Duchess Mecklen’s Elegant Revolt - Chapter 6 Part 2

“Do you like champagne?” Childe asked, his voice smooth and charming.

“It’s not bad,” Eleanor replied nonchalantly.

“Then allow me,” he said, gesturing to a passing attendant. “Just hand over the whole tray.”

“S-sorry?” The flustered attendant couldn’t do much but hand over the tray as Childe took it from him.

With a playful smile, he turned back to Eleanor. “I’m quite fond of champagne myself.”

“…You have a magnum.”

“There won’t be any attendants bothering us on the balcony.”

The reason for this was simple: the balcony was often regarded as a place for private conversations, away from prying eyes. Childe, however, didn’t explain this to Eleanor; instead, he glanced at her with a knowing look.

‘This is easier than I thought,’ Childe mused.

Recently, Childe had received a mysterious offer. The person who made the proposal remained unknown, their identity concealed by a black mask. The request? To take the Duchess of Mecklen on a date.

At first, Childe refused.

“I don’t know much about the Duke of Mecklen, but I don’t want to die at his hands.”

Though of similar age, Childe found the Duke of Mecklen intimidating. He had a reputation for being one of the coldest and most calculating men in the empire. There was nothing to gain from getting involved with his wife, and Childe’s father wouldn’t take kindly to it either.

But soon, Childe reconsidered. The reward was simply too great to pass up.

‘Where did this jackpot come from?’ he wondered.

Childe was deeply in debt—a significant amount, in fact. As the only son of one of the empire’s three great ducal houses, the House of Ezester, it seemed unthinkable to others. But those familiar with Childe’s history understood. His father, the Duke of Ezester, had long since cut off his allowance, fed up with the countless scandals and reckless behavior.

He had reclaimed the lands and properties given to Childe, leaving him to survive on what the family provided. Unable to even protest, Childe had turned to gambling to maintain his lifestyle. Unfortunately, his luck hadn’t held out, and his debts had piled up to a point where repayment seemed impossible.

With the due date for his debts looming, this high-paying side job couldn’t have come at a better time. Thinking of the money he would soon have, Childe beamed at Eleanor.

“Do you have any hobbies? Perhaps reading? Or do you have a favorite poet? I’m quite fond of Gillion’s works. Have you ever heard ‘The Lovers of the Hundred Days’?” he asked, leaning into his practiced charm.

There was nothing quite as romantic as poetry when it came to wooing noblewomen. The higher their rank, the more effective it was. Reciting a love poem with a dash of romantic flair never failed to captivate his audience.

‘A little bit of playful charm would probably be appreciated,’  he thought, planning his next move. Childe cleared his throat, preparing to recite, but Eleanor shook her head.

“No, I’m not familiar with it,” she said.

“Really? You’ve never heard of Gillion? He’s quite a famous poet,” Childe said, surprised.

“Apologies, but I’m not well-versed in Baden’s poets.”

In truth, she knew them well, having been forced to memorize them by Caroline. But she didn’t feel like revealing that.

Childe, clearly disappointed, sighed. “Poetry is my specialty. What a shame. It’s not like I can play an instrument here… What about a song?”

“A song?”

“Do you know ‘O Sole Mio’? It’s one of my best,” Childe boasted, emphasizing his talent. He went on, unprompted, to share that he had even been a soloist in a choir at the age of ten.

Eleanor intended to decline, but before she could, Childe began singing. Trapped into listening to his impromptu performance, Eleanor sighed inwardly.

It was tiring. Deciding to just endure it, she tilted her head back to gaze at the sky. The stars, scattered across the night, shone in different colors. As her eyes caught sight of a green one, an all-too-familiar face flashed in her mind.

‘…Was he angry?’

Eleanor’s expression darkened slightly as she thought of Lennoch.

‘No, that can’t be right.’

They weren’t close enough for such emotions to be involved. But then again, his words echoed in her mind.

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

“Madam?” Childe’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eleanor quickly apologized, realizing she had been lost in her thoughts, unaware that Childe’s song had ended.

“You seem tired. Your complexion doesn’t look well.”

“I suppose I didn’t get enough sleep,” she admitted, offering a small smile. “Thank you for the song; it was well done.”

While she had been distracted, it was true that she hadn’t slept well. She finished the rest of her champagne in one gulp.

“I think I’ll take my leave now.”

“So soon? I still have so much more to show you…” Childe replied, trying to keep her there.

“No, I think I’ll pass,” Eleanor shook her head, declining his offer. The night air was refreshing, but her mind felt heavy and clouded. Staying any longer would only bring more unwelcome thoughts.

As she moved to leave the balcony, Childe suddenly stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“……?”

“Madam, could we meet again?” His words were partly impulsive. The mysterious man who had approached him had only requested one date, but Childe felt unsatisfied with just that. To be honest, his pride was wounded.

‘Am I really that unappealing?’

Noblewomen usually admired his wit and charm. He was used to them vying for his attention, even fighting over him at times. But Eleanor remained indifferent, as if he were merely a stone in her path. The rumors of her being a vain, pleasure-seeking princess seemed far from the truth. The more she ignored him, the more determined he became.

“Please, give me another chance. I can do better,” Childe pleaded.

Eleanor absently fiddled with the empty champagne glass, contemplating how to politely but firmly decline his advances. Before she could respond, the balcony door clicked open.

“Oh! Pardon us,” a young couple exclaimed as they opened the door to the balcony. Startled to find Eleanor and Childe there, they hesitated, clearly uncomfortable.

Seizing the opportunity, Eleanor swiftly slipped through the open door.

“Madam…”

“I’m sorry,” Eleanor said, turning to face him one last time. Determined to leave no room for misunderstanding, she added, “This is extremely uncomfortable for me.”

With a final slam of the balcony door, Childe froze in place, unable to react. Eleanor gave him a brief nod and calmly returned to the ballroom.

***

‘What a relief,’ Eleanor thought to herself as she quickly scanned the room for Lennoch. He was seated, engaged in conversation with an elderly noble, while five others stood in line behind them, likely waiting for their chance to speak with the Emperor during the gathering. Eleanor noticed that the Empress Dowager’s seat, located at a considerable distance from Lennoch, was now empty.

‘She must have left early.’

Brianna and Norah had already switched partners and were dancing again, lost in the rhythm of the music. Feeling a bit out of place standing alone, Eleanor looked around for Berenice, but she was nowhere to be seen in the hall.

As Eleanor found herself on the opposite side of the ballroom from Lennoch, a burst of laughter caught her attention.

“Haha, it seems the Duke of Nestor passed his sense of humor down to Lord Evan,” someone said amidst the laughter.

“Yes, my father does have a certain wit.”

“I visited the Nestor estate last month, but I missed you there, Lord Evan.”

“Ah, I was out of town, attending the opening of a new shop owned by a close friend. I was away from the estate for quite some time.”

“You must be very busy indeed.”

The lively conversation, filled with a mix of male and female voices, centered around Evan von Nestor. Eleanor watched him from a distance as she sipped her champagne.

‘The second son of the Nestor family,’ she recalled.

Evan von Nestor, the younger son of Duke Nestor. She knew that Evan and Eger, who was Duke Nestor’s nephew, were related, though they were not particularly close.

As she pondered this, Evan’s gaze suddenly met hers from across the room.

“Ah, Duchess, we meet again,” he called out.

“…Yes, indeed,” Eleanor replied politely.

Evan had somehow noticed her presence, despite the distance. She wasn’t looking to draw attention, but it seemed inevitable. After exchanging the obligatory pleasantries, Eleanor attempted to disengage, but the people surrounding Evan began to whisper amongst themselves as they noticed her.