Chapter 34

Talet stiffened, bowing deeply to Enoch.  

“I will find them without fail.”  

“You’d better,” Enoch replied coldly.  

He stared at the shadowed exterior of the hotel with an icy gaze and added, “Has Margo Leslie returned to the Leslie estate?”  

“I was just about to report that.”  

Talet exhaled a deep, heavy sigh with his head still lowered.  

Beside him, Robert looked back and forth between Talet and Enoch in growing confusion.  

‘Margo Leslie?’

Why was she being called by her maiden name? Robert, unaware of the circumstances, couldn’t understand.  

Though Robert was the Vice President of the Ventus Company and oversaw most of the business operations, Talet was responsible for Enoch’s private affairs and matters concerning the family—so it wasn’t surprising he was in the dark.

‘You idiot.’ 

Talet shot a deadly glare at Robert, who had again nudged his side, warning him to keep quiet. Then, he cleared his throat and continued.

“There was a major incident.”

“…I see.”

Talet had downplayed it as a “major incident,” but in truth, the Ventus manor had descended into chaos.  

The grand lady of the house, always poised and elegantly smiling, had suddenly started screaming, throwing dishes and smashing expensive ornaments.  

Her violent rampage left both the staff and investigators shaken.  

Hearing the summarized report, Enoch’s mouth fell slightly open in disbelief.  

‘Unbelievable.’

To think she tormented Asla so cruelly…  

The Margo Leslie he had known since childhood—noble, gentle, and refined—had been nothing but a mask.  

He thought he’d seen enough two-faced people in his life, but every glimpse of Margo’s hidden self left him exhaling in disbelief.  

“She left for the capital yesterday, insisting she must speak with you directly.”

“Tch.”

Enoch scoffed, but a sudden surge of headache made him press his temple.  

Talet quickly spoke up.  

“I’ll do my best to stop her—”

“No.”  

His silver hair fell across his flawless forehead as he slowly shook his head, eyes narrowing as he stared into the darkness cloaking the capital.  

“There are things I want to ask her directly. Let her through when she arrives.”  

“Understood.”

“She might head straight for the Hall of Deputies. If she meets with anyone, report it immediately.”

Enoch surveyed the eerily quiet perimeter of the hotel and added in a chill voice, “Did I not order tighter security?”

“We’re planning to hire more guards. Please decide the scale.”

“More than fifty.”

“…That many? Wouldn’t that affect the hotel’s image?”  

Talet asked cautiously, and Enoch shook his head.  

“The opponent is the Hall of Deputies. Lisette Grosset is a holy knight. Fifty is the minimum. She will come for Asla, no doubt. Any unusual activity from the Pope, Grosset, or the Deputies?”

“None so far. All is quiet.”

“Suspiciously quiet. What are they scheming?”

“I’ll continue monitoring. If the madam steps out, should I assign the highest level of protection?”

Enoch stroked his chin in thought before shaking his head.  

“She can’t feel burdened. Assign three, and have them guard discreetly. Besides, those people won’t cause a scene in a crowded area.”

“Understood, sir.”

While Enoch and Talet conversed, Robert slowly pieced things together and turned pale.  

He clenched his jaw, forcibly closing his mouth to stop it from falling open.  

This was no ordinary situation.

‘Just what is going on…?’

He had no idea how things had escalated so far, but the knot of unease in his chest tightened.  

And that anxiety was soon proven justified.  

Because Margo hadn’t come to the capital just to meet Enoch.

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“I’d like to go out right away today. Could you get things ready, May?”

Having finished a simple breakfast of half a piece of toast, salad, and eggs, Asla spoke softly.  

May, who had just sent the dishes out to the hall, beamed and answered brightly.

“Yes, Madam! Where would you like to go?”

In truth, May had been turning over many thoughts since the day before.  

The Lady she now served had once been the princess of the Holy Kingdom—someone May had admired since childhood.  

She was beautiful, graceful, and calm.  

She wasn’t harsh or cruel and had always treated May, a servant, with kindness.  

Though she wasn’t talkative, she rarely spoke thoughtlessly, and her considerate eyes left a lasting impression.

But it was only yesterday that May realized her Lady held a vague fear toward people.  

She was deeply concerned.  

She couldn’t understand why.  

The Lady’s husband, Duke Enoch Ventus, was kind in truth, and there wasn’t a single person mistreating her.  

It seemed like she should be nothing but happy.

May thought her Lady, though wealthy, young, and lovely, looked like she was standing on ground that melted and caved in beneath her.  

But hearing Asla announce that she wanted to go out this morning, May began to think maybe it had just been her imagination.

Asla murmured as she approached the window.

“Hmm. Where would a married woman in the capital go? Surely ladies don’t visit dull places like temples so early in the morning?”

May stared blankly at Asla, who smiled more easily than usual today.  

