8

Here I was, standing in front of Duke Henrick's office door. While I was in the carriage earlier, I kept rehearsing what I was going to say. For a brief moment, I even considered not going home, but then I realized that if I were to run away, I'd need to be prepared. So, in the end, here I am. Let's just explain to him what Marquis Staffon and I arranged last year.

And maybe, just maybe, it's finally time to pass this responsibility to him. Haha!

I was about to knock when the door swung open. It was Evander, and behind him stood the butler. "You may enter now, Duchess," the butler announced before both of them stepped aside and left me alone to face the Duke.

Inside, the Duke was already seated, calmly sipping his tea. I couldn't help but notice the spread of snacks on the table. "Have a seat, Duchess," he instructed, gesturing toward a chair. I took the furthest seat, a solo armchair, putting as much distance between us as possible.

As I sat down, his gaze lingered on me.

Why is he staring? Did I sit weirdly or something?

"I've already been briefed on the arrangements you and Marquis Staffon made regarding the exchange of their crops for our excavated ores," he began, his voice steady and authoritative.Oh? He already knows? Then why am I even here? Wait—he knows about that deal?

"Since the contract is nearing its end, do you plan to extend it or not?" he asked.

The contract he was referring to was the deal I struck with Marquis Staffon last year.

It happened after a series of relentless storms hit Audovera territory. Weeks of heavy rainfall led to devastating floods that wiped out most of the crops. Entire livelihoods were lost, and with half of the territory's food supply coming from those destroyed crops, things looked grim. Even if they replanted once the rains subsided, it would take months before anything could be harvested.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. So when the floods finally receded, I swallowed my pride and went begging to Marquis Staffon.

Marquis Staffon oversees the eastern granary, the largest granary in the empire. Not only do they have vast stretches of farmland, but they're also conveniently spared from storms most of the time. Lucky them. Meanwhile, in Audovera, with barely enough arable land to begin with, everything we plant gets obliterated by floods. Life's just so unfair, isn't it?

Marquis Staffon is the unyielding type—a man of strong responsibility and nobility. At seventy years old, his vast experience made me question how I could possibly persuade him. So, with no other choice, I lowered my pride all the way down.

I made a deal for Marquis Staffon to supply Audovera with crops for a year in exchange for iron ores. Agriculture might not be Audovera's strong suit, but the territory is rich in mines. It wasn't exactly my place to barter the mines or their resources, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.

While making that deal, I even knelt in front of him. Yes, knelt.

"How could you kneel so easily? Have you no pride, young lady?" he'd asked, half-amused and half-disapproving.

"Pride won't feed my people, Marquis," I had replied bluntly, not bothered by the softness of the carpet beneath my knees.

That earned a hearty laugh from the old man, and not long after, we formalized the agreement into a contract to make it "legit," as he put it. The deal worked out for both sides anyway; Audovera's iron ores are high-quality, so they weren't losing anything in this arrangement.

But now, back in the present, am I going to extend this contract or not?

Sht!* I had no idea what to do. After a moment of panic, I blurted out, "In my personal opinion, I'd like to change the contract."

Henrick raised a brow. "Why so?"

"Instead of having them continuously supply us with crops, I'd rather ask for something long-term. I want them to send experienced agricultural workers from the east—people who are knowledgeable about farming techniques. They wouldn't need to stay here forever, just long enough to teach the people of Audovera their methods. Our citizens aren't used to farming, and we desperately need expertise to make it sustainable."

There, I laid it all out. A practical and forward-thinking solution, right? Now, if only he wouldn't shoot me down.

The Duke seemed to ponder over my suggestion for a moment. "Alright," he said casually.

I furrowed my brows. "Alright... what?"

"I like your idea," he clarified. "I'll let you handle it since the contract was originally between you and Marquis Staffon."

Wait. What?! That sounded like a lot of work.

"As you wish, Your Grace," I replied reluctantly, biting back a groan. After all, I was the one who started this whole thing.

"Now that we're done with that matter," he said, setting down his teacup and fixing me with a serious gaze. "Let's talk about this divorce nonsense."

EH?!

"Oh, look at the time," I blurted, glancing at my imaginary wristwatch like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Let's discuss this again soon, Your Grace."

Without waiting for his response, I bolted out of the room, practically slamming the door behind me. The second I was outside, I sprinted down the corridor as if my life depended on it. A few startled servants stopped in their tracks, their expressions a mix of confusion and alarm.

But I didn't care. I wasn't about to stick around for that conversation.

Wasn't he supposed to ask for the divorce? Why did it sound like I was the one initiating it? This whole situation was absurd.

Too much had happened today. I needed to rest—desperately.

---

The sunlight streaming onto my face was what finally woke me. I'd overslept, though I couldn't really call it restful sleep. After tossing and turning all night with thoughts swirling in my head, it was no wonder.

"Come in," I called when a knock sounded at the door. Lucy entered carrying a basin of water for washing, with Butler David following close behind her.

"Good morning, Duchess. You'll be joining His Grace for breakfast today," David informed me.Eh? Stressful this early?

Before I could respond, more maids filed in, arms laden with what I assumed were preparations for the morning.

"We're here to help the Duchess get ready for breakfast," one of them said.

Breakfast? Just breakfast? From the bustle, you'd think I was attending a ball.

After what felt like an eternity of primping, I found myself seated in the grand dining hall. As expected, Duke Henrick was already at the far end of the table.

I took a deep breath and greeted him politely, "Good morning, Your Grace."

He gave me a curt nod as I sat down, eyes briefly scanning the table. The amount of food prepared was absurd—far too much for just the two of us. What a waste.

"Let's eat," he said shortly, signaling the start of the meal.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the clinking of utensils. I focused on eating, trying not to dwell on the oppressive atmosphere. Food, after all, was more important than awkwardness.

Then he dropped a bomb. "Just to let you know, we'll continue our talk later."

I froze mid-chew, silently cursing my fate.

"Yes, I understand, Your Grace," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

I resumed eating, though my appetite waned. Lucy approached hesitantly, her movements trembling. Her expression wavered like she was debating whether to speak or not.

"What is it?" I asked her quietly, trying to ease her nerves.

Before she could respond, Butler David stepped forward with a grave look on his face.

"Please pardon my sudden interruption, Your Grace," he said.

"What is it, David?" Duke Henrick asked, his tone sharp but calm.

"I regret to inform you that Her Majesty the Empress has passed away."

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My fork slipped from my hand, clattering loudly onto my plate. Tears pricked my eyes, and before I could stop them, they began falling in steady streams.

No... not her...