The Duchess Returns
“Well, once she becomes the Duchess…”
Huh?
“What—what did you just say? The Duchess?”
“Why?”
Herman asked back with a look that said there was nothing wrong with it. Yet the straight set of his shoulders betrayed the quiet confidence of a man who had finally secured the other’s permission.
Seeing this, Robert composed his startled heart and confirmed once more.
“The young lady—no, your wife—has decided? To remarry you?”
Herman cleared his throat with a soft cough and nodded. The corners of his mouth twitched with a subtle mix of pride and joy.
“Your wife has made a wise choice.”
Considering her own safety and future, it would be best to raise the shield of Bertis.
“Then… is that why you came today as well?”
“More or less.”
In truth, they could have remarried just like this. Mutual consent alone was enough to make them husband and wife with a single document.
But for this remarriage, Herman needed a more certain witness. Not merely the parties involved—he wanted a marriage approved by the king of this nation as well.
It was a matter of securing airtight notarization. Who would dare raise an objection to a document stamped with the royal seal?
“I’ll have the papers prepared at once. Will you hold the ceremony again?”
“…I’d like to, of course.”
Knowing Riena’s temperament, she would probably refuse, saying they had already held one once and that was enough. She was not someone who particularly enjoyed fuss.
“I’ll have to talk it over with her.”
“Discuss it at your leisure. If you do hold a ceremony, I’ll open the Grand Banquet Hall for you.”
At those words, Herman’s expression flickered with mild surprise.
The Grand Banquet Hall was where royal weddings were typically held; even high-ranking nobles rarely dared to request it. To marry there was a dream not only for the young ladies of society, but for noblewomen as well.
But for one person alone—
“Then she’ll refuse on the spot.”
Riena, who disliked anything burdensome, would turn it down without a second thought.
Robert silently agreed and moved his lips.
“Your wife’s tastes really are difficult to pin down.”
He recalled the Riena he had met before. She had a slightly eccentric side, yet she was sharp-minded and quick on the uptake. She enjoyed things pleasing to the eye, but she was not one to indulge in outright extravagance.
She was similar in grain to Herman, and yet subtly different—enough to give a man something to ponder.
“Then let’s decide the extras later. For now, we should deal with what’s right in front of us.”
Settling the will was urgent enough, but the counterfeit currency matter needed attention as well.
“…By the way.”
Robert glanced carefully at his friend’s face.
“Are you all right?”
Herman raised one eyebrow. Robert swallowed and carefully began.
“The funeral only just ended, didn’t it?”
“…”
“You haven’t fully settled your heart yet either.”
“Well.”
Herman spoke slowly.
“Is there anything left to settle?”
His voice was calm.
The late Duke had long suffered from a chronic illness. After his divorce from Riena, his condition had visibly worsened. He simply never showed it to anyone.
He had stubbornly endured alone until it finally broke, and by then little time remained to him. Perhaps because he had prepared for the end knowing that, when Herman finally faced his father’s lifeless body, his heart had felt a little hollow—yet calmer than expected.
There had never been much familial affection to begin with. Without Riena, they had each simply done their own work and taken little interest in each other. Like most noble houses, the late Duke and Herman had been less “father and son” than “family head and heir.”
“We’ll need to wrap up the inheritance quickly. That old snake’s brood is already opening its mouth without knowing a thing.”
“…”
“Before they try another move.”
The dead were the dead.
“We strike first.”
The living had to live.
Before Herman returned.
Having finished clearing out her old house completely, Riena entered her former study for the first time in a very long while instead of the greenhouse where she might have rested comfortably.
“Everything’s still here?”
The bedroom, too.
The study remained exactly as she had left it after her final tidying.
“His Grace ordered that nothing be rearranged—only cleaned. The bedroom and greenhouse as well.”
“…Is that so?”
Riena walked lightly through the study with a faintly strange feeling. Beyond the family documents, the bookshelves packed with the books she usually loved were one of her favorite places.
The spacious guest table and sofa, even the ink and quill she had used so often—everything was ready enough that she could have begun work at once.
Knock, knock—
“My Lady.”
The housekeeper who had served Bertis her entire life bowed with a face full of deep emotion.
When Riena had first returned, the housekeeper had fretted that she might vanish again in a blink. But today, the moment she heard that every belonging had been moved here and that Riena was reclaiming her place as mistress of the house, the housekeeper could no longer contain the swelling in her chest.
She was the one who had briefly brought spring to this bleak Bertis estate. At first the fact that she came from a fallen noble house had troubled her, but now there was no one who wished for her return more.
“To be able to serve My Lady again like this…! This one has no further regrets in life.”
A voice thick with accumulated longing and joy rang out, heavy and full.
Riena quietly smiled and shook her head.
She had already known the servants of the mansion welcomed her, yet facing it directly and feeling it again made her chest stir for no reason.
“I heard you handled part of the internal affairs while I was gone.”
“That is correct, My Lady. In fact, I came because I have something to say regarding that matter.”
Riena nodded, indicating she should speak freely. The housekeeper then gave a glance to Melissa, who stood beside her.
Receiving the signal, Melissa hurriedly left the room.
While waiting for the related documents to arrive, Riena pointed to the guest sofa. Once the housekeeper settled onto the plush velvet cushions, she opened her mouth at once.
“As you know, My Lady, while you were away I managed a portion of the internal affairs.”
But there had been clear limits to the housekeeper’s authority.
In a smaller house she might somehow have managed, but this was the Ducal House of Bertis. From the start it had been structurally impossible for one housekeeper to take responsibility for the vast internal administration of a ducal house.
“Overall internal affairs were handled by Madame Peasant.”
“…I had guessed as much.”
Of all people, that stiff-necked woman. Riena’s expression darkened slightly.
Madame Peasant was Herman’s aunt and the late Duke’s elder sister. She had also been one of the fiercest opponents when Riena first became Duchess.
“She’ll have the seal as well, then.”
“The moment I heard My Lady had returned, I sent a letter to Peasant at once, but…”
The housekeeper deliberately trailed off. Catching the meaning, Riena laughed soundlessly.
“She’ll ignore it, of course.”
The woman she had so despised was becoming mistress of the mansion again. Bone-deep superior aristocrat that she was, Madame Peasant would never hand it over meekly.
“I’ll have to go myself.”
Sending any other aide would only get them turned away at the door and driven off.
“Perhaps you should speak to His Grace. Even Madame would not be able to refuse His Grace’s command.”
“That’s true enough.”
But even if she recovered the authority, Madame Peasant would already have seized real power by controlling the family’s internal affairs all this time. Simply receiving the seal back would not be enough.
To stand perfectly as Duchess, she would have to meet the woman at least once.
“Housekeeper.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
“While you’re bringing the materials, bring the ledgers as well, would you? And fetch the financial aide too.”
“The ledgers…?”
Instead of answering, Riena gave a sly little smile.
They said that to bring down an enemy, one first had to know that enemy well.
In the old days it would have been quite awkward.
But not now.
At times like this, threats worked far better than bowing one’s head.