Duchess Mecklen’s Elegant Revolt - Chapter 2 Part 2

The man was engaged in conversation with another gentleman clad in a crisp black tailcoat. When Eleanor recognized the man standing beside him, her eyes widened in shock.

‘Eger von Nestor.’

He was one of the most renowned figures from the prestigious Nestor family of Baden. A genius who had graduated at the top of the Imperial Academy. The Empress Dowager herself had attempted to appoint him to oversee the imperial finances, but he had chosen to serve as the Emperor’s aide instead. In other words, he was a high-ranking noble, not someone commonly seen in a district filled with boutiques.

“……!”

Perhaps she had been staring too intently, because the masked man suddenly locked eyes with her. Eleanor, feeling awkward and exposed, offered a tentative smile, as if she had been caught doing something wrong.

She noticed that the man’s previously composed lips had stiffened, and she wondered, ‘Did I offend him?’

With his face obscured by the mask, it was impossible to gauge his exact expression. Lowering her gaze, Eleanor soon realized that the man’s black shoes had moved close to her. She looked up to find him standing directly in front of her.

“Pardon me,” the man said. Contrary to her expectations, his voice was unexpectedly gentle.

As Eleanor looked up at him, she noticed a faint smile on his lips. Realizing her earlier lapse in decorum, she quickly stood and offered a slight curtsy.

“My apologies. I was out of line,” she said.

“Not at all. It’s no offense,” he responded, shaking his head lightly before she could finish her apology. It seemed he hadn’t approached her to demand an apology.

“I was concerned that my abrupt departure earlier might have upset you, so I came to check on you,” he explained.

“Oh, that… I’m fine,” Eleanor replied softly, her tone carrying a quiet dignity despite its softness.

The man’s smile remained as he noted the grace in her words. “I’m glad to hear that. But, where is the person you were with earlier?”

Caroline.

The mention of the Duchess Dowager’s name caused Eleanor’s expression to tighten briefly before she quickly regained her composure. “We parted ways due to some circumstances.”

“Are you alone, then?”

It was a natural question, given that it was unusual for a noblewoman to be out without an escort. Eleanor hesitated, unsure of how to respond. She couldn’t think of an immediate excuse.

“…I plan to return shortly,” she finally said. The matter was too personal and complex to explain, not something she could easily share, especially with someone she barely knew. It was a situation that would be difficult for anyone, no matter who, to fully understand in this foreign empire.

As Eleanor fell silent, choosing not to elaborate further, the man behind the mask furrowed his brow slightly.

“If you don’t mind, I could escort you back to your residence,” he offered.

“…Pardon?” Eleanor’s eyes widened at the unexpected offer. She had been prepared to brush it off as a joke, but the man’s serious expression left no room for doubt.

Eleanor’s discomfort was evident. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Does the idea trouble you?” he asked, noticing her hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, her voice polite but firm.

Realizing that Eleanor wanted to leave the situation, the man glanced around. The midday sun was still high, and the street was bustling with a fair number of nobles. Although not all of them were paying attention, some did glance curiously in their direction as they passed by.

“I see,” the man murmured, understanding her subtle yet clear refusal. He recognized that Eleanor was likely concerned about the scandalous rumors that could arise from being seen with a masked man. More than that, he realized that Eleanor was not as free as she might have appeared.

The fact that she was so worried about the potential gossip suggested she was under significant restrictions. Perceptively piecing together the situation, the man’s gaze lingered on Eleanor’s composed face.

“I’m Lennoch.”

‘Lennoch?’

The name echoed in Eleanor’s mind, imprinting itself there. Although it was the first time she had heard this name, there was an odd sense of familiarity about the man—Lennoch—as if she were meeting someone she hadn’t seen in a long time. Yet, there was also a cautious air about him, something reserved and hesitant, as evidenced by his hand, awkwardly extended and then withdrawn, as if unsure of how to proceed.

He was a curious figure, embodying such conflicting emotions at once.

Just then, Eger, who had been standing a distance away, approached them. Eger was slightly shorter than the man who called himself Lennoch.

“Is everything alright?” Eger asked. His face matched the portrait Eleanor had memorized—soft features, pale skin, and a gentle look that suggested fragility. But beneath that exterior, Eger was known to be a stern and exacting man.

Eger glanced at Lennoch and then back at Eleanor, as if silently asking who she was. Sensing the unspoken question, Eleanor spoke first.

“…I am Eleanor von Mecklen.”

She hesitated, wondering how they would react if they realized she was a princess of Hartmann. There was only one young woman in the Mecklen family who could bear that name, and Eleanor instinctively watched Eger’s eyes, searching for signs of disdain, mockery, or avoidance—the typical reactions she had encountered from most people in her past life when they learned who she was.

Would it be the same this time?

She remained on guard, recalling how, in her previous life, she had never directly encountered these unfamiliar men.

