I Seducing the Black-Hearted Duke Wasn't Me - Chapter 48

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 48
“Can you believe it? His Majesty entrusted the betrothal celebration to Isabel Merciel!”
“What on earth could the Emperor be thinking?”
Hmm, that’s practically verging on lèse-majesté, isn’t it?
In any case.
The noblewomen, their faces grave as judges, added their voices in disbelief.
The name ‘Isabel Merciel’ carried that much weight.
‘I never thought it would come to this.’
Swallowing a quiet sigh, I took a sip of tea.
I was in the VIP lounge on the top floor of the Eldbrelle hotel.
I’d come to discuss business with Doresa, but the noblewomen who’d claimed these seats for the day had waylaid me into joining them.
I’d planned to make pleasant conversation and slip away.
It didn’t look like that would be easy.
‘I shouldn’t have said anything. Of all the bad luck, my tea party invitation overlapped with theirs.’
As always, the ladies couldn’t help themselves when they saw me—each desperate to secure me for her own gathering, and when I tried to gracefully decline their earnest pleas to attend next weekend, somehow I’d blurted out a date that now seemed to haunt me.
And so here we were.
“I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but the Merciel lady is rather like a fox.”
“Exactly. Isabel Merciel has made victims of more than one person, you know.”
“Victims?”
What on earth had she done to make them recoil so?
Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked softly. The noblewomen answered as if they’d rehearsed it.
“She seduces men!”
What? Seduces men?
The Emperor’s intended bride?
‘A woman who goes around seducing men, you say?’
That doesn’t sound right.
My lukewarm reaction set their eyes ablaze. They scooted their chairs closer.
Then, quivering with excitement, they leaned in and spoke in hushed tones.
“The most famous case was Bianca Blanche, of course—now the Grand Duke’s daughter married to the Prince of the Roman Kingdom.”
“Whether you know it or not, the original candidate for Empress wasn’t Isabel Merciel but Bianca Blanche. Everyone assumed Bianca would naturally become Empress through their prenatal betrothal.”
“But then! While the betrothal talks were still going on, the Merciel lady seduced His Highness, who was Crown Prince at the time. You see, the Merciel lady and His Majesty had been childhood friends. She was also close with Bianca Blanche.”
“She was close with both, so they positioned her as a bridge between them. But who could have predicted it would turn out like this?”
Really, they all agreed, poor Miss Blanche had been so wronged.
“The broken betrothal came out of nowhere and it was absolute chaos. The Imperial Court felt the pressure, so they even gave the House of Blanche a seat in the Council to make amends.”
“Does that make up for it? If Miss Blanche hadn’t been so devastated, would she have fled to another country so quickly after the betrothal was broken? She couldn’t bear to see the friend who betrayed her clinging to her ex-betrothed.”
“Really… it’s just so tragic. Miss Blanche was such a tender-hearted lady.”
‘So something like that happened.’
I’d never taken much interest in high society gossip anyway, and besides, the change in the Emperor’s intended bride had occurred when I was young.
I’d entered the Academy at fifteen, a place of complete residential isolation where outside information was severely restricted.
All I knew were fragments of rumor that had drifted in from beyond the walls.
“And that’s not all. After she stole her own friend’s betrothal, apparently that wasn’t enough—she went on to seduce the betrotheds of other ladies as well!”
“Yes. Lilibet the Baroness isn’t here today, but you know of her, don’t you? Her betrothal nearly fell apart too.”
“The reason she’s been away from court is that she was caught flirting with a knight in the palace, and His Majesty sent her away for reflection.”
Good heavens.
‘From the rumors alone, she sounds like quite the formidable woman.’
A woman who couldn’t live without men, they said—or a ruthless temptress who, having already ensnared the Emperor, couldn’t bear to see anyone else happy.
A torrent of invective poured from the noblewomen’s lips.
“So be careful, Marquis Jaherette. You must never let that lady get close to you.”
“That’s right. She might steal the Grand Duke away from you.”
All the noblewomen spoke in unison, their faces stern. The earnestness in their eyes suggested this was no jest.
