Duchess Mecklen’s Elegant Revolt - Chapter 5 Part 5

The day before the Harvest Festival, Eleanor found herself at the main palace on an errand for the Empress Dowager. Though she worried about possibly encountering the Emperor, there were no issues.

After completing her task, she paused for a moment to look up at the main palace. Somewhere within its walls, Lennoch was there. Thinking of him made her heart twinge with guilt, as if she were a criminal.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Meeting him would only reopen old wounds, she thought, and it was better not to see him at all.

She scanned the building with her eyes briefly before turning away. As she walked briskly back toward the West Palace, a stranger’s voice called out to her.

“Are you, by any chance, the Duchess of Mecklen?”

The voice was smooth and low, with an attractive tone. Eleanor stopped at the sound and turned to see who had addressed her.

“My name is Evan von Nestor. I’m the second son of the Nestor ducal house.”

“…I am Eleanor von Mecklen,” she responded.

Evan wasn’t particularly striking in his features, but there was a pleasing harmony to his appearance. His eyes, narrow like fine threads, curved into a smile as he looked at her, and Eleanor recognized him from the portraits she had seen of the Nestor family.

He didn’t resemble his older brother much at all.

“How is life in the palace treating you? The Empress Dowager speaks so highly of you that even I’ve heard the rumors.”

“Praises?” Eleanor wondered. Was the Empress Dowager really the type to go around praising me?

It seemed odd, but she answered Evan calmly, as he was waiting for a response. “Thank you. I’ve heard much about the second son of the Nestor family as well, and I see that the rumors of your kindness are true.”

“You flatter me. I’m pleased that you think of me so positively. If you’re free, may I offer you some tea?”

“No, I’m afraid I must decline. I have other matters to attend to,” Eleanor replied politely.

“That’s a shame. I was hoping to get to know you better,” Evan said, maintaining a friendly demeanor.

As she observed him, Eleanor realized that Evan was skilled in social interactions. He approached people with ease, making it difficult for them to respond coldly. He clearly understood how to make a favorable impression.

“Ernst and I were classmates at the academy.”

“Is that so?”

“If you’re curious about his time as a student, I’d be happy to share some stories. I’m always available.”

Evan was persistent, continuing the conversation with topics he thought might interest her. While his behavior was nothing but gentlemanly, Eleanor found him increasingly uncomfortable.

She couldn’t understand why he was so eager to engage with her.

‘He didn’t get along with Caroline,’ she recalled. She remembered Caroline’s irritated reactions whenever Evan’s letters arrived.

Eleanor forced a polite smile. “Thank you for the offer, but I wouldn’t want to impose. It’s reassuring to know you’re so welcoming.”

“Not at all. You’re the wife of my dear friend, so it’s no imposition at all.”

“Well then, I’ll take my leave,” Eleanor said, ending the conversation abruptly and giving a precise farewell that left Evan no room to continue.

As expected, Evan hesitated, awkwardly raising his hand. “…It was a pleasure to meet you, Duchess.”

Eleanor walked past Evan, continuing on her way. Though she felt a bit uneasy, she decided not to dwell on it any longer.

‘It’s not easy,’ she thought. One never knew whom they might encounter in the palace. While her conversation with Evan had been uneventful, memories of the unpleasant encounter with Marquis Neto and his group made her wary.

She paused for a moment, pressing her fingers to her temple as a sudden thought struck her.

‘Wait.’

Something felt off. Every noble she encountered seemed to recognize her instantly and addressed her by title. Though she belonged to a prominent family, was it really normal for nobles who had never met her, someone from a foreign kingdom, to recognize and approach her so easily without any introduction?

A strange unease crept down her spine. And then—

“Where are you headed?”

A voice suddenly spoke beside her, startling her. Eleanor let out a silent gasp, clutching her chest in shock, only to find Lennoch standing next to her, looking just as startled by her reaction.

“Oh no, I’m sorry. Did I frighten you?” Lennoch asked, concerned.

“Your Majesty…”

It seemed this man had a particular talent for catching her off guard. Her heart often raced whenever they met.

Trying to calm herself, Eleanor shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look well. I’ll call for a doctor,” Lennoch said, his voice filled with genuine worry.

“No, please don’t,” Eleanor replied, shaking her head slightly. It seemed too trivial a matter to call for a doctor.

