To all readers following this work up-to-date, I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies for any inconsistencies that may arise throughout the chapters. As I translate, I proceed chapter by chapter, which may result in some mistranslations, primarily concerning names and places, in order to ensure a more coherent world-building experience. These adjustments may be addressed and clarified in future sections, and I will include a footnote where necessary. Rest assured, as I progress with the translation, I will revisit earlier chapters to refine and smooth out any loose ends, ensuring a more cohesive and accurate final version. Moving forward, I intend to avoid such inconsistencies. Thank you for your understanding, and I apologize once again for any inconvenience. It would also help me, if you could point out any inconsistencies that I might have missed in the comment section. Thank you and happy reading~
TNBTW | Episode 23
by cookie‘I know that feeling all too well.’
The familiar scene pulled Edith into the tides of her own memories, and for a moment, she let herself drift in the current of nostalgia.
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‘Sister, is it Christmas today?’
‘Christmas is in December, silly. It’s June now.’
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‘But there are so many presents piled up in the director’s office! Come on, I’ll show you!’
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Her little sister, chattering like a sparrow, had eagerly tugged her into the hallway. The sight of her was still vivid in Edith’s mind. Whenever rare gifts arrived, the children’s hearts would race with excitement, wondering what treasures might await them.
A wistful smile escaped her lips as she reminisced about those irretrievable days. Then, amidst the laughter of the children, a delighted cry rang out.
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“Oh, my little ones! Come here, come here! The Duke of Devion has sent us gifts!”
The old woman’s enthusiastic call was like a bell summoning the children. The narrow doorway burst open as they rushed out in a noisy, joyful crowd. Groups of children clustered around each table, their exclamations filling the room.
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“Wow! Can we really eat all of this?”
“Of course, dears. That’s what it’s here for! But eat slowly, or you’ll get a tummy ache! And roll up your sleeves, for goodness’ sake.”
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The elderly couple bustled about, their faces brimming with fond smiles as they tended to the children.
“Grandpa, you should eat some too!”
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“Don’t worry about me, child. There’s plenty for everyone. You go on and eat.”
“No, you must eat!”
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The child held out a small, carefully clasped meat pie. Unable to refuse, the old man accepted it with a chuckle, and the child’s face lit up with joy.
“What’s this? There’s fruit trapped inside this droplet!”
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“That’s jelly. It’s sweet and delicious.”
Even the grumbling chef, who had been muttering complaints earlier, had now quietly slipped into the group of children. Every time one of them showed interest in his dishes, he interjected with a proud comment.
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“This meat looks like a flower! It’s amazing!”
“Try it. It’s as impressive in taste as it is in looks—my masterpiece!”
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“What’s a masterpiece?”
“In simple terms, it’s something so great it could go down in history.”
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“What’s history?”
“Oh, dear!”
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Though he feigned indignation, the cook’s chest swelled with pride. He was quick to bark orders at the servants whenever the plates emptied, urging them to bring more food without delay.
The impromptu party was a roaring success. The thin, crispy pastries meant to be dipped in cream and honey were particularly popular.
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Edith watched the heartwarming scene unfold under the shade, feeling as if the sight alone could fill her stomach. Lost in her reverie, she was startled by a tug at her side.
“Sister.”
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She turned to see a scrawny young boy. He was small and frail, yet there was an odd maturity in his demeanor. His face was remarkably clean, and as she studied him, she realized he was an unfamiliar presence despite having watched the children all along.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
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“I’m not hungry.”
The boy replied calmly, his tone unusually composed for his age. Then, after a moment, he added, “But, Sister, can I take that with me?”
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“What? The jelly?”
“Yes, that.”
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‘But where to?’ Edith was about to ask, but she held her tongue. Every child had their own circumstances, after all. Judging by his attitude, it didn’t seem like he was being coerced to take it away.
“Of course, you can. How much do you want?”
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“Just a little…”
“Finn! So here you are, by the madam’s side. Come and have a bite, dear, won’t you?”
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Just as Edith was about to rise, the elderly woman approached, her voice warm and inviting. At the sight of her, however, the boy’s expression hardened, and he fled without a word.
“Finn! Finn!”
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“Let him be. It seems the boy needs time.”
