A Marriage Alliance for Revenge - Chapter 52

“Your Majesty.”

Eve, having fallen to the floor, called out to Gusto with a dazed expression.

“What on earth do you mean?”

Gusto’s thunderous voice filled the reception room.

Several young ladies flinched and stiffened at the sudden outburst.

“Marquess Hailey is waiting for you in the office.”

The steward bowed deeply, clearly trying not to provoke Gusto’s temper.

“I must take my leave.”

“Your Majesty!”

Eve called out loudly to Gusto.

Yet Gusto seemed too preoccupied to pay her any mind as he strode briskly from the reception room.

The sudden turn of events left the remaining young ladies in a state of agitation.

Their opinions varied regarding the emperor’s abrupt departure without a word.

“Perhaps… perhaps the Emperor has urgent matters to attend to.”

The young lady from the Hailey family sought to calm the flustered group.

“Lady Eve, please take my hand and rise.”

The Marquess’s daughter was remarkably composed, even attending to the still-dazed Lady Eve.

Eve gazed blankly at the Marquess’s hand before finally taking it and rising to her feet.

However, her gaze remained fixed on the door through which Gusto had exited.

“If the Duchess Viterpan permits, I would like to tidy up the room.”

‘Quite clever, isn’t she?’

Briella studied the Lady’s expression in response to her request.

Lady Hailey’s shrewdness seemed to reflect that of her father, Marquess Hailey.

“Since it is a rare occasion created by the Emperor, is it truly necessary?”

At Briella’s words, the young ladies exchanged glances, each wearing expressions of regret.

“However…”

Lady Hailey gazed at Eve.

Seated on the sofa, Eve still appeared to be in a daze.

“Lady Eve, shall we rise?”

At Briella’s call, a spark returned to Eve’s eyes.

“Ah! Yes.”

Eve hurriedly brushed herself off and stood, making her way outside, disregarding the other young ladies.

A few of them frowned or bit their lips at her behavior.

“I too shall take my leave. Lady Hailey, would you kindly handle the tidying up?”

“Yes, I will.”

Briella rose from her seat.

In the meantime, Eve had vanished without a trace.

The sun still hung in the sky outside.

“Perhaps I should return to Lindera as well.”

At the sounds of laughter emanating from the reception room, Briella found herself shrugging involuntarily.

Upon reflection, she realized she had no memories of sharing camaraderie with her peers.

‘Have I ever laughed while enjoying treats with a peaceful heart?’

No such recollection surfaced in her mind.

The only individuals around her seemed intent on exploiting her in some manner.

Even her father had driven her to the brink of death when her utility waned.

“There you are.”

“Yes, Duchess.”

A passing maid hurried over at Briella’s call, bowing her head. 

“Go to the kitchen and prepare some refreshments. About thirty servings? No, a hundred would be better.” 

“Pardon?” 

The maid looked up with a bewildered expression at Briella’s sudden request. 

“Make sure it’s sandwiches loaded with meat. They’re for the knights, not the ladies. Ensure there’s plenty.” 

“Duchess?” 

“Are there any snacks left inside?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Then go find out and let me know. I’ll be in the greenhouse.” 

“Yes, understood.” 

With that, the maid dashed off to the kitchen. 

It was an impulsive decision. 

If the ill-tempered steward of the Rose Palace were to learn of this, he might scorn Briella. 

But at this moment, she found herself unconcerned. 

In fact, she hoped the arrogant steward would appear and insult her; such an encounter would serve as an opportunity to gain even more. 

Yet, that scenario did not unfold. 

“Duchess, the preparations in the kitchen are complete.” 

“Is that so?” 

Briella, who had secretly wished for the steward’s appearance, turned around. 

“Yes.” 

The maid’s face was flushed, likely from her hurried movements. 

“Prepare the carriage.” 

“Yes, of course.” 

The carriage was soon ready. Three additional carriages followed behind Briella’s as she set out.

“Where shall I take you?” 

“To the imperial stables.” 

“Pardon? Er, very well.” 

The coachman hesitated momentarily at Briella’s command before promptly driving the carriage forward. 

‘There’s quite a lot.’ 

With a quiet sigh, Briella surveyed the abundance of food filling the carriage. 

