The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 109: The Offer

Chapter 109: The Offer

As the Imperial carriage departed, Rosalie reclined in her seat, allowing her eyelids to shut close. Today marked the pivotal moment when she would ascend to the esteemed title of Marquess, becoming the sole steward of the venerable Ashter family. Though she fully comprehended the ceremonial nature of the occasion, requiring her to merely accept yet another document from the Emperor, an unshakable sense of unease crept over her. It settled in her chest, tightening like a vice, and sent quivers of apprehension down to her wrists.

’Perhaps it’s because I’ve rarely found myself in his solitary company. He has been an elusive figure, seldom gracing the pages of the novel. Despite his affable demeanor in our brief encounters, I still cannot help but feel intimidated by him.’

As the elegant carriage transported Lady Ashter and her loyal knight to the grand entrance of the Imperial Palace, the girl was warmly welcomed by none other than Lord Silvester Pharder, a scion of a lineage that had dutifully served the Rische family for generations. He gallantly guided her directly to the illustrious Throne Room, where His Majesty awaited her arrival with great anticipation.

With measured yet unwavering steps, Rosalie crossed the threshold of the vast, towering doors that led into the resplendent chamber, her eyes widening in wonderment. The room enveloped her in a breathtaking display of regal opulence, leaving her both utterly astonished and slightly perplexed. Slowly, she advanced toward the magnificent golden throne, finally coming to a pause as she respectfully acknowledged the Emperor with a graceful and courteous bow.

"I humbly extend my respectful greetings to His Majesty, the Emperor, the very Heart and Soul of the esteemed Rische dynasty."

Her cordial greeting, however, was met with an unsettling and weighty silence that hung in the air. An unsettling thought began to creep into Rosalie’s mind – had she unwittingly made some egregious mistake? Trepidation swirling within her, she lifted her head, directing her gaze with utmost care upon the Emperor, who, in return, was meticulously scrutinizing her entire presence with an earnest and somewhat solemn countenance.

Finally, the Emperor’s features softened ever so slightly, and he spoke, his tone carrying a hint of cool detachment,

"How have you been feeling lately, Lady Rosalie?"

Rosalie’s thin eyebrows arched in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected interest in her well-being.

"I beg your pardon?"

Undeterred, the Emperor pressed on, his inquiry tinged with a persistent curiosity,

"Have there been any changes in your condition?"

Suddenly, it dawned upon her – the Emperor’s inquiry was not about her well-being at all. Instead, it held a far more personal and intimate agenda, aimed at discerning whether she carried the weight of impending motherhood.

"No, Your Majesty, there have been no changes."

She finally replied, her response crisp and clear.

A furrow formed on the Emperor’s regal brow, his penetrating gaze still locked onto the lady before him. He released a brief, resigned sigh and gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

’There is no helping it, then. The time will come.’

With that acknowledgment, he finally rose from his seat, his measured strides carrying him closer to Rosalie. His lips curved into a distant yet polite smile as their bodies aligned in proximity. He paused and extended a rolled-up document adorned with the prominent red Imperial seal, presenting it to her.

"Congratulations, Lady Ashter. With this document, you are now officially bestowed the title of Marquess. However, it is crucial to recognize that this signifies not only your ascension to stewardship of your family’s wealth but also your status as Duchess Dio, a distinction above all else."

With grace, Lady Ashter accepted the parchment, her gaze fixated upon its regal seal, a peculiar, weighty sensation enveloping her shoulders.

’Duchess Dio, they say. It’s been well over a month since the wedding, yet I still don’t wholly inhabit that role. Perhaps it’s for the best.’

Clutching the document in her right hand, she nodded in acknowledgment, offering the Emperor the same composed and respectful smile.

"I appreciate your guidance and understanding, Your Majesty."

The man cleared his throat, and after a brief pause filled with contemplation, he resumed speaking, his voice now adopting a gentler tone,

"Now, my daughter has informed me of your desire to establish a charitable organization aimed at aiding the impoverished denizens of the Capital’s slums and undertaking a comprehensive overhaul of our orphanages. Is that an accurate representation of your intentions?"

Rosalie responded with a solemn nod.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"In that case, I wish to extend my support to you, Lady Rosalie."

Once again, an unexpected pronouncement left Lady Rosalie slightly taken aback, causing her to arch her eyebrows in surprise.

"What exactly do you mean, Your Majesty?"

"Charity, my dear, is akin to a business venture, not unlike any other endeavor."

The Emperor clasped his hands behind his back and embarked on a deliberate saunter toward the towering, lavishly adorned window. His voice assumed a more ceremonial cadence as he continued his discourse,

"Regardless of the wealth you currently possess, Lady Rosalie, it is imperative to acknowledge that your personal resources will eventually dwindle. Consequently, you will need to secure ongoing support for your philanthropic endeavor."

Rosalie’s gaze steadfastly trailed the Emperor’s movements, and a disconcerting sensation swept over her, as if the very ground beneath her was slowly shifting.

’He is absolutely right. I’ve envisioned channeling the entirety of the Ashter family’s assets into this charitable venture and then departing, but I never gave thought to what would transpire once those resources inevitably wane. How soon might that happen? A decade? Two? That’s a relatively short span, indeed.’

Refocusing her attention on the Emperor, she ventured forward, prompted by a newfound awareness,

"You are absolutely correct, Your Majesty. However, I want to emphasize that I will also have the unwavering support of Her Highness Princess Angelica—"

A sudden, rather unceremonious interruption halted her in her tracks.

"And what course of action will you pursue once Angelica is no longer available?"

The abrupt and somewhat harsh interjection caught Rosalie off-guard. Her brows knitted together as a surge of unanticipated frustration mingled with her already preoccupied thoughts.

’Incredible... He seems to possess no faith in his own daughter, as though he has already resigned her to a grim fate... Perhaps Angelica was correct all along.’

In an effort to quell her mounting vexation, Lady Ashter released a weary sigh and posed a question, her voice tinged with a sense of resignation,

"Then... What, Your Majesty, would you suggest as an alternative course of action?"

The Emperor pivoted, his gaze locking onto Rosalie’s perplexed countenance, and a reassuring smile graced his lips.

"Given the news of Damien and my son’s safe arrival at the border, I believe it is fitting for us to arrange a formal gathering, wouldn’t you concur?"

The lady’s eyes widened, poised to raise another query, but the man preempted her with a well-prepared response,

"I propose hosting an Imperial banquet in your honor, Lady Rosalie. This would signify my endorsement of your charitable endeavor. Subsequently, both you and Angelica will be tasked with persuading others to contribute their resources. It is as straightforward as that."

Rosalie averted her gaze, fixing her eyes on the towering window that framed the Emperor’s figure.

’If only you were equally diligent in your own duties... What a magnanimous Emperor you are.’

Nonetheless, she accepted the situation at hand, redirecting her luminous gray eyes toward the man and offering a nod.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, I graciously accept your generous offer."