Chapter 6

However, with the duchess's speech droning on endlessly, he couldn't keep thinking about the maid.

"Today, you won't have to smell any alcohol. Please rest assured, Your Highness."

The woman stared at him intently. Was there something else she wanted to say? She fidgeted with her evening bag, adorned with tiny crystals and tassels, and only after Leon tilted his head to urge her on did she finally speak.

"…Please call me Rosalind."

Leon was taken aback by this unexpected request. Just a moment ago, she had been acting like a Chihuahua, barking to hide her fear, and now she was suddenly trying to close the distance.

But they were, after all, a couple who would have to live together. The distance that needed to be bridged would have to be closed eventually. It would have been a grave discourtesy not to accept her extended hand.

"……"

But even as he parted his lips to call her by her name, the simple three syllables wouldn't come out.

Rosalind Aldrich. Rosalind. Rosalind. The name didn't roll off his tongue easily.

A woman as old-fashioned as her name.

Her didactic tone and nun-like demeanor made her elegant evening dress look like a habit.

Come to think of it, there was a character in the Winston family who had the same tone and demeanor, turning a fine suit into a cassock.

'Wouldn't she suit Jerome better?'

But the one who might receive a title someday was not Jerome. Therefore, his brother was never considered in the duchess's marriage proposal.

"If you call me Leon instead of Captain Winston, I would be happy to do so."

Leon smiled slyly at the woman, as if he were up to some vulgar trick. Of course, he wasn't.

She was a woman with a timid side. She wouldn't call him by his name first, and he knew it. Given her prudish nature, she wouldn't appreciate any light-hearted advances from a man.

As expected.

The duchess hesitated for a moment, then only managed a shy smile. Her gaze returned to the window, and the car fell silent once more.

Leon succeeded in letting the woman retract her extended hand without being rude.

The car stopped at a pier bathed in the red sunset. The river shimmered with gold, and the luxury cruise ship was lit up with orange lights.

Leon crossed to the other side of the car and opened the door. Leading the duchess to the cruise ship, he took out the ticket given to him by Pierce.

The cruise would last four hours. The message on the ticket, telling him not to leave his seat early, was as good as a note from his mother.

'Boring night ahead.'

Following the waiter in black uniform, they boarded the elevator to the top deck of the cruise ship. As the driver lowered the lever, the elevator began to ascend smoothly. When he raised the lever again, the elevator jolted and shook roughly.

"Ah…."

The hand that had been resting on Leon's arm like a ghost now clung to him. The duchess, looking flustered, quickly released her grip.

The driver, standing behind her, winked at Leon and smiled. It seemed to be a surprise show for the dating couple.

'What a pointless act…'

He turned his gaze coldly, sensing that the driver was expecting a tip.

The elevator's grille door opened, and they followed the waiter down a corridor carpeted in soft carpet. As the massive doors at the end of the corridor opened, the music that flowed out made Leon smirk.

At the grand piano in the corner of the restaurant hall, a man in a tuxedo slid his fingers over the keys. It was classical music, not the jazz that his mother found vulgar.

Dark mahogany chairs with floral fabric, columns adorned with seashell and feather patterns, and a ceiling painted with frescoes. The classic interior was perfectly to his mother's taste.

She was a conservative person who still insisted on whalebone corsets even as they became relics of the past. Looking at it, even his intended fiancée was a reflection of his mother's prudish tastes.

Sitting across from each other at a table by the window, they took the menus offered by the waiter. The wine menu was immediately returned, and they chose their dishes.

"What do you like?"

"I'll go with your recommendation."

She must have been raised with the old-fashioned education that taught women to be meek and not express their own opinions. The duchess was of no help in choosing the evening menu.

She was a different person from the one who confidently said she didn't like alcohol a moment ago. An unpredictable woman. He didn't want to know her.

He ordered the most expensive dish and started a pointless conversation. The weather, the view outside the window, the duke's health... The conversation often faltered and drifted.

He was already bored.

"How is your work going lately?"

The duchess's question was unexpected. She must know his nickname and what he does, yet she asked.

