Chapter 113: Gift From A Friend.

Chapter 113

Sigrid rose gracefully from her cushioned seat, her dark crimson eyes locking onto the noblewoman standing at the entrance of the terrace. She smoothed the front of her fine gown, offering a composed bow of her head. "And a very good day to you, Countess Celestine Everhart."

Lady Celestine’s serene smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her luminous eyes widening with unmistakable astonishment. "I must confess myself rather surprised that you know my name, Your Grace," Celestine murmured, her smooth voice carrying an air of delicate wonder.

A faint smirk touched Sigrid’s lips, sharp and unyielding. "You knew my name without hesitation, Countess. Why should I not extend the exact same courtesy to a lady of your renowned stature?"

Celestine’s angelic expression widened into something even more ethereal, though a calculating light flickered beneath her long lashes. "Yet you are the Duchess of Aethermor, wed to the formidable Duke Soren. You are the stepsister of Crown Princess Maria, and your name has graced the front pages of at least four major scandal gazettes within the span of a single month. Truly, every noble soul within the kingdom knows who you are. You are quite well known across the realm."

"One would almost think you were subtly calling me infamous," Sigrid replied with a light, airy laugh, though her gaze remained utterly cold. ℴ

"Famous, infamous... they are merely two sides of the very same coin, are they not?" Celestine’s eyes dimmed slightly, taking on a cool, distant cast. "I simply never envisioned that someone of your elevated standing would harbor the slightest interest in a mere Countess. High nobility of your pedigree are typically far too arrogant to concern themselves with court officials, so you must forgive my genuine surprise."

Beneath her calm exterior, a sudden surge of fiery rage threatened to spill past Sigrid’s rigid self-control. How could I ever forget the name of the woman who helped turn my previous life into an absolute, agonizing hell? The memories of court maneuverings and silent betrayals executed by Celestine’s precise hand pressed heavily against her mind.

Closing the distance between them, Sigrid took three deliberate steps toward Celestine, her crimson eyes staring down the Countess without a single hint of retreat. "You understate your own formidable reputation, Countess Everhart. Despite being a mere twenty-seven years of age, you are a pivotal figure within the royal court through your esteemed work as the chief accountant of the crown. You are lauded as a shining role model to every young noble lady in the capital, and highborn mothers constantly praise your name as the most elegant, worthy maiden in the entire kingdom."

Sigrid leaned in closer, stepping into Celestine’s personal space until her quiet voice was a sharp whisper aimed directly at the Countess’s ear. "And above all else, you harbor a deeply unhealthy, terrifying infatuation with Maria."

Surprisingly, Celestine did not flinch or recoil from the bold accusation. She merely cleared her throat with practiced elegance, her posture remaining remarkably straight as she slowly looked Sigrid up and down with an unreadable gaze. Turning toward Beatrice, Celestine offered a polite, clipped bow. "Pray excuse my sudden intrusion, Lady Beatrice. We shall speak again very soon, Duchess." Without waiting for a response, Celestine glided away, her silk train trailing silently across the marble floor.

Lady Beatrice watched the Countess depart, her brow deeply furrowed with concern as she turned toward Sigrid. "Whatever was that about, Sigrid? The air between you two turned positively frigid."

"It was nothing to concern yourself with, Beatrice," Sigrid answered smoothly, her face instantly melting back into a soft, unbothered smile.

Beatrice studied Sigrid’s expression for a long moment, letting out a heavy, resigned sigh before turning back toward the main garden where the other noble ladies were lingering near the fountain. "Ladies! In thirty minutes’ time, we shall commence our secret recreational activity for the afternoon!" Beatrice announced, her authoritative tone echoing across the hall.

Returning to her seat opposite Sigrid, Sigrid smiled. "I must thank you for your grace, Beatrice. Organizing such a massive gathering is no small feat. You are truly marvelous, Beatrice," Sigrid praised gently. "To take on such a burden to comfort those left behind by the war is a noble endeavor indeed."

"I am the daughter of one of the oldest Dukes who marched to the front lines," Beatrice replied, her gaze softening with fond memory. "I feel it is my absolute duty to support our society. When my beloved mother was still alive, she would host these gatherings with even greater flair than I could ever hope to manage. Even when she was bedridden with fever, she would reach out to comfort others, extending her charity to the commoners of the fief as well. After her passing, I lacked the authority to invite commonborn women into the estate, but I still hope to follow in her footsteps and become a hostess she would be proud of."

Sigrid looked upon Beatrice with genuine admiration, her voice filled with deep sincerity. "Your mother would undoubtedly be immensely proud of the woman you have become."

"Thank you, Sigrid," Beatrice said softly. Then, looking up with genuine curiosity, she asked, "What of you, my friend? Do you not wish to follow in the footsteps of your own mother?"

Sigrid’s eyes flinched slightly at the unexpected question. Noticing the subtle shadow crossing the Duchess’s face, Beatrice immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks flushing with deep embarrassment. "Forgive me, Sigrid! I am so terribly insensitive. I completely forgot that your mother passed when you were so very young."

"Please, do not distress yourself, Beatrice. It is quite alright," Sigrid reassured her gently, placing a hand over her own heart. "My mother died abruptly when I was merely three years old. She never had the opportunity to share her passions or speak of her life with me. It was only recently that I discovered the specific tea she cherished was imported directly from Noravelle. I hate to admit it, but I possess no clear footsteps of hers to follow."

Tears welled in Beatrice’s eyes as she reached across the small table, firmly grasping both of Sigrid’s hands in hers. "Do not speak of yourself in such a tragic manner! I apologize deeply for stirring up such painful memories. You may not even realize it yet, Sigrid, but in your dignity and strength, you might already be walking the very path she laid for you."

