What’s Wrong with You, Duke?!

Chapter 10

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“You haven’t gone to the village in a while. Do you want to go to the market?” asked Mary.

“I’m going to stay in the greenhouse today,” replied Noël.

“Are you sick, Your Grace?”

“No, I’m all right.”

“It just seems like you are out of energy these days. Is there something on your mind?”

Looking at Mary’s concerned face, Noël felt tired of the things she couldn’t talk about. I think I might be divorced or burned alive, Mary. The duke doesn’t seem to believe me even though I explained. She felt wronged. It was Duke Dreux Alexei of Faucigny who had dragged her to the castle in the first place and begged her to marry him. Now he was completely treating her like a criminal. Every time he pushed her, she felt overwhelming resentment.

It had been a few days since they started using separate rooms in a fit of anger. She refused to let the duke into bed because she was scared of him transforming there, and Ru didn’t press the subject if she said no. She was ashamed of how much she missed him, to the point where she felt like she was dying, even as her actual life was threatened. It hurt that he only worked these days and never came to see her.

“Oh, I heard His Grace was going to Port Chambrun today. What about going with him?” Mary suggested.

“No. I don’t want to disturb him when he’s working.”

“Bother him? He will definitely love it if you go with him, Your Grace.”

Ru would, but what about Dreux? She couldn’t make him go through the trouble of killing her when he was busy working. Noël pouted and was about to trudge over to the greenhouse but stopped. She turned back to Mary and mumbled, “It wouldn’t be a bother if I just watched from afar, right?”

“Of course not, Your Grace!”

In the end, Mary convinced Noël to go out to the port the duke would be inspecting.

“Wow, it’s so big.”

“Your husband’s achievements are truly amazing, but you don’t have much interest in his business, do you?”

“That’s because I don’t understand it,” Noël answered, skirting the question and laughing awkwardly. If she was being honest, she was interested in all things related to him, but if she revealed that too rashly she might be considered greedy, so she kept it to herself.

The port was an hour’s carriage ride away and was no different from a small city. Boats as big as houses dotted the shoreline by the vast ocean, and the streets were full of carriages and carts. Noël pressed a hand to the scarf around her head, fighting against the strong ocean wind, and continuously looked around her.

“It would have been good if we had accompanied His Grace in coming here. He would have been so happy,” Mary said.

“Then it would have taken at least half the day to get ready. There’s too much to prepare for leaving the castle as the duchess.”

“That’s true.”

Noël had dressed as a commoner once again, just as she had when she went to the market. She hadn’t gone to the port for a tour, but instead simply wished to see the duke. It was more accurate to say she wanted to watch him without him knowing. She wanted to see for herself who he really was when she wasn’t around, something that was impossible within the castle.

“People will disembark all at once from the ships that have just docked, so you have to be careful,” said Mary as she guided her mistress, adding how she had come a few times with her friends.

For a moment, Noël was jealous of the smart, resourceful maid. If she had a mind like Mary’s, she might have already come up with an idea to deal with her situation. Looking at this critically made Noël think she was pretty dull, a happy-go-lucky girl without any sort of plan. Oh, that’s depressing, she thought as she looked around.

“I can see His Grace there,” Mary exclaimed, pointing at the crowds of people coming off the ship. “I keep saying this, but he is such a handsome man. He’s so eye-catching, even from far away!”

Mary was right. Even though he was surrounded by his knights and other people, his striking height, lithe body, and elegant features were the most eye-catching compared to the rest of them. Young women glanced at him in groups of two and three, hovering nearby. When Noël’s eyes widened in shock at the women, Mary chortled.

“You must be so happy, Your Grace. Truthfully, any man in his position would have at least two or three concubines, but he only has eyes for you. Look, he’s not giving any of them even a glance back.”

