Duchess Mecklen’s Elegant Revolt - Chapter 7 Part 5

This debutante was hosted by the Nestor Ducal House, and the grandeur of the event left the attendees in awe. The guests gathered in the elaborately decorated hall were impressed by the atmosphere, which differed notably from typical imperial events.

“They’ve really put a lot of effort into this,” one guest remarked.

“Look at those ornaments. Can you even guess how much they cost?” another added.

“That’s a piece by Tom Hudderson. The Duke’s taste is impeccable as always.”

Recently, there were widespread rumors that the Nestor Trading Company had successfully established new trade routes with foreign nations, bringing in vast amounts of gold. The value of the artwork alone in the hall was enough to support an entire city.

As people debated the wealth of the Nestor family, a loud announcement interrupted them.

“Her Majesty the Empress Dowager is entering!”

A trumpet fanfare signaled the Empress Dowager’s entrance, and the nobles in the hall bowed deeply in respect. The Emperor was not at her side, as he was still in a meeting regarding the fate of the Duchess of Mecklen.

The Empress Dowager, seated in the Emperor’s stead, surveyed the room and spoke, “I wish to express my heartfelt gratitude to all of you for coming here today, despite the difficult circumstances.”

“We are honored, Your Majesty.”

Her speech, opening the debutante, was brief and to the point. Though her tone was gentle, it carried enough volume for everyone in the hall to hear. Some of the attendees had hoped she might address the scandal that had erupted that day involving the Duchess, but no such mention was made.

“Do you think she’ll actually show up?” a noble whispered.

“Oh, come on. What face could she possibly show here?” another responded, filled with curiosity.

“If it were me, I’d be holed up in my room, crying. How could anyone come after a scandal like that?”

“Is it true, though? The rumors about the two of them meeting?”

“I heard Lord Childe himself reported it. What a disgrace for the Duke of Ezester.”

Some expressed sympathy for the Duke of Ezester.

“His only son causes nothing but trouble. It must be a constant headache.”

“Indeed. And with the Duchess of Mecklen involved, it’s even worse.”

“She shouldn’t have accepted Lord Childe’s private meeting request in the first place. Knowing his reputation, why would she even exchange tokens of affection with him?”

Someone pointed out the Duchess’s fault, and others quickly joined in.

“Exactly. How could she fall for such an obvious temptation?”

“And how long has it been since she got married? Not even two months, right?”

“Ha, well, it’s not like she was ever known for her virtuous behavior. They say that Princess from Hartmann had quite the reputation.”

Among the gossipers was the Countess of Lorentz, whose scathing remarks about Eleanor were watched with an ambiguous expression by Brianna. People speculated on how the Duke of Mecklen might handle the situation.

“Do you think they’ll divorce?”

“But the Emperor personally mediated the marriage. Surely not.”

“This is a matter of family pride. If it were me, I’d divorce her.”

“The Duke of Mecklen is the biggest victim here. His wife is disgraced, and his family’s honor is in tatters.”

The conversation showed no signs of dying down, and the young ladies who were supposed to take the debutante stage next hesitated, their nerves frayed by the scandal.

To divert the attention back to the event, Evan, the second son of the Nestor family, took the initiative.

Clap, clap.

“May I have your attention, please?” he called out.

Hundreds of eyes turned to the center of the hall. Evan had somehow positioned himself on the stage, extending his hand toward the staircase, indicating something—or someone—was about to make an entrance.

“It’s time to welcome the stars of the evening. Please greet the young ladies making their societal debut with your warm encouragement and love.”

At that moment, the crowd, which had momentarily forgotten the purpose of the event, was reminded of the debutante. The room fell silent, and elegant classical music filled the hall, setting the stage for the debutantes.

The order of the debutante presentation was simple. At the end of the grand staircase leading from the second floor, the chamberlain would announce the name of each young lady, who would then step forward to the stage and offer a formal greeting.

Some still clung to the hope that the Duchess of Mecklen might appear, and they watched the stage intently. But there was no sign of the Duchess.

As the seemingly endless line of debutantes neared its end and all the greetings were completed, Evan raised his glass.

“Shall we raise a toast together?”

At this cue, all eyes turned to the Empress Dowager on the opposite side of the room. She slowly rose from her seat, a champagne glass in her hand. Just as she was about to begin her toast, an interruption came.

“W-Wait a moment!”

The chamberlain, who had been responsible for announcing the names, suddenly abandoned all decorum and awkwardly ran to the foot of the stairs. Duke Nestor, about to scold him for interrupting at such a critical moment, was silenced as the chamberlain quickly shouted the news he had just received.

“T-The Duchess has arrived…!”

“……?”

A murmur of silent questions rippled through the hall.

“The Duchess of Mecklen is entering now!”

“The Duchess?”

The crowd’s eyes turned back to the entrance, where a figure with a distinctive short bob haircut was stepping through the wide-open doors. Someone gasped in recognition, almost like a scream of surprise.

It was indeed the Duchess of Mecklen, Eleanor, who walked in with a commanding presence. As she approached, people instinctively took a step back, as if there were an invisible barrier around her.

Eleanor moved confidently through the crowd, positioning herself among the young ladies who had just completed their debutante presentations. She smiled brightly, as if mocking those who had assumed she would be hiding in shame.

“Eleanor von Mecklen.”

“……!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all on my debut day.”

“This can’t be real,” someone whispered in disbelief.

From a distance, the Empress Dowager, who still held her champagne glass, allowed a subtle smile to play on her lips.

***

Brianna was utterly flustered. She had been certain that Eleanor wouldn’t be attending the debutante.

What on earth was she thinking, coming here to face such embarrassment?

And to make matters worse, the dress Eleanor was wearing was one that Brianna had given her. Thankfully, it hadn’t been shown to the public yet, so no one else recognized it… yet.

