Chapter 26
***
If only there was a heavy snowfall.
May all roads leading to the Duchy of Deimos be blocked off...........
Fiona Bennett sipped her drink and prayed and prayed.
She couldn't even show her face at the high society gatherings she loved so much. The gossips were saying that Fiona Bennett had faded. That her beauty wasn't what it used to be, that her voice had lost its luster.
“Not at all. You're still as charming in bed, only Christine is better on stage.”
Count Gounod's voice echoed in her head.
She felt unbearably angry and humiliated.
Three years in his bed, and Gabriel Gounod had given her no guarantees, so perhaps losing her leading role wasn’t much of a surprise.
Christine Peildon was young and beautiful.
A thieving, kittenish bitch.
Fiona's knuckles cracked as she angrily clutched the bottle.
"Ah, Miss!"
She had just uncorked the second bottle when the maid burst into the bedroom. Her chest heaved up and down as she ran panting across the floor.
"Oh my God, you've had too much to drink, this is not the time for that!"
"Yes, it is not the time for this, for if it weren't for that bitch, I would be at the Duke of Deimos's banquet today!"
Fiona scowled, tilting her flask.
"Well, yes, that seat was yours to begin with, but she's had her moment, and it's over, over, over!"
"What?"
Fiona stopped moving her glass to her mouth and looked at the maid.
"You'd be surprised to know what a big deal I've asked for, because I've been pulling some strings."
The maid flashed Fiona a greedy grin, and when she saw the fox-like glint in the maid's eye, she slipped the ruby ring off her finger and tossed it onto the table.
"That girl is an illegitimate child. A bastard!"
"..................Bastard?"
For a moment, her unfocused eyes slowly cleared. Fiona staggered to her feet. Her tousled red hair spilled over her shoulders.
"Didn’t her father die in the battle of Greta?"
"Yes. I'm sure he did. It said so in the newspapers. But he can’t be found. He's not on the survivor's pension list, and there's no marriage license."
"...."
Her head, loose from drunkenness, tightened.
Fiona pondered the maid's words as she pulled her gown halfway across her chest. She was drunk as hell, but not so drunk that she couldn't figure out what it meant.
"She was a bastard child."
When she finished, the maid looked down with satisfaction at the ring on her finger. Her greedy eyes flashed with the brilliance of rubies.
Being a bastard and lying about her father as a fallen soldier…
Fiona's lips, pale without makeup, curved upward in a daring smile. Her heart pounded in my chest.
"Who is her biological father?"
"I'd have to use an informant to find out, but..................... I don't know, but there's something nasty about faking her birth, isn't there? Why else would she hide it?"
"Something like a fox."
The maid took the ruby ring. Fiona glared at the maid and went to her dressing table, pulling a box from a drawer. From the ivory jewelry box, Fiona pulled out a gold coin.
“Find out as soon as possible.”
"Why, my lady. Just trust this Tali. He’s a resourceful informant."
The maid giggled, staring at the gold coin as it glinted in the flames of the fireplace.
***
The letter she’d been waiting for had arrived.
Her clear blue eyes moistened as she looked down at the familiar handwriting.
<It’s a beautiful day here. Spring has sprung, and I'm feeling much better, so you don't have to worry about me.>
She could hear her mother's affectionate voice beside her.
<It's all thanks to His mercy. He came. He said he’s proud of our daughter. I am so happy.>
The ears of the letter crinkled with a rustle in her trembling fingertips.
Mercy.................. Proud......
Christine loved her mother, but that didn’t mean she could understand her life.
She was unbearably angry and sad.
Christine gazed out over the rain-soaked fields. The boarding house, lit only by the faint glow of the setting sun in the evenings, suddenly felt dark and uncomfortable. The lights and colors of the Bern Palace had been so dazzling.
She’s healthy, that's all that matters.
Christine consoled herself and organized the letters.
She stood up and prepared to leave.
She carefully applied her makeup, curled her hair. Changing into the evening dress she'd brought with her, she took one last look in the mirror.
In the glow of the lamp, a woman with deep red lips stared back at her. Taking a deep breath, she stared at the stranger in the mirror for a long moment before turning off the gas lamp.
If you can't avoid it, be shameless.
***
It was Christmas Eve, and the world was all new.
Snow had fallen on Greenwood Park's giant, ornamented Christmas tree. Despite the freezing weather, crowds filled the squares and streets in celebration of the holiday.
As night fell, the city center became even more crowded. The sight of luxurious carriages drawn by four horses jostling each other as they made their way to the Duke of Deimos' residence was a sight to behold.
As befits the reputation of Bern's finest families, the ladies in attendance on Christmas night were all decked out in their finest jewelry and dresses.
Colorful ostrich feathers, peacock feathers, and kingfisher feathers fluttered under the chandeliers as the ladies chatted and laughed.
"Your dress suits you very well, Miss Deimos. Amarine is the best.”
"I see you're wearing the necklace His Highness gave you today as well. It's a stunning necklace, the more I look at it, the more I see how beautiful it is."
The emerald necklace Arthur gave her on her coming-of-age day. Cecilia wore it on special occasions to show off his affection.
"He gave me jewelry to match the color of my eyes. Crown Prince Arthur is an unexpectedly romantic man. I believe Miss Deimos is the only lady he has ever given jewelry to."
Cecilia had chosen a dress with a deep plunging neckline to show off the necklace against her slender neck and pearly white flesh. It was an excellent choice.
"By the way, I heard you showed kindness to Miss Peildon in her time of need in Amarine, and indeed, Miss Deimos's generosity is hard to match."
The lady flashed a fake smile and gave an audible purr.
"I heard you even handpicked a dress for her. I wonder if she'll be able to handle Miss Deimos' fine taste."
"Of course she will, it's Miss Deimos' dress, isn't it?"
The ladies, eager to make Deimos's acquaintance, began the art of flattery.
Cecilia leisurely fanned herself with a lace fan and eyed the entrance to the ballroom.
There wasn't a lady in Grita society who dared not wear a dress recommended by Cecilia Deimos.
But Christine Peildon.
She was different.
Even though Cecilia approached her first, Christine didn't act friendly, and she didn't blindly agree with her opinions just to look good to her. She just listened silently, occasionally nodding and occasionally flashing a restrained smile.
Cecilia didn’t like it.
“Are you interested in .................. her?”
"Well, yeah. I'm interested.”
She vaguely understood the reason for Arthur's curiosity. Christine Peildon was mysterious.
"I don't think I could get close to someone with such rumors."
"You mean the rumors of her relationship with Count Gounod?"
The ladies' eyes sparkled with excitement.
"I suppose it must have been Count Gounod's influence on today's event, for I don't think Miss Peildon’s reputation is quite there yet."
"I pity Miss Bennett."
The ladies nodded inwardly, fanning themselves with fans embroidered with colorful floral patterns.
The criteria for the charity auction was the person of the year. Christine Peildon may have been the talk of the town, but she didn't meet the criteria.
"I wonder if she'll be the lowest bidder ever."
At the thought of the poor opera singer about to be humiliated, they giggled, their delicate lace fluttering in the breeze.
"Look, there she is!"
Someone shouted, pointing at the entrance with the tip of their fan.
As if by appointment, the conversations in the hall came to a screeching halt, all eyes focused on the entrance to the ballroom.
****
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