I’ve Decided to Let You Go - Chapter 71

Perhaps Natasha didn’t want to open Bluebeard’s door either. She didn’t push Sieghart, who had chosen to hide the truth.

The moment that once demanded a confession quietly faded away.

Afterward, Natasha slowly calmed down with Sieghart by her side. She cried herself to sleep, exhausted and barely able to keep her eyes open.

The voice never returned.

What was supposed to be a long, heavy day passed by more quickly than expected.

The next morning, Natasha woke to warm sunlight streaming into the room. It seemed Sieghart had opened all the curtains before he left.

On the bedside table were a teacup and a neatly placed letter. Since the tea was still warm, he must have stepped out not long ago.

“Wishing my lady a peaceful day.”

The message written on the front of the envelope caught her eye. Coming from the man who probably understood better than anyone that today wouldn’t be peaceful, it almost made her smile.

Still, just as Sieghart had hoped, Natasha felt calmer than she had the day before.

She opened the letter. Inside, Sieghart had laid out his schedule in detail. He even included clear instructions on where to find him or whom to contact if she needed him.

After reading it through, Natasha placed the letter back on the table. She set the empty teacup carefully on its saucer.

Stretching her arms, she finally pulled the bell cord.

“D-Did you call for me, my lady?”

A maid arrived shortly, speaking in a quiet, uncertain voice.

Having stayed in bed for so long, Natasha had avoided interacting with the staff for quite some time.

Occasionally, she would pull the bell cord by accident, and the staff had often come only to find there was no need for their help.

The maid likely thought this was another one of those mistaken calls.

But when the duchess gave a clear response, the maid’s eyes widened, and she rushed into the room, flustered.

“W-What can I do for you? Please, just say the word!”

Yesterday had been one of the worst days for the duchess. The maid doubted she had fully recovered overnight and couldn’t help but be on edge.

She was nervous—afraid the duchess might issue an unusual or irrational request in her distressed state.

“It’s nothing serious. I just need help getting dressed.”

To the maid’s surprise, Natasha’s voice was calm, and her request was perfectly normal.

Even her tone was gentler than usual.

Is she really okay?

The maid hesitated, still unsure. She didn’t want to act too quickly and make a mistake.

But then she saw the soft smile on Natasha’s face—and that was enough.

“Of course, my lady. I’d be happy to help!”

The maid soon returned with a few others.

Natasha wasn’t going anywhere, just changing from her nightclothes into something more comfortable. Even so, several maids came to assist her, chatting cheerfully as they worked to lift the mood.

They mentioned how beautifully she had looked in the bright, floral dress she wore the last time she had tea in the garden. Eager to bring that spirit back, they suggested trying something new today as well.

“Shall we try it?” Natasha asked.

“Yes! You looked absolutely radiant that day! Oh, and we just received a new dress under your name recently. Would you like to try it on, even just for fun?”

“Trying on a dress just to stay inside? That’s a bit much, don’t you think? Even if it doesn’t suit me, I’ll still wear it. Just bring it quickly, will you? I remembered there’s something I need to handle this morning.”

“Yes, my lady! I’ll be right back!”

The maid who had been the most enthusiastic quickly gathered the others and headed to the dressing room.

Once Natasha was dressed and feeling refreshed, she made her way to her private study.

Come to think of it, it had been over a week since she’d last been there. Yet somehow, returning to it now felt both unfamiliar and strangely comforting.

“Could you call for Jenkins on your way back?” she asked.

“Yes, of course. I hope you have a wonderful day, my lady!”

“Thank you. Same to you.”

The room, though showing no sign of its master returning anytime soon, had been kept spotless. Even when Natasha ran her fingers across the surface of the table without thinking, not a single speck of dust clung to them.

She brought over her notebook and fountain pen, placing them squarely in the center of the desk. From the second drawer, she retrieved her glasses and carefully wiped the lenses with a cloth.

Perfect. She slipped them on, satisfied with the clear and focused world now in view.

Just then, Jenkins arrived. After three polite knocks, he entered the room and bowed respectfully.

“My lady, I was told you called for me.”

“Yes, Jenkins. I’d like to check the ducal household’s schedule. Are there any major events planned over the next month?”

“No, my lady. Nothing significant is scheduled.”

“Good. That means we’ll be able to carry out my plan without complications.”