And you’re sure he’s not treating them as less than human? Noël muttered silently to herself as she watched the duke carefully, noting how he looked like he was posing as stared out into the distance. She watched as he jerked his head or flicked his finger, ordering his people around half-heartedly, and ignoring his advisors, who were attempting to discuss their work with him—even those who were bowing to him obsequiously escaped his notice. If she were a stranger to him, she would think he looked extremely cold and haughty, which was generous if she thought about her own first impression of him.

So, this is what his personality was normally like. He isn’t just aggressive toward me. If I were in his position, I would be suspicious too, Noël thought, trying to console herself. As she watched the duke, she noticed despite his disposition, he still seemed somewhat dashing. Setting aside his good looks, he was dominating the energy of the crowd with his overwhelming presence as a conqueror.

“Oh my, it’s the Golden Bee Viscount!” Mary suddenly clapped a hand to her mouth and let out a near silent scream. She looked back in a hurry and saw the blonde man walking toward them with a large sack on his shoulder. He passed by them quickly, stopped, and came back to stand in front of them.

“Oh, ladies. We’ve met before, haven’t we?” he greeted.

Mary hesitated but knew that she couldn’t ignore a greeting from a nobleman. After gauging Noël’s reaction, she finally said, “Hello.”

“Oh, do you recognize me?” he asked, a bright smile spreading across his face as his eyes darted back and forth between them.

Noël and Mary felt it the last time they saw him as well, but he really was a handsome man. Like the last time they’d seen him, the viscount was wearing somewhat casual clothing with a few shirt buttons undone and his sleeves pushed up.

Mary nodded as Noël avoided his gaze and looked somewhere else. Then the viscount let the sack on his shoulder fall to the ground with a thump, and said politely, “It is fate that we’ve met again, so won’t you do me the honor of telling me your name? I am Viscount Alexande Bellême, the second son of Count Bellême.” Unlike how he spoke to them the last time, this time he spoke formally, as if he were speaking to a lady of nobility.

Noël hesitated, and simply bobbed her head at his recognition that she was a noblewoman. It was near impossible for her status to be revealed in these clothes, but the man’s gaze was stubborn and showed no signs of budging, so she prodded Mary because she had no talent for lying. “Shouldn’t we go now?”

“Oh, of course. Then please excuse us, Viscount.”

Mary looked like she was struggling as she said goodbye to the man and led Noël away. But the man they ignored followed them, and asked politely, “Have I overstepped and acted rudely, good lady?”

Noël just blinked at him. He was a strange man. Truthfully, she had tried hard to not meet any nobles after she arrived in Rouergue. She stayed in the castle, claiming homesickness and plain illness, and thanks to the duke’s kindness, she had never met any outsiders. This was because she had been constantly looked down on as an illegitimate daughter—even in a small land such as Saboulin—and she’d had such bad experiences when it came to the nature of nobles. She had heard the class gap was even more distinct in Rouergue.

But from the first time she saw this man—even when Noël was dressed like a commoner and Mary was a maid—he always treated them well. If he was the esteemed son of the count, then he wasn’t of low status either. Did this man have an obstacle to his status like her? Or perhaps he really was kind to all women, like the rumors said.

Noël answered cautiously, “No, it’s fine. It’s just that I’m not in a situation to introduce myself properly.” With the way she was dressed, a formal introduction would not be ideal.

After bowing to the viscount, she started to walk away. Absently looking in the duke’s direction, she saw something that made her eyes go wide. Just moments ago he had been standing there, looking bored with his aide. Now, however, he was there with another woman holding his attention.

The way he bowed at the waist to kiss her hand was very proper. The woman looked so comfortable, as if it was only natural for him to greet her like that. She was the epitome of beauty with her blindingly blonde hair, slender body, and extravagant yet elegant dress.

Mary, who followed behind Noël, saw where she was looking and gasped quietly. “Why is she... All the way here...?”

Noël overheard her mutterings and bit her lip. Ah, so she was a woman the duke was acquainted with. But, what were they to each other?!

