A kind and lovely impression.
Light brown hair with a pinkish hue.
Anyone who saw Isabelle of Glintland even once would unhesitatingly describe her as a beauty with a kind demeanor.
But Isabelle of Glintland was absolutely not that kind of person.
If she were, she would not have been able to claw her way up to this position in the first place.
“To have come all the way to Ivanes for this,” she muttered.
She began to chew on the tips of her beautifully manicured fingernails.
“Isabelle.
The reason I made a lowly wench rotting in the corner of some fishing village into a Duchess is because you must be the finest dowry.”
Those were the words of the King of Glintland, who had plucked her from the bottom, a girl floundering after losing her family and loved ones in an instant.
“Once you have shared a bridal chamber with Grand Duke Berk in Solleria, your wish shall be granted.”
At those words, she had willingly nodded.
On the surface, she was a diplomatic envoy sent to reaffirm the solidarity of both countries, but in reality, she was on a marriage journey born from aligned national interests.
If one were to pick the most desperate person involved, Isabelle of Glintland would undoubtedly be first.
“But I cannot give up now,” she declared.
Of course, she had not expected Grand Duke Berk to fall for her immediately.
If he had harbored any intention of aligning with Glintland, he would have relinquished his title long ago instead of remaining a soldier.
She had known before her departure that this path would not be easy.
That was precisely why the King of Glintland had sent Isabelle after such careful consideration.
A beauty capable of tempting any man, with graceful gestures and a tongue so sweet it seemed coated in sugar.
However, no matter how lovely a woman, she cannot seduce an opponent she has not even met.
Grand Duke Berk had ultimately not attended the diplomatic banquet that day.
After causing such an uproar in the reception room, there was no way he could have smoothly attended the main event.
To think he would slip away so quickly, before she could even make her move.
Isabelle picked up a single deep pink plum from the VIP room table and rubbed it with her thumb.
A faint squeak of skin against rind echoed in the silence.
‘They said he was particular only about his relationships with women…’
It was not that there were no rumors.
Two years prior, Grand Duke Berk had been caught in a plausible scandal with a noble young lady.
However, it was quickly understood that the incident had occurred because the young lady adored Grand Duke Berk so much that she had crossed a line, and he had actually garnered public sympathy.
And now, suddenly, he had a marriage partner.
It was clear he had planted a spy in advance and prepared for this.
‘They called him a war hero, but is he a strategist at heart?’
Isabelle prided herself on knowing men well.
Among the countless men she had met, there were those with outstanding martial prowess and those praised for their wisdom.
But when it came to women, they always had a blind spot.
Even men who were thorough about their personal safety were left bewildered and helpless once they met Isabelle.
So she had been confident.
However, she had not expected things to go so awry the moment she arrived in Ivanes.
Time, after all, was fair to everyone; before Isabelle had even arrived, the Grand Duke had waged a war of public opinion and completely overturned the political marriage. Find the original chapter at novelping.com.
To think he had created a situation with no opening whatsoever.
She had seen the face of the ‘Grand Duchess candidate’—pink eyes like a tart plum—in a newspaper illustration.
An aide to the Grand Duke, was she?
In terms of beauty, she could not even compare to Isabelle.
If there had been time before the wedding, she would have managed to meet Grand Duke Berk and seduce him somehow.
If not that, she would have at least attempted to negotiate.
But with things as they were, Isabelle had nowhere to go.
Unless….
Isabelle pressed down hard on the plum with the tip of her fingernail.
Bright red juice spurted out.
“…Should I get rid of it?” she murmured to herself.
The Marchioness of Solleria.
It might be unnecessary for the Grand Duke, but for Isabelle, it was a status and a bridge she absolutely needed.
This was Ivanes.
A foreign country where Isabelle did not have a single acquaintance.
She knew that if she acted rashly in a place like this, she would ruin even the things that might have worked out.
But that didn’t mean she could just sit back and twiddle her thumbs.
‘I have no choice but to rain on their parade.’
Isabelle squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them.
Then, she rang the bell pull to summon the maid who had accompanied her from Glintland.
“Bring all the gifts we brought from Glintland.”