I set down my teacup with an awkward laugh.
“I appreciate your concern, but I hardly think that’s likely. I don’t know her well enough to say, but still—the Grand Duke is the Emperor’s brother, after all.”
“That’s exactly why you should be more careful. Oh… surely you don’t mean you don’t know?”
What? Don’t know what?
I tilted my head in confusion, looking around at the ladies gathered at the table. They gasped, “Oh goodness!”, then leaned in and whispered seriously.
“The Merciel lady is the Grand Duke’s first love! It’s quite the famous story—how did you not hear about it?”
……
…What did you just say?
“Oh my, you really didn’t know. That must be why His Highness entered the Temple—it was because of that, wasn’t it?”
“Exactly. Right after graduation from the Academy, His Majesty became betrothed to the Merciel lady. It must have been quite a shock for the Grand Duke. After all his years, he graduated only to discover his love was already betrothed to his brother!”
“She took the matter so badly that she was barely clinging to the path of priesthood—half-resigned to it, really. You truly didn’t hear any of this?”
“No. I knew nothing of… oh.”
Wait. Now that I think of it.
“As you grow older, people start pushing you toward betrothals and marriage. But I didn’t want to marry anyone but one person. Without them, I simply couldn’t do it.”
Servan had answered me with a laugh when I asked—before he’d finished his duties as High Priest—whether he’d truly be content having his priesthood stripped away. That was the reason he’d become a priest.
Unrequited love for someone he could never be with.
‘I loved someone for years, but we could never be together.’
Ah. So that meant….
“Marquis? Are you all right?”
“My, you seem quite shaken.”
“No. I’m fine. Just a bit surprised, that’s all.”
I offered a thin smile alongside my reassurance and drank the tea that had long since gone cold.
It tasted bitter and astringent, all warmth long fled from it.
“In any case, be careful.”
“Don’t let your guard down for an instant. Do you understand?”
The noblewomen clasped my hands tightly, insisting they were on my side.
I laughed awkwardly and gave a lukewarm acknowledgment that I understood.
* * *
Several days later.
It was the day many had warned me to be cautious about—when we were to discuss the matter of my betrothal party with the young lady of House of Merciel, that troublesome person everyone had spoken of.
“Hah.”
I drew a deep breath as I descended from the carriage, my gaze lifting to the vast mansion before me.
“Wow. As expected of a ducal residence. It’s certainly larger in scale than the marquis house.”
The Jaherette Marquis Residence was grand and ornate, displaying accumulated wealth generously, yet the ducal mansion surpassed it entirely.
The towering spires and symmetrically extending wings overwhelmed the eye.
The outer walls, built from dark grey stone, bore every trace of the passing centuries, yet in doing so they spoke to the family’s long history. The heraldry and sculptures carved here and there were no mere decoration—they testified to the authority and lineage of House of Merciel.
If judged by appearance alone, the marquis residence was sleeker, more modern, but the ducal mansion, ancient as it was, emanated a quiet dignity and refinement befitting true nobility.
The sheer weight of its presence seemed to bear down on my shoulders as I stood there, momentarily dazed.
Bang!
A massive door—easily ten times the size of my body—slowly swung open, and from within bounded a woman.
“Are you the Marquis of Jaherette?”
Her voice followed—clear and bright as pearls rolling across a silver tray.
I understood at once.
So. Here she was.
Come on, then.
I steeled myself and raised my head.
“Oh! Goodness, hello!”
“…….”
A woman with the look of a doll—small, soft, pliant in appearance—greeted me warmly with a smile.
I regarded her in silence.
Her golden hair, pale and luminous as if melted in sunlight, was nearly white. Beneath delicately trembling lashes, eyes the colour of a clear sky gazed out at me.
Eyes as transparent as a shallow lake, bending gently like wind when she smiled even slightly.
A woman like a sprite drifting on a spring breeze.
And the way she trembled faintly, like a fawn newly born into the world, was utterly endearing.
“The young lady of House of Merciel is the Grand Duke’s first love, right? It’s such a famous story—how could you not know it?”
Ah. So that was his taste.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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