The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 117: The Crowning Jewel

Chapter 117: The Crowning Jewel

Rosalie settled into a plush chair perched upon the expansive terrace, which afforded a breathtaking vantage point overlooking the Imperial Gardens. Nestled on the second floor of the Main Palace, this haven had been imbued with magic devices, transforming it into a sanctuary of warmth and tranquility.

Enigmatic magic infused the very air, creating a cocoon of coziness. The terrace boasted mystical contraptions masquerading as heating lamps, their gentle radiance casting a soothing embrace over anyone seeking respite from the cacophony and crush of the bustling event hall.

Amidst the opulent surroundings, Rosalie found her desired solace. Her gaze wandered, alighting upon the sturdy wooden railing that ran the length of the terrace. Fixated on the mesmerizing nocturnal scenery, her luminous gray eyes drank in the scene before her—a sprawling tapestry of snow-draped gardens. The canvas was awash in deep shades of blue, purple, and black, all kissed by the delicate, golden hues that emanated from the enchanting lamplight.

As her mind settled into a moment of respite, the lady found herself ensnared by a wave of melancholic reflections.

’December ends in just a few days. Time, it seems, slips through our grasp as we stay caught in the whirlwind of busyness. With our foundation now granted the coveted green light, the prospect of even busier days looms, possibly rendering me oblivious to the relentless passage of time. And then...’

She halted, struggling to rein in her emotions, only to find herself ensnared once more in the web of her thoughts.

’...Then, the moment will arrive for me to depart.’

Her gaze turned skyward, where the inky canvas of night played host to a sparse sprinkling of stars. A wistful sigh escaped her lips as she softly whispered,

"Perhaps it might be wiser for me to depart quietly before Damien’s return... To simply vanish into the shadows, perhaps seek refuge in another kingdom. Surely, Damien would not concern himself with my whereabouts once he meets Evangelina, would he?"

Her contemplation was abruptly halted as the lush, velvety curtain that separated the terrace from the dimly lit hallways of the bustling event hall swept aside, granting entrance to none other than Theodore Xarden. In his capable hands, he bore two tall glasses filled with effervescent champagne, his composed countenance taking on a subtle glow as his eyes fell upon the radiant Grand Duchess.

With a faint, yet congenial smile curving his lips, he settled into a seat beside Rosalie, extending one of the crystal glasses toward her. He eased back into the plush embrace of his chair, exuding an air of easy relaxation as he spoke,

"The crowd is positively abuzz with curiosity, Lady Rosalie. My investment book is currently making its rounds, and soon enough, you will find yourself obliged to return to the hall and engage with each and every noble soul who has expressed their fervent desire to contribute to your charitable endeavor."

His smile broadened, and he playfully clinked his glass against hers, as if proposing a toast,

"I thought you might appreciate a touch of encouragement before plunging back into the midst of these social sharks."

"Thank you..."

Rosalie savored a sip from her glass, her gaze drifting downward to her lap, unable to fully relish the moment for reasons unbeknownst to her. Theodore, after bestowing her with a thoughtful, scrutinizing look, opted to pose a question,

"In some way, My Lady, you still seem dissatisfied. May I inquire as to the cause? You can be honest with me, just as you did back at the bookstore."

The duchess hesitated, uncertain about the swift vanishing of her initial joy. Nevertheless, she chose to heed her heart and share her thoughts, regardless of how they might sound.

"Well... While I am immensely grateful for your support, Lord Xarden, I can’t shake the feeling that I haven’t truly accomplished anything yet. People don’t seem to hold trust or respect for me. Even though my argument persuaded them to back my charitable cause, I can’t help but think they would never have even considered listening to me if not for your esteemed name."

Lord Xarden took another sip from his glass, his fingers idly scratching his chin, as he contemplated the lady’s words, a thoughtful hum escaping his closed lips.

"Respect, much like all significant aspects of life, often demands to be earned. And on occasion, the road to earning it necessitates relying on the support of others, wouldn’t you concur? I, personally, view everything through the lens of an investment. Investing, you see, involves nurturing both individuals and endeavors, fostering their growth in value over time."

Rosalie raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she absorbed the man’s response, her restless thoughts processing his words.

’What does he imply by that? Am I, too, one of his investments?’

Theodore’s smile persisted, clearly amused by Rosalie’s perplexed countenance. He contemplated whether to inject a touch more playfulness into his next statement. However, their intimate exchange was abruptly disrupted as another voice intruded upon the tranquility of the terrace from its entrance.

"Forgive my intrusion, My Lady."

Felix extended an apologetic nod to both of them before continuing,

"I came here to inform you that Her Highness Princess Angelica is poised to make her entrance. It’s time for you to return inside and join her, as there are numerous individuals eager to discuss the foundation with you."

The duchess cast a somewhat remorseful glance toward Lord Xarden, but he responded with an empathetic nod, indicating that she should follow Lord Howyer and attend to her vital duties.

"Thank you, Lord Xarden. I hope we will have an opportunity to converse again before this evening’s festivities conclude."

"I share that hope, Your Grace."

As the lady briskly departed from the terrace, her absence cast an eerie silence in her wake. Theodore reclined in his chair, the ambiance now laced with a sense of solitude. Deliberately, he reached for the partially filled champagne glass that Rosalie had left behind. Holding it up to the warm, amber radiance of the magic lamp, his narrowed gaze fixed upon the faint pink lipstick stain adorning the delicate rim of the glass. He traced it gingerly with his left thumb, his lips curving into a somewhat enigmatic grin.

"Indeed, Lady Rosalie... my investment in you shall yield its returns in due time. You are destined to become the crowning jewel in my ever-growing collection."