Please Be Patient, Grand Duke

Chapter 45.2

Marilyn tried her best to hide her disappointment, and smiled as she said, “As you wish, my lord.”

He bowed, and with long strides he crossed the great hall and disappeared into a room on the west side.

Everyone swallowed nervously as they watched the young duke leave. Marilyn looked away then too, and absentmindedly rubbed the faint scar on her neck. It had healed well, and was almost completely faded, but every time the memories resurfaced the skin stung.

“So…. Marquis Shelby is well?” Wade, who was about to follow Claude, asked in a usually hushed tone.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Good.”

Marilyn’s eyes gentled at the answer, and she smiled innocently.

Kieran also left with Wade, leaving Rosina behind, and the two ladies looked to where their partners used to be and laughed with some bitterness.

Marilyn looked over to where Canillian had been standing a moment ago, but neither Canillian nor the young count that was circling around him were anywhere to be seen.

The Princess was chatting with other ladies, so Marilyn called her maid over.

“Did you see where Sir Canillian went?”

“He left the hall a moment ago. It seemed like he was going out.”

“Quietly find him and tell him that the accessory on the dress he returned is missing. Ask him if he can remember anything, and then come tell me.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“You should ask gently, so as not to draw attention or alarm him. If he is with someone, watch and wait until he is alone before you approach him. Understood?”

“Of course, my lady!” The young maid replied, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. This was the maid’s first time in the great hall, and she was practically giddy with the adventure of her task.

To set a child like her loose was akin to releasing a swarm of busy bees. She would buzz all over the grounds until she found Canillian, of which Marilyn had no doubt.

Marilyn put on her best smile again and went back into the crowd.

She was certain now that she would root out the truth and deal with it, no matter how unpleasant that truth turned out to be.

She was certain.

***

When Kieran’s engagement is over, come back to Cosoar quietly. Before winter. Observe the other nobles today. If you’re confident that you can be amongst them, then I’ll give you a choice.

Lia rubbed the kinks out of her sore legs and sat on the bench. The aroma of flowers perfumed the air around her, and she leaned back, hiding herself amongst the blossoming rose bushes. She released a quiet sigh.

She can go back to being a lady. After a year, she could choose to go find her mother. But what did she mean by a choice? If she chose to live as a noble, then she would have to live as a man forever? Or did she mean that she will allow her to live as a noble lady?

She dreamed of a comfortable home, where she always had enough to eat and her clothing fit properly, but she did not want to live as a noble.

Distracted by her thoughts, Lia absently toyed with a blade of grass that she plucked from the well trimmed lawn.

It was then that Tholin, who had been chased off by the Marchioness earlier when he was trying to talk to her in the palace, suddenly popped around the corner of a rose bush.

“Here you are!”

She frowned and looked up at him.

“Why do you keep following me?”

“I heard that the reason you got hurt was because you were kidnapped by anarchists?”

“So?”

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“Dressed as a lady.”

“So, what are you curious about?”

Tholin’s cheeks flushed as Lia cut him off.

“That lady, it was you, wasn’t it?”

Tholin looked at her rather solemnly, but Lia scoffed.

“So, what if it was me? Are you interested in a man that dresses like a lady?”

At her vague answer, Tholin shouted, “You’d embarrass me then? Rather than answer my question?”

“Your question was rude, young count.”

“You’re just a copy of the young marquis.”

Tholin was trembling, his fists clenched.

Lia knew that when a young man looked like Tholin did, that a fist fight was soon to follow.

“You’re still rude. If you’re going to keep making my life difficult, then I’ll go tell my brother that you think so poorly of him that to imitate him would be an insult.”

“Ha, me? No. It’s Sir Claude that can make your life difficult!”

She already knew that, so it didn’t fluster her as he seemed to think it would, but it did still bother her.

Tholin’s expression remained intense, and she realized that he had no intention of backing off. Rather than leave, he kept hurling questions at her, asking her what she did with the men, and wasn’t it shameful to wear a dress? He kept circling around, trying to provoke her.

Lia let his words wash over her, barely hearing him, and stood to leave.

“I’ve heard tales of your, shall we say, particular tastes, young count, and I am not interested. If you’ll excuse me.”

Tholin followed Lia as she moved to leave the garden.

“Stop there!”

“And if I don’t? Are you asking for a duel?”

Tholin’s anger flared at Lia’s dismissive tone.

“Apologize for the insult you gave me!”

“You’re the one who insulted me, young count.”

“How dare you!” he yelled, now shaking with anger.

Looking at him, she couldn’t help herself from having the terrible thought that all she would have to do is give the anarchists some information about Tholin. She also wondered why the anarchists only seemed to target downtrodden women, rather than go after someone like Tholin, who was a classist to his bones.

But rather than say any of this, Canillian, picked up her pace, walking so fast that she was running as she exited the garden. Her destination was the gallery of the great hall. Despite her usual independent nature, she knew that Tholin would stop harassing her if she stood by the Marchioness again.

“Canillian!” Tholin’s enraged shout echoed against the building walls.

“Are you only composed when you’re around the Marchioness?”

Off balance, she pinwheeled her arms and jerked to a stop, surprised by Claude’s voice.

Before she lost her balance, a strong arm wrapped around her back, steadying her. Flustered, Lia instinctively grabbed his arm, as Claude pulled her closer to him, leaning them back against a wall.

“Canillian.”

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