In addition to the sandwiches she had mentioned, there were sweet macarons and cakes. 

The delicious aromas stirred her appetite. 

“There are no issues with the hay, and the horses are all in good health.” 

The current steward of the imperial stables was under immense pressure. 

Frequent visits from high-ranking officials lately meant he could not afford to slack off for even a moment. 

Moreover, there was Lucas. 

Unlike other nobles who merely sent their subordinates to receive reports, Lucas visited the stables personally. 

“Surely no suspicious individuals have been coming and going?” 

“Given that the Duke’s knights are guarding around the clock, that seems unlikely.” 

Indeed, the knights had suddenly appeared one day, surrounding the stables and leaving no room for mischief. 

“Duke, there is a visitor.” 

“A visitor?” 

Another stable steward bowed respectfully as he reported to Lucas. 

“Yes.” 

The elderly steward, reporting to Lucas, cast a sidelong glance, straining to listen to the commotion outside. 

Lucas exited the stables with brisk steps.

“Briella?” 

“Welcome, Your Grace.” 

Briella raised her hand and waved excitedly at Lucas. 

At Lucas’s command, the hay for the horses was being thoroughly inspected by Baron, ensuring no poison had been mixed in. 

“Lucas.” 

With her cheeks flushed red from the winter chill, Briella smiled shyly. 

“What brings you here?” 

“I came to have lunch together.” 

“Pardon?” 

From a distance, the coachman and stable hands, sniffing the air, cast curious glances at Briella and Lucas. 

“That’s an incredible amount of food!” 

Baron rummaged through the basket with the enthusiasm of a playful puppy. 

“We should make sure to set aside our share.” 

Briella chuckled at Baron’s antics. 

“That seems wise.” 

In response to Briella’s jest, Lucas replied seriously, then stepped into the carriage and grasped two large baskets. 

“Baron.” 

“Yes, Your Grace.” 

“Share the food not only with the knights but also with everyone working in the stables.” 

“Understood.” 

Cheers erupted from the assembled crowd at Lucas’s declaration. 

“There aren’t many places to eat nearby, and we’ll need to walk a bit.” 

“That’s alright.” 

Lucas was more familiar with the palace grounds than anyone else. 

With baskets in hand, he began to stride forward.

It was not long after entering the narrow path that they arrived at the greenhouse. 

“What is this place?” 

“It’s a greenhouse created to cultivate the flowers used within the imperial palace.” 

It felt distinctly different from the greenhouse attached to the palace. 

As they opened the door and stepped inside, a wave of warm air enveloped them. 

Venturing further in, a rough-hewn wooden table and chairs came into view. 

“This is a place where the gardeners who work in the stables and the greenhouse can rest for a moment. Winter is a harsh season for them as well.” 

Lucas placed the baskets on the sturdy table made from cut timber. 

The chairs too were simply carved from wood. 

“I see.” 

Just as Briella was about to sit, she paused. 

“Wait a moment.” 

“Yes?” 

Briella’s eyes widened in surprise as she halted her movement. 

Lucas removed his cloak, folded it neatly, and laid it atop the chair she was about to occupy. 

“It’s just a piece of cut wood; it wouldn’t be comfortable for a lady to sit on.” 

“There’s no need for this.” 

Briella gazed down at the cloak resting on the chair, her expression a mix of emotions that was difficult to define. 

“I can’t do something I want to do?” 

“This is excessive.” 

As Briella sat with her eyes lowered, she quietly regarded Lucas, who stood looking down at her. 

“…” 

“Lucas?” 

“Ah!”

Lucas shook his head, as if awakening from a reverie, and roughly tousled his hair before flopping down onto the chair. 

“I must apologize for my sudden visit.” 

“No, it’s not that. It merely stirred old memories.” 

A bittersweet smile played on Lucas’s lips. 

Briella silently retrieved food from the basket. 

Juicy sandwiches and warm tea, accompanied by colorful fruits and snacks, soon transformed the rustic wooden table into a bountiful lunch spread. 

“Please, help yourself.” 

“…Aren’t you going to ask me?” 

“Is it something I need to know?” 

Briella’s deep emerald eyes fixed on Lucas, her gaze sharp and piercing in an enigmatic way. 

