Chapter 52
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Rumors quickly spread that Lady Laila was arranging mistress contracts using her actors in her troupe.
"So all of her noble behavior was just a way to make money."
Such was the sneer.
But beyond the mockery, countless eyes were drawn to Laila’s salon and the Marel troupe. A large number of nobles and the rich coveted the leading actors of the Marel Troupe, and there was a huge competition, especially for Luna and Zion.
People tried to slip business cards with winning bids into Laila’s hands somehow, but perhaps fearing rumors, Laila kept to herself that month, barely socializing. Neither her residence, Count Andex’s, nor the wisteria annex of Duke Klaus's estate, had opened their front doors, so they had no excuse to visit and no place to leave their contact information.
Nor could they tell such a less-than-honorable story in a letter. Anyone with ears to hear knows the rumors, but that's below the surface. You couldn’t insult a noblewoman in public.
Of course, there were worse things said behind her back. In fact, the question on most people's minds was, "Who is really in possession of that Laila?"
If she could sell the actors of the Marel troupe, why shouldn't she sell her own beauty, since her nobility was just a wrapper, and the kernel was nothing more than a vulgar woman.
Loella was pleased with the public reactions. It was as if a traffic jam had been swept away.
"I think their eyes are finally opening."
Loella said happily as she let the oiled hands gently massage her hair. Some high-class courtesans had a reputation for being the talk of the town, but there was nothing wrong with that.
Caroline, standing beside her, spoke softly.
"Don’t feel relieved just yet. The rumors have taken a strange turn."
"Strange directions?"
"Yes. It's Zion Miller, you know?"
"I know. Who doesn't know that name these days?"
Loella had no intention of watching The Curtain Rises, no matter how popular it was. But it had been a while, and she couldn't forget the face of the leading man she'd seen in the palace's music salon. He was a little out of Loella's taste, but that didn't mean he wasn't handsome.
Caroline said.
"I see there's a woman already claiming that Zion Miller."
"Is he married?"
"If he was, they wouldn't be making all this noise. The first rumor was that it was the Countess of Albesleben."
Countess Albesleben was an avid fan of The Curtain Rises and a very wealthy widow; she was not one to hide her desires, and she had enough money to be Zion Miller's secret benefactor.
But judging by the way Caroline spoke, she was not. Loella, who had been purring pleasantly like a cat with her eyes closed as her head rested on the chair while being massaged, opened her eyes curiously and cast a glance at her.
"You mean to tell me that there was someone who won the Countess of Albesleben over with money? I can't think of anyone who might have done so."
"That's why it's a rumor, that the criteria might not be just monetary gain."
"It's a laughingstock, and it's only of concern to those who have their eyes wide open for dirty work."
Loella snorted and closed her eyes again.
The masseuse who had been massaging her head gestured, and a maid brought a basin of warm water. Feeling the warm water lap at her scalp, Loella murmured sleepily.
"So Laila can't even open her salon for fear of the rumors, though now it's hard to tell if they're really just rumors."
Caroline couldn't answer in the affirmative. The rumors were definitely keeping Laila from opening a second salon. If the Wisteria Annex Salon were to open now, the only people who would want to attend would be the lustful and the filthy.
But it was unlikely that Laila would fall as she was. She'd made a name for herself as soon as she'd arrived on the social scene, creating a buzz like the center of a storm. There's no way she'd be dragged down so easily.
‘Maybe I'm overthinking this.’
Caroline pressed down her anxiety. Loella, already losing interest in the conversation, yawned sleepily as a towel was wrapped around her head to dry it, and then, with a peaceful sigh, she actually fell asleep.
If she had known where Olivia was at that hour, Loella would never have been able to sleep peacefully.
She was in the garden of a mansion, sitting at a table under a willow tree.
It was a house with a very large garden, in the middle of the capital, but far enough away from the noise that it didn't seem to matter. The building itself was small, but the garden was large and the fence was high. When she first walked through the gate, she felt like she was entering a prison, but once she was fully inside, it was so open that she didn't feel trapped.
The sunset had turned the sky a reddish-purple color, and the strong sunlight filtered through the rustling willow leaves just before she crossed over. The table was unadorned with flowers, but she knew they were somewhere in bloom as their faint scent wafting in the air.
It was a romantic scene, but Olivia's mind was as sharp as a knife. Though she hadn't gotten the invitation she'd hoped for, she hadn't come here to be crushed like a flower petal.
"Would you like a glass of champagne?"
The older servant waiting by the table asked politely. She smiled and nodded.
"Please."
Soon a bottle of liquor and some nuts in an ice basket appeared. Poured into beautiful glasses, the golden liquid was not too sweet, not too bitter, and just the right temperature.
Olivia was not a big drinker. She'd have to be careful what she drank today, so she just wet her lips and set it down.
It was then that Ezekiel arrived.
He had no escort and was dressed casually, his jacket unbuttoned and the tie was loose. The servants stood up straight to greet him, but Olivia didn't stand or turn around.
"What a rude guest. The owner is here and you don't even look at him."
She clinked the goblet in her hand haughtily.
"Perhaps it's the Duke who's rude. He invited a lady, and he's late. And what's with the attire?"
"I never thought I'd be criticized for that. Are we still not this comfortable with each other?"
It was ridiculous. This was the first time they'd ever been alone together in the first place.
But it wasn't a bad sign. Ezekiel wasn't mad at her yet, and she wasn’t about to make him. Maybe she could get out of here without any problem.
"Sit down."
Olivia didn't argue with him, but instead spoke generously, as if she were in charge. Ezekiel smirked and took the seat across from her, and instead of asking a servant to bring him his drink, he took it from between her fingers and raised it to his lips.
"You seem to be in a good mood."
"Well. There's something that happened that I'm still trying to decide whether to be happy about or not."
"What's that?"
"About being the most curious person in society."
"The Duke's welfare is always the most curious thing on almost everyone's mind, as I recall."
"I think I'm more famous for being the owner of a certain woman these days."
He said dryly. Olivia turned her head away with all the aloofness of an offended noblewoman.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Do you want to give me your business card?"
Ezekiel smiled, as if giving it would settle everything. His foot crept up from under the table and slipped under the hem of Olivia's skirt. She felt it, but she didn't move her foot to avoid it and stayed where she was.
Ezekiel's shoe rested still on the nose of her pointed-toe shoes. Like he was debating whether to step on it or not. But still, his face was smiling.
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