Bathed in the morning sunlight, she was dazzlingly radiant.  

With a cheerful tone, May replied, “Of course not, Madam! How about Rosshill Street today? New autumn pieces should be launching soon. It’d be a great time to browse and pick a designer you like.”

“I see.”

Asla nodded.  

The clothes Enoch had gifted her were all for summer.  

The season would soon change to a cooler one, but she had no autumn wear to use while staying in the capital.  

She realized it was time to choose something herself, not something Enoch had selected for her.  

Having dressed in the Holy Kingdom’s style her whole life, she’d never had a sense for choosing clothes, but recently, as she wore the empire-style garments May had picked for her, she started to feel intrigued.  

Depending on the color arrangement, fabric, and design, she looked either suited or unsuited to what she wore—and that difference felt so curious and new.

‘So I… liked things like this, after all.’

She hadn’t even been allowed to wear colorful clothes, let alone choose an accessory of her own.  

As royalty of the Sherita line, those things had been strictly forbidden.  

She had longed for them in silence, and maybe that yearning had made her life feel even more suffocating.  

A small smile formed on her lips.

She remembered Enoch telling her to spend freely, clearly driven by guilt over what Margo had done.

‘Maybe I’ll really splurge this time and make Enoch regret it.’

Asla firmly resolved to set a large spending budget for the day—though she didn’t realize that even her “big budget” would likely only make Enoch chuckle in amusement.

‘He must be busy with Duke Jemia again this morning.’

When she had woken up and found Enoch already gone, she felt oddly empty—and a little sulky.  

She’d given him so much of her heart since childhood, and now that they spent more time together, her desire for his presence was growing.  

To shake off the clinging attachment she felt toward Enoch, Asla hurried her preparations.

As she looked in the mirror at her hair, styled by May into a half-up braid near the forehead and the rest gently flowing down, she hesitated, then made a quiet request.

“May.”

“Yes, Madam?”

“I’d like to try on the dress my husband gave me—the one in red fabric with white floral embroidery.”

May’s eyes widened in surprise.  

It was the first time Asla had chosen her own clothes, but it was even more surprising that she had picked such a bold color.

“Wow, Madam!”

May couldn’t help clapping her hands and gushing in delight when she saw how stunningly well the red dress suited Asla.

“You’re truly, truly beautiful! I swear, no one else could wear this dress as perfectly as you, Madam.”

“Thank you, May.”

Asla smiled faintly, tucking her hair behind one ear, a bit bashfully.  

May selected a pair of sandals adorned with delicate gemstones and helped Asla into them.  

When Asla finally descended to the hotel lobby, all eyes turned to her.

The intensity of those blatant, admiring stares made Asla tense up slightly.

“May… Did I do something wrong?”

May leaned in and whispered softly into her ear.

“Being beautiful is the problem, Madam. If beauty were a crime, I think you’d be sentenced to life in prison.”

She gently tugged on the edge of Asla’s slightly rumpled skirt and added playfully, “Everyone’s going to fall in love with you. Let’s be on our way, Madam.”

“May… thank you.”

Asla had been stiff with tension, but May’s lighthearted joke helped her straighten her shoulders.  

She began walking slowly, one careful step at a time.

This was the capital, where power and influence were densely concentrated.  

Living here with Enoch was the complete opposite of hiding away in the Ventus territory, where she had once lived as if she were already dead.

According to Enoch, marrying him didn’t hurt him in any way.  

So there was no need to keep hiding.  

She needed to assess reality and adapt.

Asla made up her mind to accept the attention, the stares, and even the possible approaches from others that came with being the Duchess Ventus.

She responded to the hotel guests who met her gaze with slow, deliberate nods.  

Those who received her greeting looked surprised but courteously returned it, and Asla felt reassured as she stepped out of the hotel.

“Haa…”

It hadn’t been so hard after all—this act of blending into the world.  

Confidence in being able to adjust to her new name and identity as Asla Ventus began to well up inside her, like a bubbling spring emerging from a tiny crack.

‘Ah.’

Just as she was about to exit the lobby, Asla suddenly recalled something.  

She turned to the hotel manager who had come to see her off and asked gently, “Has any mail or message arrived for me?”

“Yes, my JLady. I was about to send it to your room.”

At that, Asla’s expression subtly hardened, and her throat went dry.  

The manager quickly brought over a card from the front desk.  

Asla braced herself, fearing it might bear the name Lisette Grosset.

But when she read the name written on the envelope, she relaxed.

Ian Hertha.

After reading the card, which simply contained his name and the address where he could be reached, Asla let out a breath of relief.  

But then, a heaviness sank in her chest again.

It had been over a week since she arrived in the capital.  

Surely Lisette, and even the Pope, would have realized by now that she was here.

Yet despite Ian’s warning, there had been no approach—not from Lisette, nor from anyone else.

‘Have they given up on me? If so, that would be a relief.’