The Abandoned Princess, Yet She Is Loved - Chapter 37

“I… I…”

 

Lisetta felt uncomfortable under Grace’s clear gaze. More precisely, she felt ashamed.

 

“It was ugly jealousy.”

 

Lisetta had no choice but to admit it to herself. She had foolishly harbored feelings for someone who would never be hers and had envied Grace, the woman he had chosen. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Now she understood why the servants liked Grace so much. Even after becoming the Duchess—a position of nobility—Grace never tried to lord her status over others. Instead, she was thoughtful and considerate of those beneath her. Grace was mature and deeply considerate. All the things Lisetta had once seen as lacking or irritating had been misunderstandings.

 

“Lisetta.”

 

“Yes, my lady.”

 

“Um… have a seat for a moment.”

 

As they walked back to the carriage, Grace pointed to a simple bench along the road. Lisetta didn’t understand why, but she sat as instructed.

 

“Give me the box.”

 

Grace opened the jewelry box Lisetta had given her and took out an amber hairpin. She reached out and touched Lisetta’s hair. Before Lisetta could react, she felt Grace gently brush over the top of her head.

 

“Just as I thought… it looks lovely. Here, look.”

 

Grace took a mirror from the box and held it up to Lisetta’s face.

 

“When was the last time…?”

 

Lisetta stared blankly into the mirror, unfamiliar with her own reflection wearing a feminine hairpin. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn something like this.

 

“My lady, why are you giving this to me?”

 

“Because you’re beautiful… I just thought… it suited you.”

 

Grace smiled brightly.

 

“You’re pretty, Lisetta. I wanted to give you something pretty.”

 

“Me…?”

 

Lisetta felt as though she had been hit over the head. Pretty. It was a word she hadn’t heard in years—one she never associated with herself.

 

Her life was about training in swordsmanship, slaying enemies, and hunting monsters. She had no time to wear hairpins or look at herself in the mirror.

 

“Yes. You’re beautiful.”

 

Grace looked straight into Lisetta’s eyes.

 

“And… you’re amazing. I watched you train the other day.”

 

“……”

 

“You were incredible. They say being a female knight is difficult.”

 

Grace clasped her hands together as she spoke. Dorota had once said that someone with Lisetta’s skills was rare even in the entire empire.

 

As the compliments continued, Lisetta wanted to crawl into a hole. After all the prejudices she’d had toward Grace, receiving such kindness felt almost overwhelming.

 

“Thank you so much for today, Lisetta.”

 

“Is there really anything to thank me for?”

 

“Because of you… I was able to go out today.”

 

“That was the Duke’s order…”

 

It was just an order—anyone could’ve been assigned as her escort.

 

But Lisetta couldn’t continue. Grace’s face was practically glowing as she looked at her.

 

“I had a wonderful time today. Because of you, Lisetta.”

 

“……”

 

“You kept me safe.”

 

“But still… wouldn’t something like this be better given to the maids who serve you?”

 

Lisetta tried to change the subject to ease her own discomfort.

 

“I got some for them too—here.”

 

Grace lifted the box to show her.

 

“Oh, did you buy everything today just to give to the maids?”

 

“Yes. They… won’t accept jewelry.”

 

Grace gave a sheepish smile. The maids had flatly refused to take any real jewelry, so she thought maybe they’d accept simple accessories from the market.

 

“My lady, you continue to surprise me. You truly are the rightful mistress of Winstaine.”

 

Lisetta finally burst out laughing.

 

“Oh, you… laughed!”

 

Grace’s eyes widened. She had seen Lisetta many times before, but always with a cold expression. Seeing her smile—it was so warm, so bright.

 

“It’s thanks to you, my lady.”

 

Lisetta took Grace’s hand and kissed the back of it. She now felt she could gladly pledge her loyalty to this small, gentle hand.

 

“I look forward to serving you, my lady.”

 

Her face held both the strength of a knight and the softness of a woman, and she smiled at Grace.

 

 

Grace returned from the estate and fell asleep as if she’d collapsed—without even eating dinner.

 

“She must’ve walked around a lot.”

 

Frederick, who had eaten dinner alone, came in and looked down at her sleeping face. She must’ve changed quickly, because her nightgown was slipping off one shoulder.

 

“……”

 

He pulled the fabric back up to cover her shoulder. Grace didn’t even stir, sleeping peacefully with a serene expression.

 

With her eyes closed, she looked as innocent as a child. Her pale face appeared softer than usual. Frederick, gazing at her, reached out without realizing it.

 

“Mmm…?”

 

At the sound of Grace shifting in her sleep, Frederick quickly pulled his hand back.

 

“What am I doing?”

 

It had been a spontaneous impulse. Embarrassed, his ears flushed red.

 

They hadn’t even spent their wedding night together.

 

When Frederick first discovered that Grace’s mental state was almost childlike, he stopped thinking about producing an heir.

 

He believed that they should only become intimate once she had developed enough understanding—once she could truly comprehend a marital relationship.

 

“There’s no need to rush.”

 

Frederick sighed as he lay down on the bed.

 

He didn’t intend to touch her unnecessarily before the time was right.

 

They were still young. Having a child recklessly wouldn’t mean anything if they couldn’t raise it properly. So, there was no need for any of this now.

 

But still… why had he suddenly reached for her face?

 

“Something feels off today.”

 

Frederick quickly closed his eyes. The only way to escape this strange feeling was to fall asleep.

 

 

Spring rain was falling.

 

Grace stared blankly out the window. The rain tapped against the glass, leaving tiny droplets that slowly slid down.

 

After putting the fox to bed, she hadn’t picked up a book or drawn a picture—things she usually enjoyed. She had just been sitting there, lost in thought.

 

“A situation where one can’t afford art…”

 

Grace kept thinking about what the mother of the boy who stole the painting had said during their visit to the estate. That owning art was more than a few months’ worth of living expenses.

 

“…That’s so sad.”

 

Grace let out a sigh.

 

To want a painting but not be able to afford it because it was too expensive—that was indeed a sad reality. Especially because she remembered the joy she had felt when she first discovered the world of art.

 

That was why she had given the painting to the boy. She wanted both the boy and his mother, who had never owned a piece of art, to experience the joy it could bring.

 

“Dorota.”

 

“Yes, my lady?”

 

“Why… is art… expensive?”

 

It was still morning, just after breakfast, when Grace called Dorota and asked.

 

“Well, first of all, because it costs money to make. Painters need canvases and easels, and they use a lot of paper, pencils, and paint. Most people already struggle just to afford bread, meat, and milk.”

 

“Ohh…”

 

“Even so, the prices are still too high. If it costs about 400 Derks to make a painting, it sells for around 6,000.”

 

“Then do the artists… get a lot?”

 

Though the numbers—400 Derks and 6,000 Derks—were unfamiliar to her, she could tell that the profit margin was huge.

 

“No, the artists in this estate don’t make much money. It’s the middlemen who drive the prices up.”

 

“Mid…dlemen?”

 

“When an artist finishes a painting, they don’t sell it directly at the market. There are middlemen who take the paintings and sell them. Usually, two people are involved—a middleman, and then the vendor who actually sells it.”

 

Dorota held up both index fingers.

 

“That’s how the price skyrockets. For example, an artist sells a painting to a middleman for 500 Derks, the middleman sells it for 2,000, and then the vendor sells it at the market for 6,000. So the artist doesn’t get much. It’s the middlemen and vendors who take most of the profit.”

 

“Isn’t that… unfair?”