Chapter : 47
Windsor faintly furrowed his brow, as if he himself had just been scolded. Noticing this, the woman sipping her tea curved her lips into a soft smile.
“As it turns out, he left behind a notebook for the day I’d be alone. He sat at his desk, forcing his ailing body, just to write it.”
“A notebook, you say?”
The Grand Duchess gazed at her teacup with a distant look and nodded. “Yes, a notebook.”
“They called me the queen of high society, but the truth is, there wasn’t a single thing I could do on my own. I left all household matters, big and small, to Gregory. Perhaps… he was more worried about me, the one who would be left behind, than about himself as he was leaving.”
Her quiet voice was steeped in regret—sounding like longing, yet also carrying a trace of resentment.
“From trivial things like handling bank affairs to more serious matters like managing estates, he wrote everything down in detail. Even who to go to when problems arose. Thanks to that, even after Gregory passed away, I was able to come this far without ever having to rely on anyone.”
After a brief pause, Windsor responded bluntly.
“It seems Lord Chamberlain loved you very much.”
“Yes, he loved me dearly. But I didn’t realize it at the time. It was only after Gregory died that I understood just how much he loved me. That’s why I resented him, too. If it was going to be like this, he should have expressed it more while he was alive—stirring up the heart of the one left behind like this… even making it impossible for me to remarry. Don’t you think?”
With a half-playful, teasing expression, she met Windsor’s gaze. Deep wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes.
“Do you have someone you love?”
“…No.”
The answer slipped out before Windsor could stop himself. Only afterward did he wonder why he felt so unsettled.
Suddenly, Jacqueline’s face came to mind. The suffocating tightness returned, and he quickly pushed the thought away.
“I see. If you ever meet someone you love, make sure you express your feelings. Otherwise, they’ll suffer in silence like I did. From what I can tell, you seem just as stingy with your expressions as Gregory was.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Windsor faintly creased his brow, thinking of how he had come to be introduced to a lawyer, only to end up receiving unsolicited romantic advice.
He lifted his teacup and glanced at the Grand Duchess.
“The aroma is nice. It seems to be tea from Mount Noyard.”
After commenting on the fragrance, he took a sip, nodded in satisfaction, and set the cup down.
Watching him, the Grand Duchess smiled with her eyes.
“I heard rumors that Lord Preston is unfamiliar with aristocratic etiquette, but it seems those were false. You’re impeccable.”
Windsor slightly raised his eyebrows again. She had bluntly spoken aloud what others merely thought but never said.
“Oh my, if that offended you, I apologize, Lord Preston. Perhaps it’s because I’ve grown old—I sometimes fail to distinguish what should and shouldn’t be said. I wasn’t like this when I was younger. Hoho.”
“It’s fine. Please don’t worry about it.”
Swallowing a bitter smile, Windsor adjusted his tie.
What had once felt unnecessarily complicated and cumbersome had, at some point, become second nature. As he recalled that this was all due to Jacqueline’s constant nagging, his gaze lowered quietly.
That tightness in his throat returned. Resisting the urge to loosen his tie, he instead fiddled with his teacup.
“Now.”
Clapping her hands lightly together, she looked at Windsor with eyes that sparkled like a young girl’s. He raised his head to meet her gaze.
“Shall we get to the point? You need a lawyer, correct? I’ve heard through certain channels that His Majesty is preparing a trial to gain custody of young Benjamin. Quite some time ago, in fact.”
“Yes.”
Windsor readily affirmed her words. The Grand Duchess’s eyes curved again.
“Good. As it happens, there’s a capable lawyer I know. Needless to say, he’s beyond the King’s influence. In fact… he should be arriving about now.”
Knock, knock.
As soon as she glanced at the clock on the wall, a knock sounded.
“Ah, that must be him. Come in.”
The door to the drawing room opened, and behind the butler appeared a neat-looking young man. With practiced ease, he approached the Grand Duchess and kissed the back of her hand.
“It’s been a while, Your Grace. You’re as beautiful as ever.”
“That’s not quite a fitting greeting for an old woman.”
“But I mean it. It may not be the dazzling beauty of a twenty-year-old, but your elegance and wisdom make your beauty comparable even to a goddess.”
“You still have a way with flattering words. Let me introduce you—this is Lord Preston. And Lord Preston, this is a brilliant graduate of the Royal University’s law department. He also has experience working as a lawyer.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Preston. I’m Evan Knox. We meet again.”
Evan extended his hand with an easygoing demeanor.