“I would appreciate your curiosity.” 

At his words, Briella lowered her head. 

“More than that, I would like to celebrate today’s events first.” 

She produced a bottle of wine from the basket. 

It was Bordeaux wine. 

“As you said.” 

Lucas accepted the wine and uncorked the bottle. 

“I hope the late dowry is to your liking.” 

At Briella’s remark, Lucas glanced at her before pouring the wine into his glass. 

“The dowry is quite intriguing.” 

As Lucas lifted his glass, Briella mirrored his action. 

The clear sound of their glasses clinking resonated throughout the greenhouse. 

“May I have a glass as well?”

Briella stiffened at the sudden voice that echoed in the air. 

“Welcome, Count Delevingne.” 

“I hope I did not startle you, Duchess.” 

“Just a little.” 

Count Delevingne found a vacant seat and settled in. 

“I needed a place to meet with the Duke away from the Emperor’s watchful eyes. This location comes highly recommended by the Duke.” 

“I see.” 

Briella nodded in understanding. 

“The Duchess inquires whether you are pleased with the dowry.” 

Lucas drained his glass of wine. 

“Very much so. The estate’s likely dancing with joy. Even Marquess Sergel is quite astonished.” 

“Ah! Is he perhaps the one behind this arrangement?” 

“Yes, Marquess Sergel took the initiative himself.” 

“Goodness, it hardly seems fitting for such a noble marquess to involve himself.” 

“Why not? He reveled in it while wearing a mask and shouting with delight.” 

Count Delevingne could not contain his laughter, choking with mirth. 

“What?” 

Briella recalled the stern Marquess Sergel she had seen at the cabin. 

That a man so rigidly principled would take the lead in such tomfoolery was hard to believe—had it not been for the Count, she would have dismissed it outright. 

“Then how did you come to know this?” 

Lucas, still chuckling with Count Delevingne, turned his gaze to Briella. 

“The quantity of Bordeaux wine was excessively large. It’s also around the time when the Emperor’s slush fund is likely to be in motion.” 

“And, pray tell, what does the Emperor spend his funds on?” 

“Intelligence.” 

“Pardon?”

Count Delevingne’s eyes widened. 

“Gathering information is an exceedingly costly endeavor, and it must be conducted in secrecy, making it impossible to openly utilize the imperial budget.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Have you forgotten how the late Emperor seized the throne?” 

“Ah!” 

Count Delevingne stroked his chin thoughtfully. 

“Moreover, the priesthood constantly questions Emperor Gusto’s legitimacy. As you know, the persecution from the priesthood has persisted since his ascension.” 

A nation born from legend, the significance of the priesthood in the Rhone Empire was beyond imagination. 

Thus, both the usurpation of the late Emperor and Gusto’s need for recognition from the nobility and the citizens of the Rhone Empire necessitated considerable effort. 

“Consider this: after the change in emperors, the Rhone Empire has faced continuous warfare both internally and externally. The nobility and the citizens were too preoccupied to concern themselves with the legitimacy of the throne.” 

“Then are you suggesting that the Emperor orchestrated all of this?” 

At Count Delevingne’s words, Briella slowly nodded. 

In fact, she had discovered this truth just days before her death. 

“He used the lives of others as tools for maintaining his power.” 

Lucas poured more wine into his glass. 

“Bitter.” 

Count Delevingne roughly rubbed his face with his hand. 

“It is vital to gradually sever ties with informants.” 

“And also satisfy one’s own desires?” 

“The more wealth, the better.” 

“Was the budget allocated to you, Duchess, insufficient?” 

“I hope not.” 

Briella cast a delicate glare.

Madame Blanc was the creator of the countless dresses owned by Briella. 

From trivial accessories to exquisite gowns, her collection rivaled even the extravagance of Eve Ferenna. 

“Ahem.” 

Count Delevingne coughed lightly to make his presence known between the two. 

“Let us toast first.” 

“Very well!” 

Count Delevingne lifted the bottle of wine. 

Briella raised her glass as well. 

“To the transformation from a couple of swindlers to a couple of thieves!” 

“Pardon?” 

At Lucas’s toast, Briella burst into laughter.