In a world where everything seems perfectly logical and pragmatic. The thought of anything existing outside of the realm of what one already knows seems impractical.
That is how Melinda Morrison sees life.
The very life where she has shared nearly e...
When you open the eyes of one, it opens the gates to others.
"I see the potential of what the Emporium is attempting to achieve, and I have high hopes that in the coming months, it will exceed expectations. I've already witnessed the significant impact it has had on ladies who previously had no aspirations beyond their noble duties as women. I want my sister... before it's too late, to make something of herself, to find confidence and leave him,"
I stood outside the city residence of the Count of Ovesta, my eyes sweeping over every inch of the luxurious estate that occupied a prime position in the heart of the imperial capital. The Da Nuavaquor family—an old-money lineage steeped in wealth—had clearly spared no expense. From the meticulously maintained gardens to the grand façade of the mansion, it was obvious that the family's fortune had been well preserved through the generations. But wealth, as I knew too well, did not protect a woman from the trials of marriage.
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And that was why I had come. The family's fortune meant little to a daughter-in-law who had not yet inherited the title of Countess, still living under the rule of her father-in-law, the patriarch who ran the household with an iron fist.
I straightened, adjusting the brim of my flowered sun hat as I made my way toward the waiting staff. Minister Lucillia's words echoed in my mind, a reminder of the true reason I was here.
"Her husband is a drunkard and a heavy gambler, drowning in debts. He's squandered everything she brought into the marriage, including the assistance I provided to keep her afloat," Lucillia had said, her voice tight with frustration.
"Why doesn't she seek a divorce?" I'd asked, though I already knew the answer.
"Pride," Lucillia had scoffed. "She won't walk away, no matter how bad things get. Please, Your Grace, think of her. I would owe you a great debt if you could help her find the strength to break free."
"Your Grace, Duchess Chandrelle, welcome to Nuavaquor Manor," Came a voice, breaking me from my thoughts. The head butler, Amal, bowed low in greeting. "I will escort you to the Countess."
The Countess? I thought, my brow furrowing. I had come to see Lady Thelka, the wife of the current first son of the Count, not the old matriarch. Lady Thelka had finally accepted my request for a private afternoon tea after weeks of avoiding my invitations. She had canceled at the last minute more times than I could count, citing illness or sudden travel plans. So I had taken it upon myself to visit her here, where she would have no excuse. I forced a polite smile, taking Amal's outstretched hand and allowing him to lead me through the grand foyer. Hopefully, I hadn't wasted my time on a courtesy visit to a Countess I had no interest in speaking with.
As we entered the sitting room, Countess Nuavaquor greeted me with a wide smile, flanked by a small army of maids eager to serve. Of course, I thought, suppressing a sigh. To them, I was more than just a visitor—I was a symbol of status, a celebrity in my own right. As the proxy Duchess of Kladena, the younger sister of the Empress, and the daughter of the powerful Da Plarinu family, I carried a certain allure. Add to that my myriad of successful business ventures, and I had become someone everyone in Klocsas wanted to know. The women wanted to befriend me, and the men... well, they saw an opportunity.
