The Villain's Dead Wife

17. Tender Encounter

When My mother learned that I had chosen Lisa as my lady-in-waiting, her reaction was nothing short of a dramatic soap opera. She threw her hands up in the air like she’d just witnessed a calamity of biblical proportions. “Are you absolutely certain about this choice, Mery? This is... unconventional at best!”

I remained resolute. “Yes, Mother. I’m certain. I believe Lisa is the right choice for me.”

My mother’s eyes narrowed, her expression a blend of frustration and defeat. “Fine. If you’re so determined, I’ll relent. But if Lisa is to serve you, she’ll need a crash course in etiquette and noble conduct. She must be presentable!”

I couldn’t help but grin as she sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging as if she’d just accepted the weight of the world. “Thank you, Mother.”

Thus began the grand spectacle of Lisa’s transformation. She took it upon herself to personally train Lisa in the fine art of noble etiquette, from perfecting the delicate art of tea pouring to mastering the proper way to curtsy without tripping over one’s own feet.

Lisa looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her attempts at elegant movements often resulting in her stumbling into furniture or accidentally knocking over teacups. I watched with a mix of amusement and sympathy as Lisa tried to navigate the minefield of high society manners. It was like watching a sitcom where the clumsy heroine was trying to juggle flaming torches while blindfolded.

Meanwhile, my mother took on the role of a strict headmistress, her face a mask of stern concentration as she corrected Lisa’s every mistake with the patience of a saint and the fervor of someone preparing for a royal coronation.

Oh, this is going to be entertaining, I thought, trying to stifle my laughter as Lisa fumbled through her lessons. Who knew becoming a noble’s lady-in-waiting could be so... comical?

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Evelisse stood before Duchess Elowen, who was engrossed in a book about fabrics, her brow furrowed in concentration. Evelisse’s head hung low, and her hands were clasped tightly in front of her.

Gathering her courage, Evelisse spoke up softly, “Your Grace...”

Duchess Elowen looked up from her book, her expression shifting to one of warmth and concern. “Yes, Evelisse?”

With a hint of pleading in her voice, Evelisse continued, “Your Grace, my mother is very ill, and she is alone. Could I be granted leave to visit her?”

Duchess Elowen’s eyes softened as she set aside her book. “Oh, Evelisse, I am so sorry to hear that. Family should always come first. Of course, you may go and be with your mother. Take the time you need. We will manage here in your absence.”

Evelisse’s eyes brightened with gratitude. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will return as soon as I can.”

The Duchess gave her a reassuring smile. “Take care, Evelisse. I hope your mother feels better soon.”

Evelisse started to leave, but Duchess Elowen called after her, her tone gentle but firm. “Evelisse, don’t go alone. I’ll arrange the carriage for you.”

Evelisse looked flustered, her hands fluttering nervously. “It’s okay, Your Grace. I can manage by myself.”

Duchess Elowen shook her head, her eyes filled with empathy. “You’re important to my daughter, Evelisse. I don’t fully understand why, but I can’t let you leave so recklessly. Besides, anyone who comes under our roof becomes our responsibility.”

Evelisse gazed at the Duchess, seeing in her a reflection of her own mother’s kindness. The warmth and familiarity in the Duchess’s eyes made it impossible for Evelisse to refuse.