Lady Cinderella - Chapter 33

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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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Lady Cinderella, Chapter 33

As the third son of an eight-child family, he was the same age as the Grand Duke, and since the sixth daughter was Ella’s age, I knew them well enough.
They had squabbled and cursed each other over every reason under the sun, yet in truth they were closer than anyone in the world. The day the sixth sister came home bruised from a fight with a boy in the next neighborhood, the third brother marched over there with a wooden board in hand, demanding to know who had made his little sister cry.
For someone as clumsy with his feelings as the Grand Duke, even teasing was likely a way of showing he cared. And besides, to Miro’s eyes, this Lady was so painfully innocent that teasing her was half the fun.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.”
“Just think of it simply, my lady. Men are surprisingly uncomplicated creatures.”
“Uncomplicated, you say?”
If Kevin found out, he’d surely have Miro’s head for this, but Miro still preferred that his lord Calaile’s love reach its happy ending without incident. Besides, though Ella was clumsy with people, she had seen and heard a great deal, and her learning struck Miro as quite remarkable.
“A man’s actions don’t carry some deep meaning, my lady. What you see is all there is. The fact that His Excellency pays you such attention is simply because he cherishes you that much.”
With such clear physical evidence in hand, Miro did not wish to doubt her. At the very least, he was a living witness to how she had carried him safely through the Oberon battle. Moreover, when Patricia’s gang had stormed the dressmaking shop, Miro had stood outside the door and overheard every word from the stepmother and stepsisters who called themselves family.
‘That was a bit much.’
Had they at least been angry, it would have been bearable, but to hear them whining that without you the dresses couldn’t be altered and that they’d be happy to hand out candy if only you’d come back, Miro had nearly questioned their intelligence in earnest. A lady with nowhere else to go could only stay by the Grand Duke’s side. Since her father had made such a fuss, the Grand Duke had made it perfectly clear that he would protect Ella no matter what.
“I don’t think that’s the case. His Excellency is simply feeling sorry for me, I imagine.”
“Well, from where I stand, it seems my lady is more than sufficiently charming.”
To show respect to the lady he served, Miro deliberately knelt on one knee in a formal gesture. Ella, who had never once been treated this way, didn’t know where to look.
“What are the two of you doing?”
Calaile had come back at some point and stood there with his arms crossed, watching Miro closely. He had put Miro in charge of guarding the future Grand Duchess, and this was what he got for it? And true to Miro’s reputation for being wildly popular even within the Grand Duke’s Residence, Ella’s cheeks had flushed bright red.
“It’s still working hours, and you’ve managed to slip out anyway.”
“I wanted a break. Come here, El.”
Seeing her react like that to a man other than himself, Calaile felt a flame of jealousy flare up mercilessly in his chest.
“Cal?”
“Go see to your business.”
“As you command.”
Ever since his private audience with the Emperor, he had been strangely irritable, and now, as if to keep Miro at bay, his touches had grown far more frequent and intense. Calaile drew Ella by the hand and held her tightly against his chest, as though he meant to stake a claim. Once Miro and the maids waiting nearby had tactfully withdrawn, only the two of them remained in the room.
‘This is clearly a contract, though.’
Because of the change in Calaile’s manner, Ella grew more and more uneasy. Not yet knowing what love was, she could not read the signals Calaile was sending. The atmosphere grew increasingly awkward, and the more Ella tried to avoid his gaze, the more openly Calaile tried to meet her eyes.
“Why are you avoiding my eyes?”
“It’s nothing like that.”
“It’s obvious. At this rate, the investigator might start to suspect something between us.”
He may have come in on his own terms, but he would not leave on hers. Once he had taken hold of a place in her heart, Calaile had no intention of granting her even the smallest exit. Ella longed to settle the Trust Fund matter quickly and go back to Mary’s side, but he had no intention whatsoever of allowing it.
“If we want to show the investigator how close we are, we’d better practice beforehand. Don’t you agree?”
“That may be true, but…”
Calaile had been watching Ella all this time with a rather cool and objective eye. Ella reacted with considerable sensitivity to anything that might harm Calaile’s standing, especially in matters of battle. That she was so devoted in this one thing was nothing short of admirable. Yet she asked for nothing in return, not even a reward, and instead seemed anxious that she might be a burden to him.
‘She’s so kind, really.’
That every action she took sprang from a sincere heart was so plainly visible. Calaile found Kevin, who still refused to let go of his suspicions, utterly exasperating.
“Come here.”
As if to make up for that, Calaile seated Ella on his knee and had her lean against his chest. Her touches had grown more intimate, and she could have pushed him away if she truly wished, but Ella did not dislike him, so she accepted it quietly.
He was probably doing this so she would grow accustomed to physical closeness and avoid arousing the investigator’s suspicion. Unaware of the calculation in Calaile’s heart, Ella assumed this was simply how things ought to be, and leaned against him without a word of complaint.
“How did you spend your day today?”
“Pretty much the same as always. I took on some sewing work, and when I got bored with that, I embroidered the tapestry pattern I’d left unfinished last time.”
