The Virtually Exiled Duke’s Daughter Is Troubled When Her Fiancé in a Neighboring Country Says, "I Will Never Love You" - Episode 27

“I’ll ask the head chef. You’re injured, so don’t push yourself. Just sit and rest.”

“Uh… ah…”

Deborah swiftly wrapped the dirt-covered chicken back in its cloth, picked it up, and left the stunned Shelly and Tom behind at the well as she headed toward the back entrance of the mansion.

The back entrance was right next to the kitchen, so Tom had likely been planning to deliver the order there anyway. When she knocked on the door, the apprentice cook, Peter, opened it with a sluggish “Yeah, yeah…” but then jumped back in shock at the sight before him.

“D-Deborah!?!”

“Oh, Peter. Perfect timing. Look, this got some dirt on it. But if we wash it, it should be fine to eat, right?”

“H-huh!? W-why!? H-huh!?” He stammered. “H-Head chef—!!”

Peter, overwhelmed by the unexpected situation, instantly panicked and ran to call the head chef, Vito. Vito arrived at the back entrance with wide eyes, his small pupils stretching as he took in the scene.

“What’s this? Are you up to something again, Deborah?”

“The butcher’s errand boy tripped and dropped the meat. It got dirt on it. But dirt can be washed off, so it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“…”

Vito’s mouth opened, then closed, then twisted into a strange shape before he suddenly burst into laughter.

“Ha! Ahahaha!! So now you’re running errands for the butcher’s errand boy!?”

“That’s not it. The boy delivering the meat hurt his foot, so I came to ask instead. And I thought, since I’m the one who’ll be eating this, if I say it’s fine, then it shouldn’t be an issue, right?”

“Ahahaha… ha… whew… well, that’s true!”

Deborah tilted her head, puzzled as to why Vito was laughing so hard. After a while, he finally caught his breath and spoke more seriously.

“That chicken was ordered for tomorrow’s dinner. If you’re okay with eating it, then no one else has to know.”

“?”

Something about Vito’s words made Deborah pause. Then, a sharp intuition struck her.

(…Could it be…?)

But for now, she had something more important to focus on.

“Then please accept this chicken.”

“Alright. I’ll sign for it. Where’s the delivery slip?”

“?”

Deborah blinked, confused. Vito smirked.

“What? You don’t even know about delivery slips? You won’t make it as a butcher’s errand runner like that.”

“Oh dear. I may not be an errand runner, but I still need to learn this, don’t I?”

“That’s right. These things rely on trust. If you don’t get a signed delivery slip, the delivery isn’t considered complete. Without it, someone could lie and steal the goods or just toss them out instead of delivering them.”

“Oh my.”

Deborah tilted her head again.

“But wouldn’t they be caught right away? They’d lose their job and might end up homeless the next day. It seems foolish to do something like that.”

“A noble lady like you wouldn’t understand.”

Vito’s face remained stern, but in his eyes, there was a hint of sarcasm.

“In the world of commoners, there are people who don’t even know if they’ll survive tomorrow. They only think about what’s right in front of them—what they can gain today.”

“I see…”

A shadow briefly passed over Deborah’s otherwise emotionless face.

(I thought I understood, but life for commoners must be even harder than I imagined.)

If her secret were ever exposed and she was thrown out of the Sisley Marquis household, she might not even have the luxury of washing dirt off food before eating it.

…But for now, that was a future problem—one that might never happen. She quickly shifted her thoughts.
“Then I’ll go get the delivery slip from Tom—”

Just as she was about to turn, Shelly arrived, bringing Tom with her.

“Deborah!”

“Ah, perfect timing. I just found out that the meat delivery needs a signed slip. You have it, right?”

“Wait… does that mean… that meat is…”

Deborah smiled. Her smile was as dazzling as a blooming red rose.

“Yes. Apparently, washing it makes it perfectly fine.”

“Oh my! That’s wonderful, Tom!”

“…”

But instead of looking relieved, Tom hesitated. He glanced at Deborah before reluctantly handing the slip to Vito. Vito, sensing something odd, signed it but then spoke up.

“Hey, kid. You should be grateful to Deborah. She agreed to eat the dropped meat, so you didn’t get in trouble.”

Tom looked at Deborah again. His young face twisted in frustration, a single wrinkle forming between his brows.

“…Deborah…? You mean… the hostage?”

Deborah’s eyes widened. Beside her, Shelly let out a small gasp. The fact that commoners already knew about her situation meant the news had spread far. But she remained calm.

“Yes. My name is Deborah Mauzy.”

She deliberately didn’t introduce herself as “Deborah Sisley.” After all, she was just a political hostage in a marriage of convenience. Calling herself the marquis’s wife felt inappropriate, especially when she was still hiding things from him.

“…Why…”

Tom’s expression contorted with clear disgust and anger. He looked around at Shelly, Vito, and the others before spitting out his words.

“Why are you all just talking to her like she’s normal?! She’s a Mammutian!”

“Tom! That’s not—”

Shelly hurriedly tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t stop.

“Why are you all okay with this?! Because of people from her country… that person…!!”

At that moment—

Clap!

A single sharp clap echoed through the air, piercing the tension and silencing everyone.

All eyes turned toward the sound.

A man in a butler’s uniform stood there, a gentle smile on his face. He wore pristine white gloves, and his hands were still pressed together from the crisp sound he had just made.