

Marina’s excitement mounted, and her face flushed with anger as if preparing for a confrontation. Sensing her friend was about to explode in anger, Lariana let out a sigh, her gaze fixed on Marina’s imminent explosion. 

She gracefully moved closer, positioning herself in front of the two young ladies.

Lariana, with her fingers gently playing with the flowing strands of her lustrous platinum blonde hair, smiled affectionately and radiantly. Her appearance mirrored the captivating allure she had once wielded in high society before the weight of her marriage settled upon her shoulders.

“Lady Berphe, Lady Eschel, I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you know us?”

“Of course. Your mothers are regulars at the tea parties of the Duchess Dowager Delacroix.”

The two young ladies, momentarily taken aback, lower their guard, their discomfort momentarily forgotten. 

Lariana had long been the object of envy among the Martessen nobility. Despite the current strain between her and Duke Delacroix, to dreamy young girls, their relationship resembled a conflict straight out of a romance novel.

“You are indeed as charming as I’ve heard from others. And witty too.”

Lariana’s presence surpassed even that of the most celebrated opera singers, as all eyes were drawn to her. This unexpected moment in the spotlight thrilled the young ladies, who previously went unnoticed in society. 

“It seems there are still ridiculous rumors circulating about me,” Lariana continued, her tone tinged with amusement. “Lady Berphe, Lady Eschel, I appreciate your concern, but rest assured, my husband and I are getting along splendidly. While my health may hinder me from hosting social events immediately, I would be honored to invite both of you as a gesture of gratitude.”

With a graceful curtsy, Lariana stepped back, leaving the two young ladies in a state of astonishment, their hands clasped together in disbelief.

Just as the two were attempting to regain their composure and maintain a friendly facade toward Lariana, their path was abruptly blocked.

“You two are forbidden from entering the dressing room of the Deryl family from now on.”

Marina’s mother-in-law had long held a monopoly on jewelry, costumes, accessories, and even fabrics in Martessen. Without access to their dressing rooms, it would be impossible for young ladies to keep up with the ever-changing fashion trends of high society.

“M-Madam Deryl!” The two young ladies stuttered, taken aback by the sudden consequence of their actions. Their eagerness to achieve immediate goals had blinded them to potential repercussions.

“Do you only hear rumors about Duke Delacroix and Lady Kaidel? Have you not heard any rumors about me? Unlike the open-minded Duchess, I can be quite malicious and capricious,” Marina growled, exaggerating the effect like a feral beast. 

Lariana struggled to suppress her laughter, dismissing the two young ladies with a wave of her hand.

“The Duchess Dowager Delacroix is entering!”

Suddenly, the gatekeeper’s voice boomed through the banquet hall, causing Lariana to be startled. Lariana, instinctively seeking support, clung to her friend’s waist.

All eyes in the reception hall turned towards the entrance as the gatekeeper announced the arrival of another couple.

“Duke Delacroix and Lady Kaidel are entering!”

Mockery and derision filled the gazes directed at Lariana. Even the debutantes, freshly initiated into society, were aware of their story, leaving no doubt that the other nobles were equally informed. Read ahead here.