Lennoch, respecting her wishes, dismissed the idea of summoning the court doctor.

“You must be busy these days,” he remarked, his tone casual. “I visited the West Palace recently, but you weren’t there, and I found myself wondering where you might be.”

Eleanor took a step away from Lennoch, trying to put some distance between them. “I apologize, Your Majesty. I know it’s bold of me to say this, but may I be excused? I need to report back to the Empress Dowager on the task she assigned me.”

“Why don’t we go together? I happen to have business there as well,” Lennoch suggested, though Eleanor could easily tell he was lying.

As he stepped closer, Eleanor instinctively moved back.

“……?”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” she said, her tone firm.

The distance between them remained unyielding. Lennoch could sense that something was different about Eleanor’s demeanor—she was distant, almost cold, in a way that she hadn’t been before.

She walked away, leaving him standing there, a sense of bewilderment etched on his face. He could feel her growing further and further away, not just physically but emotionally as well.

As Eleanor continued to walk, she noticed the soft sound of footsteps behind her. Every step she took, Lennoch matched, keeping pace with her as she tried to pull away.

Finally, Eleanor stopped and turned to face him. “Your Majesty, isn’t this a particularly busy time for you with state affairs?”

“I’ve finished everything,” Lennoch replied, though by now even his usual guards had been dismissed. It was clear he had something on his mind, something he wanted to say, but Eleanor had no interest in hearing it.

He spoke first, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Are you angry with me?”

“Why would you think that?”

“If you’re not, then why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m simply adhering to proper decorum. I am the Duchess of Mecklen, whom Your Majesty personally arranged a marriage for, I see no reason for us to have private meetings.”

Lennoch’s face fell, the hope in his eyes vanishing almost instantly.

“Unless, of course, there’s something you want from me, Your Majesty. I’ll assist you as much as I can within my capabilities, but if it’s beyond what I can do, I suggest you seek help elsewhere,” she added, her tone unwavering.

“I only wanted to—” Lennoch began but trailed off.

I only wanted to know what’s been troubling you, he thought but couldn’t bring himself to say aloud. Eleanor, however, was resolute in her refusal to open up to him.

A sharp, suffocating pain gripped his chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Only what?” Eleanor prompted, though she already felt a pang of guilt. Lennoch, with his pale complexion and defeated expression, looked almost like a condemned man.

But she steeled herself, unwilling to soften.

“…I’m sorry, Miss.”

“I’m not a miss; I’m the Duchess of Mecklen,” she corrected him.

“I know,” he acknowledged quietly.

With a resigned expression, Lennoch reached into his pocket and pulled out a key wrapped in a handkerchief. The key appeared ordinary at first glance, but on closer inspection, Eleanor noticed the imperial crest engraved on its head. It was fairly large, about the length of three fingers.

Eleanor stared at it, unsure of its purpose.

“This is the key to the East Palace. If you ever feel the need for a walk, feel free to use it,” Lennoch offered.

It was a reference to a conversation they’d had during a previous evening stroll when Lennoch had suggested they make the East Palace garden their secret hideaway. He had mentioned how a quiet place like that was ideal for clearing one’s mind.

It seemed that ever since then, Lennoch had been carrying the key with him, hoping to give it to her. The fact that he could produce it so quickly from his pocket, without prior arrangement, made that clear.

‘Why is he giving me this?’ Eleanor wondered. Was it out of simple curiosity? Was it an apology for the deception about his identity? Or was there another reason she wasn’t aware of?

Whatever the reason, her resolve to maintain her distance from him remained firm.

Eleanor shook her head. “I can manage on my own.”

“M…Duchess,” he corrected himself, catching the slip.

“I won’t be visiting the East Palace garden anymore,” she stated firmly, setting a clear boundary.

“This is as far as our relationship goes, Your Majesty,” she continued, her voice steady. “Please don’t extend your kindness to me any further.”

With that single sentence, the distance between them seemed to grow insurmountably vast.

As Eleanor resumed walking, Lennoch found himself unable to follow her. The swish of her dress as she walked away created a clear, physical divide between them.

Only after she had walked some distance did a pained whisper escape Lennoch’s lips, carried away by the wind.

“I believed I could do anything for you… But seems I still can’t give up.”