I No Longer Have Love to Offer You - Chapter 35

Lily Primrose, Mirabelle’s first client, was the daughter of a count. She had married into an earl’s family fifteen years her senior immediately after graduating from finishing school. While age-gap marriages weren’t uncommon among nobility, a fifteen-year difference was still unusual.

(It happened after graduation, and I was too preoccupied with my own affairs to know the details, but it clearly wasn’t a normal marriage.)

When marital conditions differed significantly from the norm, there was usually some underlying reason. Large age gaps like this typically indicated such circumstances.

The Primrose family wasn’t particularly renowned for industry or achievements, but their lineage was ancient. However, long-established families didn’t always produce competent heads, and the current lord had accumulated debts across the capital.

In contrast, her husband’s family had recently been elevated from viscount to earl. While their economic contributions to the nation had earned them this promotion, old aristocratic houses often looked down on newly elevated peers. The nobility remained an insular society.

So how could new families gain acceptance?

Naturally, proving their worth through merit was the ideal path but that took time. Ultimately, the quickest solution was to marry into an established lineage.

True to form, the Primrose family had agreed to Lily’s marriage in exchange for financial assistance. Whatever treatment she received in her marital home; they would have no grounds to protest.

(It’s always women who become the sacrificial lambs for their families.)

In a sense, they were like assets cultivated through years of investment. Assets to be sold at their peak value. To their families, this was simply logical.

(Of course, not all young ladies face such fates, nor are sons necessarily privileged.)

With these thoughts, Mirabelle awaited Lily’s arrival.

Soon, a carriage appeared at the dormitory entrance.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Mirabelle greeted with a smile as Lily stepped down holding a single bag.

“I’ll be in your care from today,” Lily replied with a bow. Though thin and weary, her peridot eyes held quiet determination.

Her pink-gold hair, which should have gleamed, appeared dull from neglect. The dress she wore was surprisingly plain for a countess.

(Last time we met, her dress was outdated too. And only one bag.)

Mirabelle recalled leaving the Hylas residence with just one bag herself though her dresses had been proper. The memory strengthened her resolve.

(Today marks a new beginning.)

“Your room is on the third floor, Miss Lily,” she said pointedly.

Lily remained technically married, warranting the title “Lady” with her husband’s surname. But Mirabelle deliberately used her maiden name with the honorific “Miss” signifying that by coming here, Lily had severed ties with that house.

“For now, you’re our only noble resident on the third floor. The second floor houses commoners, while the dining hall on the first floor is open to all. If this concerns you, please be mindful.”

As they climbed the stairs, Mirabelle explained the dormitory’s layout.

“I’m the one being accommodated here. I’ll take care not to disturb the others.”

As Mirabelle anticipated, Lily dismissed sharing space with commoners as inconsequential compared to her situation.

“What worries me more is whether I can pay my boarding fees and expenses. As I mentioned, I couldn’t bring anything of value with me.”

Indeed, Lily wore no jewelry, and her bag likely contained only essentials. A fact established during their prior discussions.

“Don’t trouble yourself. We’ll review the arrangements and next steps once we reach your room.”

As Mirabelle finished speaking, they arrived at Lily’s door.