However, instead of the expected reaction, Eger’s gaze shifted back to Lennoch.

“I thought perhaps Lennoch had made a mistake.”

“Mistake?”

“Well…”

Eger began to speak but quickly fell silent as he noticed Lennoch’s eyes crinkle slightly with amusement behind the mask.

“It seems the mistake is yours, not mine,” Lennoch remarked with a teasing tone.

“…My apologies.”

Eger chastised himself internally. He had come over to criticize Lennoch, thinking it inappropriate for him to be casually conversing with a lady while trying to conceal his identity with a mask. But now, upon realizing that the lady was none other than the princess of Hartmann, he was relieved he hadn’t rashly mentioned Lennoch’s identity.

Realizing his near blunder, Eger smoothly shifted the conversation. “Ah, so you are the Duchess of Mecklen.”

“……”

“My apologies for not introducing myself first.”

As Eger bowed slightly, Eleanor, still tense, reflexively returned the gesture with a small curtsy. It was the first time in Baden that anyone had apologized to her.

To her surprise, Eleanor forgot to say that it was alright.

Eger, noticing her silence, shot a quick glance at Lennoch, as if seeking guidance.

“Why do you insist on doing things you normally wouldn’t? You startled me,” Eger whispered to Lennoch, but Eleanor caught the words easily enough.

‘What an odd pair,’ she thought.

She couldn’t quite grasp the relationship between Eger von Nestor and the masked Lennoch. They didn’t seem to be brothers, and the formal air between them suggested they weren’t mere friends.

However, Eleanor decided not to delve too deeply into their relationship. She had enough on her mind with Caroline.

She lifted her skirts slightly and offered a polite farewell. “I should be going now.”

Not wanting to give them a chance to stop her, Eleanor smoothly stepped away. For a brief moment, she considered asking them to accompany her and reveal Caroline’s true nature, but she quickly dismissed the idea as futile.

The Nestor family was closely tied to the Baden imperial family. She, on the other hand, was a princess from Hartmann who had been in Baden for barely a month. Who would Nestor believe more—Caroline, the Duchess Dowager of Mecklen with her unwavering loyalty to the Baden Empire, or a foreign princess married into the family?

‘Yes, there’s no comparison.’

In her previous life and even now, Caroline had always been a meticulous and cunning woman. She wouldn’t be so easily exposed, especially not to someone as influential as Nestor.

As Eleanor made her way back, her steps grew heavier with each passing moment. She clenched the folds of her dress tightly, her hands growing damp with sweat, though she barely noticed.

“Madam.”

The voice that called out to her made Eleanor stop in her tracks. Lennoch, whom she thought she had successfully shaken off, was now beside her, looking unusually anxious.

He stepped forward to face her.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, may I make a request?”

“What is it you wish to say?”

“Please give me some of your time.”

“Time?”

“Just a little. Even just enough for a cup of tea would be sufficient.”

And then he added, “I understand what concerns you, Madam.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened slightly. She couldn’t fathom what Lennoch’s intentions were in making such a statement.

Lennoch continued speaking without pause. “I can take you to a place where you won’t have to worry about anyone watching us. There’s a location I know, a place where we can talk freely.”

A shiver ran down her spine. Somehow, this man, Lennoch, had already discerned what was troubling her. It was unsettling—his insight went beyond what she could dismiss as mere intuition.

Eleanor found herself unable to hide the tension that was now evident on her face.

***

The Baden Imperial Palace was home to many gardens, both large and small. The garden of the West Palace, where the Empress Dowager resided, was the most renowned for its size and grandeur, though it was rarely opened to others, even the noblewomen of the court. Only a select few had ever stepped inside.

The next most famous garden was in the Main Palace, where the Emperor resided. While the garden of the West Palace was filled with roses and an array of vibrant flowers, the Emperor’s garden was dominated by trees. Though it lacked the floral splendor, there was a certain charm in the precisely arranged paths lined with ornamental trees.

And the third most notable garden…

“Lennoch,” Eleanor called out hesitantly.

“Yes, what is it?” Lennoch replied.

“Where are we?” Eleanor asked, her face openly reflecting her discomfort as she glanced back from the window. There were three people in the carriage, which swayed with every bump in the road—Lennoch, Eleanor, and Eger.

“This is the East Palace, where the former Empress resided,” Eger answered in Lennoch’s stead. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger, letting out a soft sigh.

“Forgive me for being blunt, but it would be best if you didn’t speak of this place to anyone outside,” Eger added cautiously.

Eleanor quickly understood the source of Eger’s concern. The mere mention of the former Empress’s palace was enough to explain everything.

She turned her gaze back to the window, her expression one of disbelief. The rapidly passing scenery was unlike anything found in the more common areas of the palace.

Indeed, an ordinary noble would never be allowed into this place.

Eleanor began to piece together the identity of the mysterious man in the mask, Lennoch.

‘Imperial family…’