Lady Cinderella - Chapter 4

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

Lady Cinderella, Episode 4

* * *
“I’ll take care of cleaning the study.”
“Very well, my lady.”
Ella volunteered to clean her father’s study on purpose. Lately, with the way the “young miss” moved so briskly and efficiently, the servants no longer dared to treat her carelessly.
No matter what anyone said, Ella no longer heard a word of it. Rather than wallowing in pointless self-pity, saving her own life right now came first.
The whereabouts of Duke Wellington, who had truly become her last hope, were printed plainly in the newspaper.
[Duke Wellington Wins a Great Victory on the Gordon Great Plains.]
It was last week’s article, and it said he would return to the capital in three days, so there was a good chance he was already back at his residence in the capital.
Even if she went straight to Duke Wellington’s Mansion on the eastern side of the Imperial Palace, she would never be able to meet the duke in person. She had to find another way to reach him. Borrowing her father’s stationery, Ella hid in the study and wrote the letter without anyone noticing.
‘If I simply send it on its own, it’ll be of no use at all.’
Ella frequented the Imperial Library, so she knew about “Registered Mail.” Unlike the post offices used by commoners, the Imperial Library handled matters concerning the nobility directly.
Property disputes among the nobles happened so often that, if you prepared three copies of the same letter and submitted them, the Imperial Library would deliver them personally to the noble in question under its own name.
If Ella used ordinary mail, the letter would likely be filtered out by the underlings and the chance of it reaching the duke’s hands was dismally low. Registered Mail required that the letter be delivered to the recipient in person and that receipt be confirmed.
It was a scheme she had devised with the thought that this method might get the letter safely into the duke’s hands. Of course, whether the authority of the Imperial Library would carry any weight with a man of the duke’s stature was uncertain. Ella was frightened, but she would rather die than give up without even trying.
“Should I write my own name…?”
If she wrote her name as it was, it was far more likely she would simply be ignored. Common sense said that a nameless house’s countess-daughter who had not even made her debut in society could know nothing about war.
Ella had often been told that her hobby of memorizing Duke Wellington’s war record and the empire’s military history by heart was odd. That was why it stung. What if she were taken as a silly countess’s daughter trying some trick to catch the duke’s attention? Ella bit her lip.
“If he does think that, then he’s only the sort of man that it implies.”
Since returning from the miserable future, Ella’s values had turned completely upside down. One ruined life was more than enough. Still, since this letter was going to the Duke Wellington she so admired, Ella gripped her trembling hand tightly and wrote her name out in a graceful, sweeping hand.
[Ellaidis Millenia Lloyd, with love.]
How long it had been since she had written her full name. In this house, or rather, in this world, no one treated Ella as a noble lady anymore, but Ella knew it: the only one who could protect her worth was herself.
For two years she had lived alongside a husband who was worse than having none at all, and the reason she had not broken down was that, even under the shadow of that husband, Ella had painstakingly built her own life, one piece at a time.
If not for that damned husband, Ella would have spent her days peacefully, embroidering to earn her living and reading her beloved war chronicles at the Imperial Library, just as she always had.
There would be warm, freshly baked bread, and she could share a little warmth by giving the milk delivery boy a few extra coins now and then. The occasional news of Duke Wellington’s victories had brought Ella much comfort.
Whenever he won on the battlefield, her heart would swell with pride, as though she herself had won. Remembering those peaceful days, when she had been alone yet never lonely, tears fell from Ella’s eyes before she even realized it.
“Honestly. What’s wrong with me.”
As she altered Kate’s dress, Ella felt that the skills she had mastered had not faded at all. Kate, who had been yelling at her to hurry up and fix it, grew delighted once Ella embroidered decorative points on it, and for once she even shared her candy with Ella.
If she could, she would have wanted to run out of this house that very moment, but it was not yet the time. Ella recalled her maternal grandmother’s face, pale as she lay sleeping. The brooch, her mother’s keepsake, that she had returned to her grandmother had been handed down through the maternal family for generations, said to be a wish for a daughter’s happy marriage.
She knew her proposal to the duke was reckless. She had returned the brooch because she knew she could never become a happy bride, yet still, she wanted to dream, just once, of herself as the bride of the man she loved.
Recalling her grandmother, who had prayed for Ella’s happiness up until the moment she closed her eyes, Ella once again steeled her resolve. She could not be made any more unhappy. This time, Ella wanted to protect her own happiness.
First, if she could meet Duke Wellington and have the value of her knowledge recognized, she might be able to slip out of this house with more ease. As the old saying goes, learning without thinking is of no use. Ella wiped away her spilled tears and tucked three letters into the inner pocket of her apron. There was no good in anyone finding out that she had cried for no reason.
