Misfortune 45

Chapter 45

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"Besides, if you're my husband's slave, you're my slave, aren't you?"

Josephine said, with just enough sternness in her voice to warn Delnia that if she continued to fool around with Roan, she'd get her comeuppance. It was none of Josephine's business that a slave's will was not always respected.

But the slave's expression remained unchanged by the murderous threat. As if the momentary tremor had been a lie.

With her eyes fixed on the slave, Josephine lifted the cream jug.

The slave suddenly gently touched Josephine's hand, stopping her in her tracks. Josephine's eyes widened at the slave's sudden action, as she dared to touch her.

"We don't usually add milk to our Earl Grey from Buckbell's, and if you find it difficult to enjoy its natural flavor, I suggest you add a little sugar."

The calm, unemotional advice that followed fueled Josephine's embarrassment and anger.

Josephine had always felt inferior in Blois, unable to keep up with the latest fashion in the capital.

And now a mere slave had taken it upon herself to criticize her tastelessness. And in the most noble and elegant of tones.

"You...............!"

Josephine's stomach flipped, and she jumped to her feet. She felt like she had to grab the slave by the hair to feel better.

But before her hand could reach the slave, the door to the parlor burst open.

Josephine's eyes, distorted with rage, widened at the sight of the person on the other side of the door.

"Colonel!"

Josephine's face lit up as if she'd never been angry before, and she strode gently toward Roan. The slave was no longer on her mind.

Roan lowered his gaze from Delnia, who had been the first he looked at, to face Josephine, who stood almost nose to nose with him.

"Long time no see. Lady Nubel."

"Indeed. I'm both saddened and pleased to see you so well, and you haven't answered my letters."

"It would have been better if you had announced your visit."

"I wanted to surprise the Colonel."

Josephine's voice was soft. Her head was so full of joy at finally seeing him that she didn't seem to notice Roan's disapproving nuance.

Roan glanced down at Josephine, who seemed to be absorbed in her own reunion, and then at Delnia.

It was only natural that the image of the girl with the big eyes that he'd seen every time he'd been with Lena in the distant past should overlap with hers.

She had been jealous of Lena since they were children. No, it wasn't love or anything in the first place. It was just the possessiveness of an arrogant young woman who needed everything in the world to go her way.

So if he cared for his sister in the slightest, she'd get in the way.

It was annoying to have a girl who was so desperate for his attention.

Now that she had matured to the point where he no longer recognized her younger self, she simply looked the other way when other women clung to him. As if it had nothing to do with her.

It should be a welcome change, one less thing to bother him, but why didn’t it make him feel any better?

Ever since he learned that Josephine had summoned the woman out of the blue-no, ever since he lost control and lunged at her-he felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into the dirty water.

Even in the midst of all this, he found myself dumbfounded at the sight of the woman's darkened eyes.

"You should get out."

Roan said without another word.

Sensing his attention was on the slave, Josephine furrowed her brow disgruntledly, but then smoothed it out again. Getting rid of her was a welcome relief, after all.

Bowing her head slightly, Delnia glanced back at Josephine, who looked smug, and Roan, who was looking down at her.

It wasn't that she really didn't feel anything.

But the emotions that surged inside her were quickly swept back down before they could reach her throat. Just as the water surface remains still when the fire goes out before it boils.

Instead, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion took over her entire body.

Delnia was tired. She couldn't even feel her emotions; she just wanted to get back to her uncomfortable bed in her room as soon as possible.

So she didn't even look back even after the door closed, despite the gazes staring at the back of her head.

***

"You're here already."

The Marquis of Lasser greeted Roan as he entered his study.

It was the usual scene, but today there was one more familiar face in the room.

Roan slipped inside, finally understanding the purpose of the Admiral's summons from the morning.

"This fellow has something to say to you."

Viscount Nubel arched one eyebrow at the Admiral's casual remark. It was obvious that he didn’t like Roan, but he didn't like the idea of it being mentioned in public.

Of course, his pride was the last thing on Roan's mind.

"What do you want?"

"Hmm. My daughter seems to be causing you some trouble."

Viscount Nubel coughed softly and averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed.

If only the young lady knew that every time she messed up, her father would be apologizing behind her back to that lowly commoner.

Of course, Josephine might not care if she knew. Not even the timid Viscount Nubel and his wife, who couldn’t seem to control their stubborn youngest daughter.

"I feel ashamed she has bothered the Colonel."

"I don't mind. It's just..................."

Normally, he would have shrugged it off.

He had never been the least bit interested in the finer points of noble manners, and so, much to their chagrin, he had never been particularly impressed by the rude things they would do to single him out. As long as it didn't hurt him.

In the same vein, Roan didn't care what Josephine did. It didn't affect him anyway.

But this time was different.

"Now that the young lady has reached her adulthood, wouldn't it be better if she refrained from doing anything that might affect her reputation?"

Roan added, sounding worried. But there was no way Viscount Nubel could have known that this was more of a warning not to cross the line.

Even the advice about reputation made the Viscount's face turn red. It was even more insulting when he remembered that the other person was the one who had ruined his own reputation by asking the Emperor for a slave.

"I'll be sure to tell my daughter…."

"I appreciate it."

Roan replied graciously, his expression unchanged.

Viscount Nubel, his face reddening to the point of bursting, thanked Admiral and left the study.

The Admiral, who had been watching the scene in silence, shook his head and lit his pipe.

"You're coming on strong for some reason."

"I didn't think it was any different than usual."

The Admiral smirked through the smoke, as if to say, "I thought it was.”

"Admittedly, Josephine did go a bit overboard this time."

The Admiral's lips curled into a wry smile as he added, as if he understood his reaction.

To the Admiral who had no children of his own, Josephine, who was becoming more and more of a parental worry and concern by the day, was just too cute.

"By the way, I can't believe Viscountess Nubel came up here herself with her daughter. It must be a long time since they’ve been in the capital."

Of course, with Viscountess Nubel's famously fiery temper, it was more of a case of impatience than anything else, but it was undeniable that their return to Blois had been delayed.

Roan looked into the Admiral's eyes, which were deep with concern, and slowly spoke.

"Has His Majesty recovered yet?"

It was the Emperor's health that was holding the Admiral back from returning to Blois as soon as the banquet was over. No one, save a few senior officers, was quite sure why.

"No. I can see he’s getting worse, not better."

The Admiral exhaled the smoke slowly and stared down at his pipe.

His name was carved into the smooth, polished wood. It was a personal gift from the Emperor when he appointed him Admiral.

The doctor who examined the Emperor diagnosed him with chronic chest pain. It was not a life-threatening condition, common in old age when the body's organs were failing.

Nevertheless, the Emperor was not easily recovered. The Admiral found the reason for the Emperor's slow recovery to be psychological.

"It must be a shock to him," the Admiral said, "because at his age, whenever he is seriously ill, the years seem to pass, and he has always been so strong."

It was a disease of old age, and while it may not be fatal, it was hard to hope for a full recovery. Though no one would dare say it.

"That's why he was so worried about the future, and listening to him from the sidelines made me feel unnecessarily anxious."

"A weak body is a weak mind."

"That is true, but there is still a great matter that His  Majesty must decide."

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