Chapter 28

The third method. Making my side. (8)

The sender of the letter was Charlotte. This means that Merilyn and Charlotte were close enough to keep dried flowers and letters in the drawer of the dressing table. Did Charlotte know that the Duke was cold with her when she heard of Merilyn, who was weak after giving birth to Carl? Does she not like the duke who had her a new wife shortly after her death?

I was also a friend of Merilyn’s, and I became a Duchess because of her willpower, but Charlotte, who was away from the castle at the time, maybe thought otherwise. A man who had a child and married the friend of his wife not long after her death. Oh, it was a combination that even Nara would have cursed and hated each other, saying they had met each other.

But for that matter, Charlotte has never shown any hostility to me. She always stood by The Duchess Dowager quietly. Contrary to the fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Karl at first, he sneaked away from the nursery because he didn’t like the child very much, she quietly stood by The Duchess Dowager and sometimes gave appropriate herbs to those who complained of headaches, abdominal pain, or menstrual pain. I quite liked her doing her best without saying a word…

Looking far into the burning fireplace, I climbed onto the bed. I was depressed to think that Charlotte might actually hate me because the person she met and talked to was arrogant. Don’t think too much and go to sleep.

At that time, I heard a knock, followed by a woman’s voice calling me ‘Ma’am’. Well, clearing my throat, I replied.

“Come on in.”

It was annoying to go out to open the door, and there were only two people in this castle who could open my door by themselves anyway. The Duke and his mother-in-law. When the door opened, the maid came into the bedroom with her head down.

“Come closer.”

The maid, who approached me with a calm step, stopped in front of the bed I was lying on. When asked what was going on, she said some pretty surprising words.

“The Duke asked me if I could eat it as a bed soon…”

The maid bowed her head further, blurring the end of her words. I was surprised inwardly. He must be tired, so I thought he would drink and crawl into the bedroom to sleep… Did he miss the touch of a woman after drinking?

“Is there any owner of the bedroom between the couple? Tell him I got it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The maid looked pleased with my positive reply. I couldn’t see her expression because she lowered her head, but her voice was clear. Well, even if the answer was a rejection, it was the maid who delivered it, so she was probably afraid that the Duke would get angry if I refused. I understood her joy because many nobles sometimes vented their anger on servants and maids.

The maid left the room again and I took a fresh look at myself. I wore pajamas to go to bed and tied my hair down loosely. It wasn’t otherwise messy or ugly, but I was nervous to face my husband in my bedroom after half a year.

It wasn’t long before I heard a knock.

This time, I stood up and headed toward the door, conscious of my heart pounding for no reason. When I opened the door, there was a duke.

“Wow, the smell of alcohol.”

“…I didn’t drink much.”

Compared to the strong smell of alcohol, the Duke’s cheeks were red, which was relatively normal and clearly answered. As I stepped aside, the Duke came into my bedroom, took off his cloak-like coat over his shoulder, and dropped it on the floor.

“Whoo.”

Exhale for a long time, the Duke roughly undressed and went to the fireplace and sat down. Sitting languidly on a fluffy carpet, the Duke, curled up on the big back and shoulders, warmed by the fireplace’s flame, was just like a dog. I mean it not as a curse, but really, a dog.

* * *

The back of the Duke’s neck was covered with shaggy black hair. The flame of the fireplace was reflected in the Duke’s purple eyes, and the shaggy fur was also hair, but it was just like a dog sitting on a warm fire and watching the fire.

“Amanda, come here and sit down, will you? sit down?”

Unable to find a proper answer, the Duke tilted his head. The Duke’s cheeks were flushed with wine and the heat of the fireplace. I sat down beside him as asked.

“Why are you talking like that?”

“I have to speak up to my wife in respect, but I have to raise my authority because I am the lord.”

The drunken duke murmured in a slow voice. Perhaps one of the aides advised him to treat his wife like that.

“Did we need authority between us? I didn’t expect that.”

“No, it’s just, he, someone else told me to…”

When he made up a sad voice, the Duke began to make excuses, not knowing what to do.

“I’m sorry, Madam. You can talk to me, too.”

I nodded when I saw the Duke speaking vaguely and apologizing.

“Yes, I can.”

The Duke blinked with his eyes wide open as if he had not really expected me to. Soon he nodded his head and agreed.

“My parents respected each other… And they could talk informally to each other.”

Who dares to speak informally to the Duke of DeMancier, the ruler of the North? The only way to express the equality of the opponent he faced in the Duke’s position would be by raising his words. But I didn’t bother to correct what the Duke accepted on his own. Who cares? It’s cute. We can’t really talk informally to each other in public, but who knows just because we’re talking informally to each other when it’s just the two of us. It only happens on the bed.