Apparently, the young lady’s engagement to the son of the Oldbran ducal house had been arranged. My father, as the steward, was there to deliver the duke’s formal response and the engagement certificate, bearing the royal seal. Since it was such an important document, it wasn’t something a servant or attendant could deliver—it had to be my father. But why did I have to go too? When I asked, I was told it was because I’d be accompanying Lady Maris when she married into the duke’s household. So basically, this was a preliminary introduction and greeting with my future workplace. No choice for me, apparently.
At the ducal mansion, after my father greeted the duke, I was left to wait in the entrance hall, told to “be a good girl.” Translation: stand quietly and don’t cause any trouble. While I was waiting in a corner of the grand foyer, the door opened, and someone walked in.
“I’m home.”
“Welcome back, young master.”
It seemed that Lady Maris’s fiancé had just returned. Following the example of the duke’s attendants who rushed to greet him, I quickly knelt down and bowed my head. Then, a poised alto voice echoed through the hall.
Before me stood an angel.
He had soft platinum hair, amber eyes, flawless skin, and a perfectly proportioned body that suggested he’d grow tall, like the duke himself. If the phrase “beautiful boy” existed for anyone, it was for him.
This was Mikhail Edward Oldbran, eleven years old.
The fiancé of Lady Maris.
I was so struck that I audibly gulped.
“Oh? I don’t recognize that face. Are you a guest?”
“No, I’m a messenger from the Marquis of the Frontier’s household. Her father is currently meeting with the Duke to deliver a reply and coordinate the schedule for the marquis’s visit to the royal capital.”
“I see. So, this girl is the maid of my fiancée?”
“Yes, she will accompany Lady Maris when she joins your household and will eventually serve as one of your family’s maids.”
“Hmm. And what’s your name?”
“Greetings to you, my lord. My name is Alma… If I may, I have a humble request.”
It was unheard of for a mere servant to make a request of a duke’s son. The steward of the ducal house raised his eyebrows sharply. I knew it was improper. But I couldn’t let this chance slip away.
“Oh? What is it?”
“I wish to paint your portrait, my lord.”
“A portrait…?”
“What insolence!”
“Yes, I am fully aware that this is an outrageous request. However, this is my only option.”
Despite the steward’s angry, reddened face, I knelt and clasped my hands, my own face pale as I pleaded.
The young lord tilted his head, looking down at me.
“And why do you say this is your only option?”
“Well, the truth is, Lady Maris is still very young and doesn’t yet understand what marriage truly means. I am embarrassed to admit that I lack the education and eloquence to properly describe what kind of person you are to her.”
“…Maris is only five years old, isn’t she?”
It’s customary for noble children to learn about marriage starting around age ten. An engagement at the age of five was practically unheard of. Lady Maris’s engagement was arranged early due to her mother’s bedridden condition. Her father and brother were stationed on the frontier, and if something were to happen to her mother, there would be no guardian available. The marquis had no siblings, and her mother’s relatives lived far away in a rural noble family. A new guardian was urgently needed. The Duke, being the Prime Minister, understood the marquis’s situation, which is why the arrangement was made.
“Lady Maris is not allowed to leave the estate, and for various reasons, we do not accept visitors from outside. It is likely that my lord and Lady Maris will not meet for quite some time. I swear I would never misuse it. I simply wish to paint a portrait that will help Lady Maris recognize you at first sight.”
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