“All of them?” the maid flinched.
It was understandable, as everything Isabelle had brought from Glintland was incredibly luxurious.
To be precise, they were items she had brought thinking they would become part of her dowry.
“Every single one.”
Soon, the VIP room was packed full.
Isabelle, walking among the items with her arms crossed, soon selected a single vase—a beautiful green one.
“Tell the Chief Chamberlain’s office of the Ivanes Royal Palace that I would like this sent to the Berk Grand Duchy as a wedding gift.
Make sure to convey that it is a vase carved from a single piece of beryl, suitable for the Grand Duke’s bridal chamber.”
She had no intention of backing down like this.
Isabelle’s eyes shone as she lifted the vase and examined it this way and that.
“And could you gather every newspaper that has reported on the Grand Duke’s marriage and the Amboise family?”
“Yes, milady,” the maid replied, taking the box containing the vase from Isabelle’s hands and bowing her head.
As she was about to stand up, however, the maid saw something confusing.
At Isabelle’s feet, where she had just handed over the vase, lay another box containing an item similar to the one in her hands.
‘…Maybe not?’
But Isabelle’s sharp question was thrown at the hesitating maid.
“What are you doing?”
It was effectively an order to leave.
The maid flinched, tore her gaze away, and stammered, “O-Oh, nothing.”
The maid hunched her shoulders and retreated, holding the box.
‘Phew.’
Isabelle of Glintland.
There were only rumors about the woman the King of Glintland had brought in, adopted, and bestowed a title upon.
That she was a woman of the streets, that she was the last descendant of a ruined family…
However, to a lowly laundry maid, she was simply a very high and terrifying person.
“Hey, I’m telling you, that woman isn’t a noble.
Who do you think you are to tag along on a ducal marriage procession?”
Her colleagues in the laundry room, jealous of the maid who had suddenly risen in status, had chattered away like that.
Something about how it made no sense for the King of Glintland to insist she was a collateral relative?
Well, it didn’t matter.
Isabelle Glintland was a master who occasionally had a chilling side, like just now, but she wasn’t a difficult woman to serve.
So the maid casually dismissed what she had seen and cast her eyes down at the box she was holding.
“It’s really pretty.”
The maid beamed at the vase.
Being drafted for this marriage procession had been scary at first, but now she liked it.
Although her masters looked like they were at a funeral because the marriage talks seemed to have fallen through, wasn’t this a chance for someone like her to see things she would never witness in her lifetime?
Furthermore, for a maid who had to follow a Duke to a foreign country, she had even acquired several nice outfits.
They were provided by the Royal Palace of Glintland.
The scary Chief Chamberlain of the Royal Palace had told her that she could sell the clothes when she returned from the journey.
On top of that, the pay was generous.
Sightseeing in a foreign royal palace and touching expensive vases.
It couldn’t be more delightful.
The closed door slid open again.
But the excited maid did not know.
That Isabelle Glintland’s chilling gaze was still trailing behind her back.
Meanwhile, speaking of the Amboise family.
The situation unfolded roughly as Chloe had predicted.
People showed immense interest in the Amboise family, whose existence they hadn’t even known about until then.
Newspapers were full of questions about where the Amboise family lived and who its members were.
It was reported that both parents of the Amboise family were scholars, that they hadn’t entered the capital, Ibaneres, for several years, that there were three younger siblings, that Chloe Amboise was practically the head of the household, and that Eric Amboise, immediately below her, was attending a boarding military academy.
Among them, the young lady who received the most attention was the third child, Leah Amboise.
Because she was attending a women’s university in the capital, she happened to be living closest to her older sister.
So, every newspaper was desperate to interview Leah Amboise.
But she was nowhere to be found.
To be precise, all the reporters who visited the Amboise family’s small house on Le Martin went on a wild goose chase.
There was no one there.
There was even an article titled ‘The Amboise Family, Missing in the Storm?’
Of course, they weren’t truly missing.
In the eye of that very storm, at this very moment.
Chloe Amboise’s sister, Leah Amboise, was…
“She definitely caused trouble….”
…muttering dazedly in the middle of the Berk Grand Duchy.