'Does she really want to hear it?'

After three years of infiltrating as the driver of the Western Command, the Blancheard rebel rat was finally caught, causing the Western Command a great deal of trouble.

He had spent days and nights trying to figure out what information had leaked.

And how he had made that cunning rat tremble with fear.

How amusing it was to see the rat foam at the mouth when his pinky nail was pulled out.

'If I tell her, she'll turn pale.'

Ah, one more thing. How amusing it was to see the plump face of the commander, now as gaunt as a mummy.

Would she laugh or be disgusted if he told her?

It turned out that one of the commander's many mistresses was also a rebel spy, putting him in danger of being summoned to the royal court.

What about that mistress?

A female spy. And a prostitute for the revolution. The thought made him feel dirty, so he handed it over to the higher-ups to deal with.

Using women for dangerous and dirty work was despicable. But could he say he wasn't despicable? He didn't care how the higher-ups handled the woman, as long as his hands didn't get dirty.

Such dirty business, a lady who recites poetry and does embroidery in her room didn't need to know.

"It would be a boring story."

The duchess misunderstood his polite refusal and blushed.

"Oh, I see... I ended up asking about military secrets."

"The Western Command's frog-like appearance isn't a secret."

The duchess laughed insincerely at his lame joke. It was unbearably boring.

Hopefully, the addition of a 'Mrs. Winston' to the family would be over soon.

Adding a 'Mrs. Winston' to the family was like bringing home a guard dog.

After marriage, his duty as the eldest son of the family would be complete. It meant he wouldn't have to waste time on such trivial 'dates' anymore.

'Slow progress, it seems there's a tough battle of wills going on.'

Leon didn't know how far the engagement discussions had progressed. The engagement terms were being discussed only by the elders of the families, excluding the parties involved. He had never even asked out of disinterest.

"Leon, you do your job. This is my job."

His mother, who had no intention of getting involved, often said with a serious face, as if she were a movie protagonist rolling up her sleeves. She treated Leon's marriage as her masterpiece.

It was understandable.

Elizabeth Winston. Before becoming Mrs. Winston, she was a lady from a baron's family.

She married his father, firmly believing that he would soon receive a title. But even after her son grew up, she was still just 'Mrs. Winston.' She was the type who would say, with the last breath of a terminal tuberculosis patient, that a lady born into a baron's family must die as a baroness.

'Bad luck.'

All the previous ladies of the Winston family had died as baronesses.

For generations, the Winston family had been the Winston barons. But when the royal family fled abroad due to a rebellion masquerading as a 'revolution,' the title was cut off.

The grandfather, who was the baron at the time, abandoned the royal family and joined the rebels, proclaiming the arrival of a new world. His father often recalled with a sneer how the grandfather acted like a prophet.

The new world he spoke of was one where capital, not status, was power. The grandfather amassed wealth through business while serving as a dog for the first 'revolutionary government.'

The young and spirited cadet that his father was at the time despised the grandfather and followed the royal family abroad. He was called a foolish and incapable person who couldn't see the future.

But the one who couldn't see the future was the grandfather.

The 'revolutionary government' collapsed in less than ten years. Ideals and principles are flimsy things, easily infiltrated by personal interests.

Even the rats who still supported the rebels' ideals would abandon them after a few days in the torture chamber. Ideals don't take the whip or have their nails pulled out.

The royalists and the royal family didn't miss the chaos. The monarchy was quickly restored, and the 'Ripon Republic' became the 'Ripon Kingdom' again.

It was only natural that the royal family would immediately move to punish the traitors upon their return.

Fortunately, his father had made significant contributions to the restoration of the monarchy. The Winston family lost only the baron title. They managed to keep their status as major landowners in the Camden area and their wealth.

The young father was promised by the royal family that if he made significant contributions to eliminating the remnants of the rebellion, the title would be returned. It was said that the father, who had been a dog of the royal family, became an even more loyal and mad dog after that.

And around this time, a baron's family, which had a title but no money, saw the future and invested their daughter to become Mrs. Winston.

'Everyone is so foolish.'

The promise has yet to be fulfilled.