“……”
Windsor frowned slightly as he stared at the young man smiling brightly like sunlight. When he made no move to take the offered hand, Evan raised an eyebrow slightly and withdrew it.
Windsor slowly turned to the Grand Duchess.
“Did you not say he was a lawyer? As far as I know, Mr. Knox currently runs a publishing company.”
“That’s right.”
She nodded casually, then glanced at Evan. “Shall I explain, or will you?”
Evan smiled and spoke.
“As Her Grace said, I graduated from the Royal University’s law department and briefly worked at a law firm. However, due to differences in values with my father, I started a publishing business instead.”
“A capable lawyer beyond the King’s influence—there’s no one more fitting than Evan. His father is part of His Majesty’s legal team. I’m sure you’ve heard the name—Count Brandon Knox, founder and owner of Cloud Law Firm.”
“…Ha.”
At last, Windsor let out a dry laugh. He looked at the young man again. Evan was still smiling brilliantly, without a trace of shadow on his face.
Left alone in the drawing room, Windsor maintained a silence deeper than night. After a few failed attempts at conversation, Evan simply shrugged and leaned back in his chair.
Evan Knox.
Windsor stared intently at the man before him. Whenever he saw him, Jacqueline Somerset naturally came to mind—along with the fact that they had once been engaged.
Windsor almost tugged at his suffocating tie, then stopped. He didn’t want to appear disheveled in front of Evan, who sat with perfect composure.
Instead, he pressed his temple lightly before looking at him again. Their eyes met, and Evan offered a sociable smile.
Evan Knox was a flawless man. From head to toe, he was wrapped in refinement. Even without trying, a natural dignity seeped from within him.
Windsor watched him quietly. He was very close to the kind of future Windsor envisioned for Benjamin.
Then, recalling that thought, Windsor frowned again.
“Lord Preston.”
Evan tried once more to start a conversation, his friendly smile meant to ease Windsor’s wariness.
“I understand this may be difficult to discuss, but you must tell me everything. Only then can I determine how to approach the case. His Majesty’s legal team will come fully prepared. Or perhaps…”
Trailing off, Evan added with a bitter smile,
“They won’t hesitate to use any means necessary.”
“Why do you want to take on this case? You must know it’s a trial everyone avoids.”
Windsor’s slow question crossed the table, his sharp gaze probing as if to uncover Evan’s intentions.
He added quietly,
“We’re not close enough to justify taking on such risk.”
It sounded like a warning—or perhaps a refusal. But Evan, seemingly unfazed, answered lightly.
“It’s embarrassing to admit, but you could call it a belated act of rebellion. And personally, I feel grateful toward you, Lord Preston.”
“Grateful?”
Windsor looked at him questioningly. He could think of no reason why Evan would feel gratitude toward him—if anything, Windsor himself disliked the man.
Evan nodded with a bright smile.
“Yes, of course. You are Miss Somerset’s employer, after all.”
Windsor leaned back slowly, one eyebrow raised.
“And what does that have to do with you, Mr. Knox?”
“Ah… it seems you don’t know yet.”
Evan scratched the end of his eyebrow, smiling shyly. His slightly flushed cheeks made him look like a boy with a fever—something Windsor found particularly irritating.
“Miss Somerset is my fiancée.”
“Your former fiancée, isn’t she?”
In an instant, Windsor’s eyes turned cold. At the emphasis on “former,” Evan nodded with a bitter expression.
But soon, he smiled again—his face filled with confidence.
“Soon, she’ll be my fiancée again. I’m working hard at it. In any case, that’s why I’m grateful to you, Lord Preston—for taking such good care of Miss Somerset.”
Ha.
Windsor let out a silent scoff. Evan’s eyes, as he looked at him, were filled with goodwill.
Windsor clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. To Evan, he wasn’t even a rival.
That reality ignited his anger.
Windsor Preston—the illegitimate son of Marquis Bentley Preston.
A half-blood marquis.
He was a successful man. Rising to the rank of lieutenant colonel through his own efforts, no one could call him a failure.
And yet, none of Windsor Preston’s achievements mattered here. These people valued inherited bloodlines more than accomplishments earned by one’s own hands.
The son of an opera singer, Windsor Preston could never stand on the same starting line as them. No matter how perfectly he mastered aristocratic etiquette, that truth would never change.
“So I would like to be of help to you as well, Lord Preston. I’m sure Miss Somerset would want that, too.”
“Not yet.”
At Windsor’s curt reply, Evan slightly raised his eyebrow. Windsor stood and extended one hand toward him.
“Once I’ve verified your abilities, I’ll contact you again.”