TGDHC Chapter 81

Chapter 81 – Intercepting

The three young women who had just been humiliated flushed red with anger and embarrassment.

“Well, I’m busy, so I’ll be going. I have an important meeting soon,” Cecilia said with a mocking smile, then left the dress shop.

Meisel and the two noble girls fumed silently, while the shopkeeper and staff wisely backed away.

***

On the way back, Meisel said nothing.
At first, the two barons’ daughters tried to chat with her, but since she gave no response, they soon began talking among themselves.

“The Duchess must really be remarkable.”
“Maybe she was educated as an heir back in the capital?”
“She’s just a daughter, though.”
“Still, her thinking is different from ours. Wasn’t it the Duchess who suggested Lady Cecilia write those recipes at the tea party?”
“I’m a little envious, honestly.”
“Envious? Of what?”
“Well, she can go outside freely and even run a business. And the Duke supports her so strongly.”
“Don’t make it sound like we’re prisoners in our homes.”

Meisel cut in sharply, irritated by the word envious.
One girl shrugged.
“What else can we do besides sit in cafés or come to dress shops like this?”

Us? Do you dare compare yourselves to me? Meisel ground her teeth.
Just watching me choose a gown should be an honor. You ought to be grateful for the experience.

This was why one needed companions of the same rank—even rivals were better than being stuck with these two.

“I actually envy Lady Cecilia too,” one girl admitted.
“Well, yes, as the Duchess’s maid, she must get plenty of favors.”
“Not just that—she even publishes articles under her own name. I heard she’s paid for them, too.”
“As if the pay is worth much.”
“That’s true…”

But even the one dismissing it looked wistful, recalling how Cecilia had been admired at the shop.

“I think the magazine’s owner is a distant relative of hers,” another added.
“Oh, if only I had relatives like that…”

The more they talked, the more Meisel remembered her humiliation at the shop.

‘Do you think just anyone can be mistress of Blenheim?’

Cecilia had said that while glancing at her.

You have nothing—yet you dare act arrogant because you’re a maid?

Did Cecilia think being near the Duchess made her important?

Meisel couldn’t strike at the Duchess directly, but she could easily target the daughter of a mere viscount.
Her little “warnings” so far—small humiliations at tea parties and gatherings—hadn’t seemed to affect Cecilia at all.

To truly hurt her, I need to destroy what she values most.

“…!”

An idea struck Meisel like lightning.

“I suddenly have urgent business elsewhere.”

She looked at the two girls, eyes gleaming.
“You’ll have to get off here.”

“What? But then we—!”

“You can hail a carriage, can’t you? Take care going home.”

The driver was given a new destination, and the carriage rolled away, leaving the bewildered noble girls standing in the street.

***

“Calm yourself. Have some tea first.”

Alchent, the owner of Northern News magazine, looked timid and anxious, but his overall impression was friendly.
I (the Duchess) urged him to sip his tea, trying to ease his nerves.

After a hesitant sip, he began explaining.

“My father founded Northern News during his arts business days, to promote plays and operas.”

I already knew most of this from Cecilia—most of his father’s ventures had collapsed during the Demon War, leaving only small ones like Northern News.

“Recently the magazine nearly shut down, but… thanks to Your Grace, it survived,” Alchent added gratefully.

“In Rondo, opera is thriving, so I sought more investments to rebuild the business there.”

“From the Merchants’ Guildmaster?” I asked.

He dabbed sweat from his forehead and nodded.
“Yes. Baron Gelfry and other guild investors put in funds.”

“But now they’ve demanded their money back?”

“Yes,” he groaned.
“They want the full repayment with interest. It seems Baron Gelfry bought out the shares of five other investors.”

“And if you can’t repay, he wants the magazine instead?”

“Exactly. He’s had his eye on Northern News for a while, but I didn’t expect him to act so suddenly.”

The contract had loopholes, leaving Alchent powerless.

“It’s practically my father’s legacy. I’ve been begging everywhere for money…”

His voice trailed off.

I had already heard the gist from Cecilia. There was no point in making him explain further.

Instead, I pulled out a prepared check and slid it across the table.

His eyes widened.
“Your Grace?”

“Use this to cover the shortage.”

He gasped at the sum.
“This is more than enough! Thank you, Your Grace!”

He had come hoping for a loan, but hadn’t dreamed I’d cover the entire amount. He leapt to his feet, bowing repeatedly.

“I’ll never forget this favor!”

“This isn’t charity. It’s an investment.”

“Of course!”

“And I have one condition.”

He sat quickly, tense again.
“Y-yes?”

“I want Cecile’s Recipes published as a book.”

“A… book?” he stammered.

“Not to take it from you,” I clarified.
“Once enough recipes have appeared in the magazine, publish them as a collection. I’ll cover the printing costs with my investment, but I’ll take a share of the profits.”

He considered it, then nodded eagerly.
“That’s very possible. We could even pay royalties to the contributors.”

The idea had come from Cecilia boasting that shopgirls had made scrapbooks of her recipes.
If published, the book could sell beyond the North—a tidy extra income.

Alchent thanked me over and over before leaving.

When Cecilia returned, her lips were tightly pressed with guilt.
“Your Grace, thank you. I’m so sorry…”

It was the first time I’d seen her so discouraged.

“It was careless of me…” she murmured, sinking into the sofa when I pulled her down beside me.

“It’s not your fault,” I said.
“True, perhaps if you hadn’t provoked her, things might have gone differently. But deliberately trying to ruin someone’s livelihood? That’s inexcusable.”

Only days after Cecilia bragged about humiliating Meisel at the dress shop, Alchent had received demands from the Guildmaster to hand over Northern News.

I didn’t know the exact details, but Meisel was almost certainly involved.

But could a mere count’s daughter really sway the Guildmaster?
Perhaps he, too, had grudges against me, making their alliance convenient.

Cecilia looked pale, blaming herself for Alchent’s plight.

But I couldn’t stand by and let Northern News—and Cecile’s Recipes, my own creation—fall into the wrong hands.

Should I ask the Duke for money?

He would surely be apologetic, thinking my dowry was insufficient, and would hand me a check at once.

But no—I can’t use his funds for this. Alchent isn’t one of our household staff like Retta was.

This is why one must always keep a secret fund.

I sighed, opening my coffer to find only a few emergency coins left.
Then my eyes fell on the jewel box Ferdinand had given me.