Natasha smiled subtly, then continued.

“I’m thinking of hosting a Harvest Festival.”

“A Harvest Festival, my lady?”

“Yes. Every influential family across the Empire has either hosted or contributed to one. The House of Aschart may be the only one that hasn’t. We’ve turned our backs on the Empire’s traditions, and we’re alone in that.”

During Emperor Kail Letius’s reign, Victory Day had become the most celebrated festival across the Empire. The fact that the Aschart household hadn’t participated at all had drawn more than a little concern.

Even worse, the Imperial Family had hosted an extravagant celebration at the palace, proudly showcasing their accomplishments. The duchy couldn’t afford to fall behind any further.

“You don’t need to worry, my lady—”

“No, this is about more than just appearances. It’s about pride.”

She could no longer bear to see the front pages of newspapers dominated by Imperial propaganda.

She didn’t want to read one more article about how beloved the palace celebration was, or how much praise and admiration the Empire had received from foreign kingdoms and principalities.

But she couldn’t exactly burn every paper in circulation. Nor could she threaten the press to stop printing flattering articles about the Emperor.

So, she made a decision—to shift the public’s attention toward the achievements of the ducal house.

Last year, they had hosted a countryside banquet. This year, it would be the Harvest Festival.

And because the House of Aschart was a little late to join, the delay could work in their favor—they might even steal the spotlight.

Jenkins noticed the determined spark in the Duchess’s eyes and gave up trying to talk her out of it. At this point, it was best to make it an official matter within the estate.

Fueled by Natasha’s passion, Jenkins promised to secure Duke Sieghart Aschart’s approval. He hurried out and soon returned, waving a signed document bearing the Duke’s seal.

“Do you have a draft or an outline for the festival, my lady? If we have a general idea, I can help fine-tune the details.”

“Victory Day became a major cultural celebration because people were genuinely involved. The same goes for the Harvest Festival. It’s the people’s interest and participation that keeps these traditions alive.”

“I agree, my lady. In that case, perhaps we could ask His Holiness the Pope for a formal blessing again?”

“People revere His Holiness like a divine figure because he rarely appears outside the temple. If he’s seen too often, that reverence may fade. He wouldn’t benefit from being brought into the public eye again so soon.”

Jenkins nodded, realizing his mistake.

She was right. Last year, they at least had a meaningful reason—appointing an honorary knight. This year, they had no such justification. If not careful, the Church could be seen as a political tool.

“Is there another estate in the capital we can use instead of the countryside?”

“Yes, there is one. It’s a bit smaller than the villa we used for the last event, but still quite suitable.”

“That should be fine. Still, I’ll need full details—square footage, number of rooms, how many guests it can hold, and so on.”

“I’ll get on it right away.”

Jenkins moved efficiently. There wasn’t any real urgency, but something about the moment made his steps quicken.

It had been a long time since the estate had felt this busy. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, Natasha felt strangely invigorated. A dangerous thought even crossed her mind. Even if I work myself to death, I’d die happy.

The festival would be hosted by the House of Aschart, but other noble families from the North would collaborate.

Financial aid wasn’t necessary, but since the event was meant to represent the entire northern region—not just the duchy, it wouldn’t be right for the Ascharts to handle everything alone.

While the Ascharts would provide the venue and manage planning, the other nobles would contribute goods and funds.

The location was set: the Aschart family’s city estate.

The building turned out to be larger than expected, allowing them to carry out both major parts of the festival as originally planned. Each event would be held in a separate, clearly defined area.

The largest room would be transformed into a prayer hall, where farmers could give thanks for the year’s harvest and pray for prosperity in the coming year. Inside, a small donation box—tastefully decorated—would also be placed.

Some distance away, a banquet hall would be arranged for dining. Guests would enjoy a buffet offering a variety of dishes.

As Natasha considered how to gather supplies from cooperating noble families, another idea came to her—a charity auction for the attending aristocrats.

Half the funds raised would go toward hosting the festival, while the other half would be used to buy grain for Imperial citizens facing a cold and difficult winter.

She compiled everything into a proposal and handed it to Jenkins. He read it carefully, then broke into a wide smile and applauded.

“My lady, this is incredible. You’ve planned the whole thing in such a short time. I’ll make a few small adjustments and submit the final draft to the Duke for approval.”

Support