“Tapestry?”
Ella rose briefly and showed Calaile the embroidery she had nearly finished. The day she had gone to see the Emperor, the pattern of the tapestry hanging on the wall had stayed in her mind, so intricate and complex was it.
Ella had struggled just as much, working to transfer that memory onto a cloth of similar size. Ella, who usually could not stretch a single piece beyond two days, had concentrated for a full four days since entering the palace, and the result was truly the finest of her masterpieces.
“You embroidered all of this yourself?”
“Is something wrong with it?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
He counted backward to the day Ella had entered the palace. Given all the things that had happened in between, there could hardly have been much time, yet how she had reproduced such a large and intricate pattern, copying it straight onto the design after seeing it only once, was simply astonishing.
‘No wonder that woman Mary covets her.’
Setting aside his affection for Ella, even to a layman like him her skill was beyond ordinary. Given the embroidery on her previous dress, and that the strict Empress had secretly placed a commission without Ella’s knowledge, it would be a real waste to let such talent go unused.
“Where did you learn something like this?”
“From my mother. She was frail, so she always stayed at home.”
Ella felt a faint loneliness settle over her. Ever since she had left the brooch, her mother’s keepsake, behind with her maternal grandmother’s body, a corner of her heart had felt hollow and aching. If her mother had not taught her embroidery, Ella might have ended up in an even more wretched state than she was now.
—El, my dear daughter.
Her mother, who had always called her with love, who had worried for her even at the very end. After that mother passed away, Ella’s happy childhood came to a close. Enduring the cruelty of her stepmother Patricia and her two stepsisters, Ella lived foolishly on, enduring everything without even realizing she was being wronged.
“You said she passed away?”
“Yes, it’s been such a long time now.”
“My parents died too.”
He said that he had only inherited the title of Grand Duke after his parents died in an unexpected accident. His succession at such an unusually young age had provoked no small amount of resentment among his retainers. But he had quelled every bit of that discontent through his own strength alone. The two of them carried the same wound. Before Ella realized it, tears had welled in her eyes, and Calaile gently dabbed them away.
“You must have been so lonely.”
Ella nodded silently. She had managed to survive on her own somehow, yet there were feelings she had never been able to confide, not even to Mary. Like the little match girl who could only gaze through the window at a warm, happy family on a frigid winter night, Ella had been forced to endure a long stretch of time alone, with no way to share her crumbling heart.
“Don’t worry. Now I’m here.”
How much pain had those small shoulders been made to bear? This little girl had been struggling desperately to survive her family, who were more like demons than people. If only he had noticed sooner, had realized sooner. Calaile held the sobbing Ella against his chest and patted her back.
“With that in mind, may I kiss you?”
“No, you may not.”
When he tried to ask permission in what he considered a gentlemanly manner, Ella flatly refused with a face gone bright red, then scurried away.
He wanted to grab her right then and force a kiss, but he feared that if he did it without permission, Ella might not even speak to him. Calaile could only let out a deep sigh and restrain himself.
“What on earth did you do to the Lady now?”
“I asked to kiss her, and she refused.”
“You actually asked her that out loud?”
“Kevin said I should be courteous.”
The air between the two of them was thick with rosy sweetness, and judging by how Kevin had gone out of his way to say such a thing, he had clearly baited the Grand Duke on purpose. Safety first was all well and good, but at this rate the Grand Duke’s lovesickness was only going to get worse. Miro, the most popular man in the room, clicked his tongue and looked at the Grand Duke with pity.
“This is exactly why it doesn’t work for you, Your Grace.”
“What?”
“Handle the rest yourself. I’ll be off now to guard the future Grand Duchess.”
Miro shook his head at the sight of his hopeless lord, who couldn’t even eat a meal set right in front of him, and left the room. Calaile, left standing alone, let out another heavy sigh and looked over the spot where Ella had been.
“This is definitely…”
Beside a half-read book lay a notebook, old and badly worn, sitting neatly in a row. It was the diary Ella had searched for first when packing her things. Should he look or shouldn’t he? He knew it was improper, but there was no other way to uncover the heart of a girl who kept so many secrets. Driven by the wish to peek into the heart of the person he loved, Calaile carefully began reading Ella’s diary from the very first page.
“It seems she only started writing not long ago.”
The first entry was dated one and a half months ago, and she had recorded everything that happened each day without missing a single one. Things like a maid who had deliberately torn Ella’s skirt before she left the house, or the story of the old stable hand who had lost his grandson in this war and quietly wept with red-rimmed eyes on a deep night.
Even the seemingly trivial matters had been recorded thoroughly, leaving nothing out. Then, after the day she had sent that long-awaited Registered Mail, the name Grand Duke Wellington appeared in Ella’s diary for the first time.
[No reply again today. I really don’t have time, so why won’t he just answer? Grand Duke Wellington is an idiot!]
“Who’s calling who an idiot?”

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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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