Sigrid’s crimson eyes glinted with a quiet, complex emotion as she bowed her head. "Thank you, Beatrice."

"Now, do not allow yourself to grow discouraged!" Beatrice added with a playful, spirited grin, releasing Sigrid’s hands. "As the Duchess of Aethermor, you will still be required to host a grand season ball before the year ends, whether you wish to or not!"

Sigrid blinked, looking mildly amused. "And why, pray tell, must I subject myself to such chaos?"

Beatrice looked at her with feigned confusion before breaking into a light laugh. "Because you are a high noble lady, my dear! Socializing is your official duty!"

Standing up from her seat, Beatrice clapped her hands together to summon the attention of the entire room. "Ladies! It is time for our surprise endeavor!"

The estate maids promptly filed into the conservatory, carrying large wooden trays laden with fine linens, silk threads, needles, and embroidery hoops. Beatrice explained that each lady was to craft a personalized, hand-embroidered handkerchief to send to their loved ones serving at the southern front. Throughout the afternoon, Beatrice moved gracefully from table to table, assisting the ladies with intricate stitching and offering words of encouragement. Time passed swiftly in pleasant productivity, and soon the afternoon light began to fade into twilight as the guests began taking their leave.

When Sigrid approached Beatrice to bid her farewell, Beatrice gave a subtle hand signal to her head maid. The servant stepped forward carrying an ornate, polished wooden box stamped with the official seal of the Noravelle Merchant Guild.

Sigrid paused in pleasant surprise, looking from the chest to her hostess. Beatrice smiled brightly, stepping closer. "This is a small personal gift from me to you, Sigrid. A rare batch of your mother’s favorite tea, straight from Noravelle."

For a brief moment, Sigrid remained quiet, her crimson eyes softening as she looked at the woman before her. "Thank you, Beatrice. You are truly far too kind." The maid handed the heavy box over to Lilith, who accepted it with a low curtsy.

Beatrice leaned forward and wrapped Sigrid in a warm, gentle embrace. "We are true friends now, Sigrid. I shall come visit you at the citadel very soon."

Sigrid let out a quiet chuckle, returning the embrace. "I shall hold you to that promise."

With her personal guard surrounding her, Sigrid began her walk down the grand stone driveway toward her waiting carriage. However, as she rounded the sculpted hedge near the outer courtyard, a solitary figure stepped out from the shadows, blocking the paved pathway. It was Countess Celestine Everhart.

Sigrid came to a halt, her guards instantly tensing beside her. "Yes, Countess? Why do you block my path?"

Celestine stepped forward slowly, her hands folded neatly over her stomach, her serene expression entirely unreadable. "You uttered a rather fascinating statement back on the terrace, Duchess. Yet, I do not recall ever allowing my unwavering devotion to be so brazenly displayed to the court."

"Anyone equipped with functioning eyes could easily discern the wildly unhealthy infatuation you harbor for Maria," Sigrid replied, her voice laced with absolute disdain.

Celestine’s eyes widened slightly, taking on a rapturous, almost unhinged glow as a soft sigh escaped her lips. "Who could possibly witness her grace and not fall utterly spellbound? Have you truly looked upon her? She is a divine gift from the heavens above—the sole pure, untainted soul wandering amongst the sea of human filth that pollutes this miserable world. No ordinary mortal is truly deserving of her light."

"Which naturally includes you," Sigrid countered coldly, her lip curling into a bitter smile. "By your own definition, you are part of that very filth, meaning you are equally undeserving of her."

A sharp flinch crossed Celestine’s flawless features, her gentle composure slipping for a fraction of a second before her gaze hardened into pure malice. "Lies! I may not possess her absolute purity, but I alone possess the intellect to protect her! We complement one another perfectly. Nothing was ever supposed to harm her grand destiny, yet you dared to sully her immaculate name before the entire realm!"

Sigrid looked at the Countess with profound, unadulterated disgust. It was utterly astounding how a woman renowned for her brilliant mind could be so blindly, hopelessly enslaved by Maria’s superficial facade. "I haven’t the faintest idea what madness you speak of. Maria and Ragnar conspired maliciously against me, their own deceit was laid bare before the populace, and they suffered the consequences of their own actions. Why lay the blame at my feet rather than facing Maria’s undeniable faults?"

"Because she is entirely free of fault!" Celestine declared softly, her voice trembling with fanatic conviction. "She does not err! I know with absolute certainty that you engineered those wretched gazettes out of pathetic, bitter jealousy! And even if she did commit those acts, she must have been forced into it for a righteous, higher purpose!"

Sigrid let out a long, weary sigh, muttering under her breath, "I truly pity those who lack basic common sense." Looking Celestine directly in the eyes, Sigrid took a firm step forward, her aura radiating cold authority. "You disgust me, Celestine Everhart. Who would have ever guessed that a woman celebrated as the brightest mind in the royal treasury would turn out to be so utterly, hopelessly pathetic?"

Without waiting for a response, Sigrid brushed past the Countess, her heavy fur cloak sweeping against Celestine’s skirts as Chester and Maude fell into formation behind her.

"You will pay dearly for this insolence, Duchess!" Celestine called out after her, her voice echoing darkly against the stone walls of the courtyard.

Sigrid did not even bother to turn around. She merely let out a sharp, amused smirk as she reached the carriage door. "Do try your best, Countess," she called back coolly, stepping into the luxurious carriage as the footman shut the door behind her.