“That dress looks familiar,” someone remarked.

“W-What are you talking about?” Brianna stammered.

“Didn’t you recently order about twenty dresses from that new designer you liked so much? I think I saw something similar among those,” her father, the Marquis of Liege, asked as they crossed paths at the party.

Startled, Brianna let out a loud hiccup. “N-No, it’s completely different! How could you think that old-fashioned dress looks like mine?”

“Hmm…” The Marquis’s eyes, usually buried beneath layers of flesh, narrowed further as he scrutinized his daughter.

Brianna felt her throat dry up, but she managed to maintain her composure, brushing off his suspicion with her typical boldness.

‘I must have been crazy,’ she thought to herself.

She had given the dress to Eleanor on impulse, partly to show off. It was a way of flaunting her wealth and status—something she was particularly proud of. Despite her apparent display of wealth, Eleanor had always dressed modestly during her time at the palace. Brianna had once been fooled by Eleanor’s humility during a charity event in the slums, but she wasn’t so foolish as to miss the reality of Eleanor’s situation.

She had inwardly mocked the Duchess when she gifted her the dress, thinking she was showing off in front of someone who couldn’t afford such luxuries. Yet here Eleanor was, wearing that very dress on the day of her scandal.

“What terrible luck…” Brianna muttered under her breath.

“Lady Brianna, I think I’ll take my leave now,” said the Countess of Lorentz, who had been laughing and chatting with Brianna just moments before.

“What? Already?”

The Countess set down her champagne glass. “I’m not feeling well. I should excuse myself. Marquis, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Take care, Countess,” the Marquis responded, bidding her farewell as she quickly departed.

Brianna watched the Countess disappear into the crowd, feeling a strange sense of unease. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Lady Brianna,” came a voice from behind.

Turning her attention away from the Countess, Brianna found herself face to face with Evan, the second son of the Nestor family, who greeted her with a polite smile.

“Oh, it’s you,” Brianna responded, her tone indifferent.

“And I see the Marquis of Liege is here as well.”

Unlike his daughter, the Marquis was pleased to see Evan. “How have you been? It feels like ages since I last saw you.”

“Haha, but didn’t we just meet two days ago?”

Brianna, who had been listening to their conversation, interjected, “You two met separately?”

She hadn’t known that her father and Evan were on such familiar terms.

Evan smiled awkwardly. “I’ve been receiving some help from the Marquis.”

“Help? If anything, it’s me who’s receiving help,” the Marquis corrected, turning to Brianna. “Brianna, you should spend more time with Lord Evan from now on.”

“What?” Brianna’s confusion was evident on her face.

“You’re in the palace, aren’t you? You’ll have plenty of chances to see each other. Make sure to greet him and get to know him better, understand?”

Brianna nodded reluctantly, though her expression remained one of bewilderment.

‘Could it be that Father is considering marriage between Evan and me?’

The thought made her grimace. The Nestor family wasn’t bad, but Evan was the second son, meaning he wouldn’t inherit the ducal title. His older brother stood in line for that. Unless something happened to the elder brother, Evan had no chance of becoming a duke.

And Brianna had no interest in marrying a man with no future.

“I’m not really interested in getting to know him,” she said bluntly.

“…What?” The Marquis’s face darkened at her straightforwardness. “Brianna, that’s too much! Apologize to Lord Evan at once.”

“Fine, if my words were harsh, I apologize. But I have no interest in you, Lord, so keep that in mind.”

“Brianna!”

Seeing her father’s evident displeasure, Brianna quickly realized that he had indeed been pushing for a match between her and Evan.

‘As if I would ever marry someone like him.’

The very idea of it made her bristle. She didn’t want to be near Evan, let alone marry him. There was something about his ever-present smile that unnerved her, leaving her feeling uneasy.

The Marquis of Liege, taken aback by his daughter’s unexpected defiance, scolded her sharply. “Who said you had to be interested in him? I simply meant it would be good for you two to become friends.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Enough of this nonsense. I’m saying this for your own good, so just listen. Why must you always argue?” The Marquis was growing increasingly frustrated, but before their argument could escalate further, Evan stepped in, trying to diffuse the tension.

“It’s alright, Marquis. There’s no need to worry,” Evan said with a polite smile, though his expression hinted at the awkwardness of the situation. He turned to Brianna, his tone light, “It seems I’ve somehow earned Lady Brianna’s disfavor, though I’m not sure why.”

Brianna, however, did not soften her stance. “I just don’t want you to get any false ideas, that’s all.”

Her bluntness left her father fuming, his eyes narrowing in anger. This wasn’t just about a potential friendship; the Marquis had clearly intended something more significant, and Brianna’s refusal was jeopardizing his plans. He tightened his grip on her arm and gave Evan an apologetic look.

“I apologize. We’ll talk later,” he said hastily.

Evan, still smiling, reassured him, “There’s no need to apologize, Marquis. Please don’t worry about it.”

Relieved by Evan’s calm response, the Marquis quickly led Brianna away. As they walked off, Brianna threw one last sharp look back at Evan, but he remained unfazed, not reacting to her glare.

Meanwhile, the center of the hall was bustling with young ladies dancing, celebrating their debut into society. Evan, making his way further into the crowd, soon found himself standing before the Duchess of Mecklen, Eleanor. He could feel the attention of the room shift toward them.

“It would be a great disappointment if you refused me again,” he said, extending his hand toward her. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

It was the second time that Evan had asked Eleanor to dance. He believed that her presence here, despite the scandal, was a deliberate attempt to regain control and attention.

‘Surely, she won’t refuse this time,’ he thought.

But Eleanor, without hesitation, declined once more. “I’m sorry.”