The duke led the woman down by the hand and escorted her toward them. The sight was so tender that it made them appear as though they were a pair of lovers. Moreover, Noël couldn’t believe her eyes when he smiled so broadly at someone other than her. The duke was aloof, like a birch tree in the middle of winter, so Noël had never seen such a tender side to him—this was shocking to her.

She was dumbstruck. She clenched her fists and Mary noticed, but all she could do was open and close her mouth repeatedly. It looked like Mary had something to say, but she was hesitating, whether or not it was something she should say. The viscount, whom the women ignored, spoke to them from a step behind.

“So you were interested in His Grace, the duke. Oh, there’s Lady Margot Adélaïde as well. Why is she here, so far away from home?”

“Lady Margot Adélaïde?”

The viscount said her name familiarly, so Noël whipped around so fast her skirts made a whooshing sound. When the man saw the whites of her wide eyes, he looked a little surprised, but it changed into a grin. “Are you more interested in beautiful women, rather than handsome men like me?”

What? He was speaking nonsense. Noël huffed and looked back toward the duke, then turned around again in a flurry, shocked at how much closer he had gotten to them.

“Let’s hurry back.” She grabbed Mary by the arm in one hand and her skirts in another, getting ready to make a run for it, but the scarf around her head came undone.

“Ah!”

Mary tried to grab the slip of fabric, but the strong ocean winds whisked it away. The viscount started into a run and yelled, “I shall bring it back for you!”

“It’s fine!” she shouted, but he was already far away.

It just so happened it flew toward the duke’s procession. The duke stopped in his tracks as the viscount ran in his direction.

Noël hurriedly turned around, facing away from the duke and the woman by his side. It would be strange to run away now when it wasn’t like she had committed a crime, but pointedly showing others she knew him was a matter of dignity. It would have been possible if he was alone, but he wasn’t, so she had to be dignified.

While she was considering her options, the viscount, who picked up her scarf a few steps away from the duke, greeted him loudly, “Your Grace.”

The duke gave him a fleeting glance mid-conversation with the woman, looking annoyed, and ignored him. Then all of a sudden, he jerked his head around and stared directly at Noël. She had been stealing glances at him from time to time, but it was so glaring, she could almost feel it. Mary stopped walking next to her and quickly curtsied.

The duke was scanning her from head to toe, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. Noël couldn’t ignore it when she saw his eyes—she knew the magic was broken. This was a huge problem.

“What’s going on?” The duke stalked over to her with a furrow in his brow.

Noël saw his cold eyes and struggled to open her mouth. His eyes were too cold and too vicious for her to say hello. She wanted to escape, but the duke stood in front of her and crossed his arms. He stared at her directly.

“My lord, I-”

“Is she an acquaintance of yours, my lord?” the woman asked.

While Noël was stammering, Lady Adélaïde followed the duke and stood beside him. She was even more beautiful up close—her dress and even her jewelry were of the highest quality. For the first time ever, Noël regretted wearing her disguise of commoner clothing.

Lady Adélaïde placed a delicate hand, covered in a snow-white glove, on the duke’s arm. It was as if she was showing off. The woman ran her eyes up and down Noël and smirked.

Noël was speechless from the sharp jealousy and sense of inferiority. She truly didn’t want to reveal the fact that she was the duke’s wife here. She was too embarrassed about her comparatively shabby clothes.

She took a moment to think but decided to pretend to be an unmarried maiden. “My name is Noël Montbelliard.” Belatedly, she realized she had made a mistake, but it was after the fact.

“Oh?” The duke let out a short mocking laugh.

Not only did Mary give her a strange look from beside her at the overreaching remark, but Viscount Cecil also looked at her strangely. Noël turned her head away to avoid these looks—she wanted to sink into the ground from embarrassment. Her eyes met Viscount Bellême’s by accident, and he took a step forward as if to protect her.

“The lady is shy, she's quite charming. Unlike you, blatantly trying to seduce a man. Don’t you think so, Lady Adélaïde?”