Serena slowly stood up, her eyes calm but gleaming with quiet strength. She offered a faint, polite smile.
"My apologies, Marchioness Ashford," she said gently. "I wasn't aware that taking a brief rest was considered ignorance. I suppose I still have much to learn about pretending to enjoy the company of those who speak loudly but say very little."
The room fell quiet.
The noblewomen exchanged glances, a few holding back laughs. Marchioness Helena's lips pressed together, her gaze narrowing.
Serena didn't falter. She simply smoothed the skirt of her lavender gown, her poise unwavering.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," she added, "I'd prefer not to rest in a room where whispers try to pass for conversation."
With that, she stood gracefully and walked toward the door.
Leaving the room, Serena let out a soft sigh. She had no desire for conflict—especially not when it could reflect poorly on Lucas. All she wanted was a quiet life, far removed from the sharp tongues and glittering façades of aristocratic society. But such peace was a luxury she could never fully claim. Stepping onto the balcony, she welcomed the cool breeze that brushed against her face, offering a fleeting sense of calm.
When Serena came back from the balcony, the banquet was still in full swing. At the center of the grand hall, the Emperor sat flanked by his two empresses, a serene smile on his face. The Crown Prince moved gracefully among the guests, offering greetings, while the Second and Third Princes conversed with nobles in vibrant tones.
Serena watched quietly. It was her first time seeing the imperial family up close. Outwardly, they appeared happy—perfect, even. But she wondered if the harmony was real or just another mask worn for appearances.
Lucas appeared beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked gently.
Serena nodded. "I don't think I can stay any longer… can I return home?"
He paused for a moment, then gave a small nod. "I suppose you can."
Outside, carriages were lined up along the palace gates. Serena approached hers quietly and found the coachman dozing off. She gently knocked on the side of the carriage.
"Xavier," she called, "let's head back to the estate. I'm tired."
The coachman stirred awake, rubbing his eyes. "What about the Duke, Your Grace?"
Serena offered a soft smile. "It's still too early for him to leave. Once we return, send another coachman for him—or if you prefer, you can come back yourself."
The next morning brought an unexpected shock for Serena. Alongside her usual habit of reading books, she also made time for the morning paper. But today's headline made her pause.
"Elusive Duchess Leaves Banquet Midway—Is it an Insult Disguised as an Emergency?"
She calmly read through the article, her expression unreadable.
Rika, standing nearby, gasped. "How can they twist the truth like this? It's completely false!"
Serena quietly sipped her tea. "Can't really blame them. The press thrives on spectacle. For someone like me, who has never appeared in public, doing something out of the ordinary makes for good gossip."
Dyanne scowled. "Then should we tell the Duke? He could confront them—or shut down the publishing house entirely."
Serena clutched the pink opal pendant around her neck. "No. If we escalate this, it'll only fuel more rumors. Worse, it might bring shame to the Selwyn name."
Lucas slammed the newspaper onto the floor, his jaw clenched in frustration.
Eric quietly bent down, picked it up, and scanned the bold headline. His brow furrowed. "What will you do about this, my lord?"
Lucas raked a hand through his hair, his movements rough with agitation. "I should just shut that entire publishing house down."
Eric placed a thoughtful hand beneath his chin, his tone calm but serious. "Even if you silence one, there will always be another. Journalists like these—they're relentless. Stamp one out, and two more will rise in its place."
Lucas exhaled sharply. "But letting this go… feels wrong."