From now on, she had to be stronger still. Ella tidied the study as though nothing had happened and went down the stairs to attend to her next task.
* * *
The Registered Mail officer at the Imperial Library found himself at a loss, faced with a gray-haired lady in a black dress.
“So you truly want this sent to Duke Wellington, my lady?”
“That’s right.”
Lady Ellaidis Lloyd’s name was indeed listed in the noble register. Paired with a black dress that plainly looked like mourning attire, an old emerald earring that clashed with it, and a sapphire necklace on top of that, she was dressed to the point that anyone might mistake her for a maid playing at being a noble lady.
The contents of the letter were even more outrageous. It seemed to be filled with nonsensical babble and delusions, yet dismissing an official request from a noble on his own judgment made the officer nervous about the consequences.
“Why on earth are you sending this? I’ll process it for you, of course, but if the Duke’s side files a complaint, it would be troublesome for me.”
“His Grace will understand the contents once he reads them. It’s fine.”
The officer scoffed at Ella’s words. At a glance, it looked like nothing more than someone who had read the newspaper report and scribbled some nonsense.
‘Is this some new way of trying to draw attention?’
With a ‘Bang!’, the seal of the Imperial Library was stamped squarely at the center of the envelope. The sender was Ellaidis Lloyd, her status a countess’s daughter, and the recipient was none other than Grand Duke Carlisle Jeremiah Wellington.
If it had been a love letter, there would at least have been a reason to refuse it, but since it was all content whose context he could not grasp from beginning to end, he could not reject it either, and the officer grew anxious inside.
“We’ll try, of course, but there’s no guarantee that His Grace will receive it personally.”
“I understand.”
“We’ll notify you of the result at your residence in about a week.”
“No. I’ll come back in person, so please don’t contact my home.”
Ella waved her hands and refused the officer’s offer. If her father found out she was doing something like this, he would surely confine her to the house so she could never go out again. Ella lifted her skirt slightly in a bow and left the Imperial Library.
* * *
Grand Duke Carlisle Jeremiah Wellington’s day was quite busy. It had been only four days since he returned to the capital. He cut his sleep shorter than when he was on the battlefront and devoted himself to dealing with the mountain of documents piled before him.
“The accounting report on military supplies has arrived!”
“…Put it there.”
Kevin, the chief secretary to Carlisle, came in with his arms full of documents, and a sigh escaped him at the sight of his master’s haggard state. There was no longer room on the desk for any more papers. He set the documents down on the coffee table and cleared away the teacups that were piled in disarray.
“Why do you insist on shouldering all this work alone, Your Grace?”
“Because it’s not something I can hand off to anyone else.”
Every task was handled smoothly and flawlessly, and his focus, even with mountains of documents stacked before him, was unmatched. He didn’t so much as twitch. His face stayed stiff and unmoving as he pushed the documents he had reviewed into a corner.
“I’ve checked everything here. Tell them to double-check that pile over there.”
“What would you like for your meal?”
“Never mind. Just bring me another cup of tea.”
“You really should eat on time, though.”
“Later.”
No matter how strong his constitution, he would never endure this punishing pace for long. The biggest problem was that there wasn’t even a hostess at his side to look after him, yet the Grand Duke had not a shred of interest in marriage.
“You still have no intention of marrying, I take it?”
“Marriage? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Calaile let out a snort at Kevin’s words, as if to say he had no time to waste on such nonsense, and brushed the matter aside.
Having stood out the most among the royal men of his generation, Calaile drew the Emperor’s wariness like a lightning rod. For him, marriage was nothing short of a luxury and a gamble.
“I have no intention of tangling some unsuspecting woman’s life along with mine.”
“Your Grace.”
At present, the Crown Prince Faction and the Third Prince Faction were locked in a fierce struggle over the Right of Succession. With both sides standing so evenly matched, if he were to stir up a scandal with the daughter of any particular noble house, the political wrangling within the Capital would surely be shaken to its core.
Moreover, with one victory after another reported from the front, Calaile’s standing had steadily solidified, contrary to the Emperor’s original intentions. Since the Emperor could no longer lay a finger on the Grand Duke himself, his sword’s point would naturally turn toward the family of the woman who would become the Grand Duke’s wife.
Whenever he was forced to appear at official functions, gazes from ladies admiring him from afar would pour in, yet he had long ago come to understand just how much a woman who became his wife would have to give up.
Even setting all those problems aside, he likely could never become a tender lover. He had seen plenty of how Crown Prince Johannes behaved beside him, but he could not imagine himself doing the same.
“Even so, Your Grace, you absolutely must attend the Emperor’s birthday ball this time.”
“I suspect that simply not showing my face will be a fine enough birthday gift for him, don’t you think?”

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