The woman called out after him with concern, but he didn’t look back. As Edith stood frozen, taken aback by the sudden turn of events, the old man approached and gently comforted his wife.
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“That child is Finn. He wasn’t always like this… but ever since his sister left, he’s distanced himself from us.”
As it turned out, Finn had a younger sister named Lucy, who had been adopted by a noble family last year.
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“We never force the children to leave against their will. In fact, we were against it at first. But Finn insisted—he wanted his sister to have a better life, even if it meant letting her go.”
Edith believed the couple was telling the truth. She didn’t need the power of her status window to discern it; the children’s bright smiles were proof enough.
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The orphanage was well-kept, and the children’s living spaces were surprisingly spacious and tidy. Their clothes, while old, were clearly well-maintained.
If the elderly couple had been sending the children away for profit, there would be no explaining why their own garments were far more worn than those of the children.
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“You must excuse us for showing you such unpleasantness,” the old man said apologetically.
“No, please, don’t say that,” Edith replied.
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Yet no matter how kind-hearted they were, even these two could not possibly understand the depths of every child’s heart. Edith knew this all too well; she had seen such situations countless times before.
‘So his name was Finn. And his younger sister’s name is Lucy.’
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Perhaps that was why she felt even more drawn to them. Edith repeated their names over and over in her mind, determined not to forget the siblings from the orphanage.
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***
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At the same time, in the private chambers of the Grand Duchy of Valesia, the fragrant aroma of tea filled the air.
“They even sent an invitation to the Duchess? How presumptuous!”
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“She really thinks she’s the lady of a ducal house, doesn’t she?”
Laughter spilled from the lips of the ladies dressed in resplendent gowns of every hue. Their mockery had a clear target: Edith Irene Brussels, the country noblewoman who had recently become the Duchess of Devion.
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Though they appeared as delicate and charming as flowers raised in a greenhouse, these women were anything but naïve.
These women, who had been socializing and forming connections with noble families since their debutante days, were not pleased with Edith Irene Brussels, who had become a duchess overnight.
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Marriage, after all, had its unspoken standards, and Edith was far from meeting them. It was no surprise she wasn’t warmly welcomed. A family without a history to back its title was often regarded as inferior, regardless of rank.
“Surely His Grace the Duke must be miserable. This marriage must have been against his will.”
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Of course, the sheer presence of the Duke of Devion only amplified their resentment.
Whenever a ball was held at the Imperial Palace, he would appear like a god of beauty from myth, captivating every woman in the hall before vanishing without a word. That such a man had married was hard for them to accept.
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Many of these women had secretly harbored hopes of forming a connection with him, and Edith’s position only sharpened their hostility.
“Brussels… Has anyone even heard of that family?”
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“She looked so arrogant on her wedding day, standing there as if she owned the place.”
“Her gaze was certainly bold.”
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A soft, measured voice cut through their chatter, and for a moment, silence fell over the group. Though her tone was polite, those present knew better.
‘She’s upset.’
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The young Lady of Valesia’s displeasure was palpable.
Edith Irene Brussels was already an unwelcome figure in noble society, but the harshness of her “initiation” into high society was exacerbated by the Valesia Lady herself, who harbored a particular dislike for her.
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The reasons behind the animosity were unclear; there didn’t seem to be any significant connection between the two. Yet, no one could deny that the young Lady of Valecia openly bore ill will toward the Duchess of Devion.
This was precisely why even nobles closely aligned with the emperor’s faction opted to skip the tea party hosted by Edith.
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While the young Lady of Valecia might not wield tremendous power herself, her protective father, the Duke of Valesia, and her notoriously temperamental mother ensured that few dared cross her.
Avoiding conflict with the young lady of the Valesia household and feigning ignorance of the Duchess of Devion’s tea party was, in truth, the most practical choice for many.
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After all, the emperor would hardly intervene in something as trivial as a tea party, and the Duke of Devion had long kept his distance from the social scene.
“Though I was unable to attend the tea party hosted by the Duchess of Devion, it feels far too cold to leave matters like this. I was thinking of holding a ball soon to properly welcome her.”
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Her youthful face wore a smile, but it was a smile devoid of warmth.
It was all too easy to predict that the upcoming ball at the Valesia estate would be a perilous event for the Duchess of Devion.
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