The Virtually Exiled Duke’s Daughter Is Troubled When Her Fiancé in a Neighboring Country Says, "I Will Never Love You" - Episode 33

By the time Deborah had finished getting dressed, a slightly late breakfast was brought to her room. As usual, it consisted of a fresh salad, scrambled eggs, bread, and warm soup. However, she found herself unable to eat much.

“Are you feeling alright? Perhaps porridge would have been a better choice. Shall I have some prepared for you?”

Mrs. Lauren’s voice was full of concern. Feeling a little awkward, Deborah lowered her gaze.

“No, that’s not it.”

“Hmm?”

“Well… it’s just that… after not wearing one for so long, my corset feels a bit tight.”

“Oh my!”

For once, Mrs. Lauren’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

“It’s fine when I’m just sitting, but when I start eating and my stomach expands even a little, it gets a bit uncomfortable…”

It had been about three weeks since Deborah arrived at the Sisley estate. Aside from the first three days, she had spent her time in simple, loose dresses, eating the delicious meals prepared by the chef every day. That seemed to be the cause.

“It’s embarrassing that I’ve gained weight…”

Her cheeks and neck flushed red, and she turned her face downward in shame.

“No! If anything, your arms and waist are still far too slender, Deborah. Gaining a little weight is actually healthier!”

“That’s not true…”

“It is true! I’ve heard that most gentlemen prefer women with some softness rather than those who are too thin!”

“R-Really?”

Deborah hesitated, tilting her head slightly as she considered Mrs. Lauren’s words.

(Does the marquis prefer women with a fuller figure as well…?)

The portrait of Magdalene only showed her face and upper chest, but the rosy roundness of her cheeks suggested that she wasn’t overly thin.

As she recalled this, Deborah suddenly caught herself.

(No, stop. Why am I even thinking about this?)

Whether or not she fit the marquis’s preferences was irrelevant. He had made it clear that he only loved his late wife and would never love Deborah.

Shaking her head slightly to dispel the thought, she turned back to Mrs. Lauren.

“Still, if I gain any more weight, wearing a corset will become unbearable. I’ll skip lunch today. Also, is there any way I could move around a little?”

However, since she had been instructed not to leave her room for the time being, her options were limited. After a moment of thought, she made a suggestion.

“…Perhaps I could practice dancing?”

Mrs. Lauren hesitated before speaking.

“I’m afraid no one in this household, aside from His Lordship, would be a suitable dance partner for you, Deborah.

May I take some time to consider it?”

“Oh, no need. It was just a passing thought. I apologize for being selfish.”

“Selfish…?”

Mrs. Lauren’s expression shifted slightly, as if something in Deborah’s words had struck a chord.

“In any case, let’s loosen your corset a little. I may have tightened it too much—my apologies.”

Deborah quickly denied that it was Mrs. Lauren’s fault, but she gladly accepted the offer.

If she couldn’t eat properly, or if she felt faint from discomfort, she would never be able to convince anyone that she had recovered.

And if Swallow left the mansion before she could speak to him, she would have to start the painful conversation all over again with someone else.

Deborah was growing anxious. She needed to prove to Swallow as soon as possible that she was well, calm, and ready to talk.

◆
Thanks to the slightly loosened corset, she managed to finish her breakfast without trouble. However, with walks in the garden forbidden, and with neither the piano nor dance practice as an option, she had no way to move around.

Feeling restless again, Deborah decided to work on a new embroidery design.

“What would be nice to embroider…?”

“Whatever you choose, I’m sure it will turn out beautifully, Deborah.”

“My, Mrs. Lauren, you’re quite flattering today.”

Deborah smiled at the compliment, but then she suddenly fell silent. Her gray eyes dimmed, like a glass bead catching no light.

(I wish I could make handkerchiefs with everyone’s names embroidered on them…)

When Shelly had insisted on using her own handkerchief to tend to Tom’s injury, Deborah had pointed out that Shelly would be left without one. The hesitation in the maid’s movements at that moment had been clear.

Few servants could afford to own multiple fine handkerchiefs. Meanwhile, among Deborah’s belongings from her homeland were plenty of silk handkerchiefs and fabric for embroidery.

But now, Deborah understood something. She had realized that her very presence, as an outsider from an enemy nation, was seen as an intrusion upon the lingering memory of Magdalene.

—Or perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. But at least, that was how Deborah perceived it.

Even if she gifted them handkerchiefs, they would likely only pretend to be happy while feeling conflicted inside.

She was sure of it.

“…Deborah?”

Mrs. Lauren’s voice was unusually gentle, as if she sensed Deborah’s inner turmoil.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Deborah put on a perfect, practiced smile.

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking about the design.”

With that, she began sketching embroidery patterns onto the white fabric.

She had no particular goal in mind—only the desire to keep herself busy. So she chose an intricate vine motif, something that would take a long time to complete.

Mrs. Lauren remained silent as she watched her work.