The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 127: It’s Finally Happening

Chapter 127: It’s Finally Happening

Angelica reclined into the plush, inviting chair that cradled her form, nestled within the sanctuary of a towering wooden gazebo. Her eyelids gently closed, inviting the balmy embrace and newfound vitality carried by the tender breeze of the early spring morning. A considerable span of time had elapsed since her last foray into the realm of tranquil solitary mornings, yet the dividends of such serene seclusion unfailingly administered a balm to her soul.

The princess’s guardian knight and attending maid stood quietly right behind her, awaiting her orders and requests, not daring to interrupt the peaceful ambiance of the morning gardens.

The tranquil air was suddenly stirred by the distant cadence of approaching footsteps. In a matter of fleeting moments, both the knight and the maid tensed up and simultaneously exclaimed,

"Good morning, Your Majesty."

Angelica promptly straightened her posture, her graceful body poised for a courteous ascent in preparation to greet her father. However, the Emperor, in a gesture of paternal affection, urged her to remain seated, securing his place in the chair adjacent to her. A quizzical expression played upon the princess’s features as she regarded him, her voice adopting a tone of respectful humility,

"Good morning, father. I must admit, news of your impending visit had not reached my ears."

The Emperor’s response, however, bore an air of disdain.

"Must a father schedule appointments to visit his beloved daughter, dear Angelica?"

The girl held her silence, her sparkling azure eyes momentarily revealing a glimmer of hope and restrained joy. Luther’s smile deepened as he proceeded with a well-prepared line of conversation,

"And how have you been faring, my dear daughter?"

"Well, Father, my well-being remains unwavering, impervious even to the changing seasons. I have been engrossed in preparations for my upcoming birthday celebration, leaving little room for any other distractions."

"Very good. Keeping oneself occupied is paramount; it is idleness that can corrode one’s spirit."

The dry and somewhat forced conversation was beginning to weigh on Angelica’s shoulders, casting an unwelcome pall over the atmosphere. Despite her burgeoning discomfort, she concealed her growing distress, determined to play her part in the charade. Finally, when the Emperor had seemingly exhausted the reserves of courtesy mandated by the rigid protocols of etiquette, he cleared his throat with an air of awkwardness, and with that, he reached the crux of the matter.

"Your recent political endeavors, particularly in tandem with Grand Duchess Rosalie, have garnered the attention of our neighbors, the Empire of Izaar, and more specifically, their Imperial family,"

He said that with a gravity that further intensified Angelica’s unease.

In truth, she would have preferred her father’s pretentious facades over this solemn and detached tone. For when her father ventured into the realm of politics in their conversations, it invariably signaled one thing - yet another disheartening reminder of her perceived inadequacy.

Observing his daughter’s unmistakable unease, the Emperor summoned forth yet another feigned, placid smile and continued, his voice now imbued with a gentler cadence,

"As you are well aware, my dear, the Imperial family of Izaar is rather extensive, a vast tapestry woven from the Emperor’s numerous wives. When news of your commendable achievements reached his ears, the Emperor was moved to dispatch a diplomatic envoy. Curiously, it appears that he holds a deep appreciation for philanthropic endeavors."

Pausing momentarily, the Emperor keenly gauged his daughter’s response, hoping for a more substantial reaction. However, Angelica’s demeanor remained remarkably composed and imperturbable. With a discreet throat-clearing, he ventured forth again,

"The delegation dispatched by Izaar is under the stewardship of the Imperial twins, both of whom have expressed a keen interest in gaining insight into your work, Angelica. Therefore, I earnestly hope that you can demonstrate to them that your pursuits transcend the mere semblance of sainthood. Do you comprehend the import of my words, my dear?"

Angelica was acutely aware of the Emperor’s underlying message. Rostan Izaar, one of the Empire of Izaar’s younger scions, had once been among the prospective suitors for her hand in marriage, a time before the revelation of her condition. Yet, due to the prince’s demanding academic pursuits, their paths had never crossed, consigning him, too, to the realm of unrealized aspirations within the Emperor’s ambitious designs. Now, with Rostan’s imminent visit to Rische, His Majesty clung to a final glimmer of hope that Angelica could once again serve his interests.

With that understanding etched in her thoughts, Angelica raised her head, her response delivered in a subdued, vulnerable tone,

"Yes, Your Majesty. I understand."

The Emperor nodded in silence, slowly standing from his seat, and departed without uttering a solitary word. The princess’s gaze lingered on his imposing figure until it disappeared beyond the palace walls, leaving behind nothing but an oppressive silence that enveloped her.

Her face bore the weight of sorrow, etching lines of despair across her pallid features. She averted her gaze, a fierce battle raging within to contain the burgeoning tide of emotions that threatened to surge forth from her quivering chest.

’No matter my efforts, it seems there is no appeasing you after all, Father.’

***

Amidst Princess Angelica’s fervent preparations for her impending grand Birthday celebration, the formidable responsibility of overseeing their charitable foundation fell squarely upon Rosalie’s shoulders.

With the arrival of spring, a surge in workload ensued. The long-anticipated renovation plans were now poised for execution, necessitating the Grand Duchess’s relentless voyages across various locales. Her duties encompassed assessing the current conditions of orphanages and monitoring the progress of their refurbishments.

Furthermore, Rosalie found herself compelled to ensure the efficient administration of the slums, as the inhabitants awaited relocation to temporary abodes while their usual residences underwent reconstruction.

A substantial surplus of investment funds, generously contributed by the nobility, empowered the charity to extend its benevolence far beyond the Capital’s borders. In unanimous accord, Angelica and Rosalie resolved to harness these resources to aid those in need throughout the entire Empire. Thus, Rosalie diligently undertook the task of meticulously registering every orphanage, shelter, and impoverished district, spanning the breadth of Rische. She dispatched the charity’s dedicated workforce to cities, towns, and villages far and wide, with the mission to assess the unique needs of each locale.

Engulfed in her demanding responsibilities, Rosalie remained oblivious to the passage of time, unearthing herself from her labor only when the day had surreptitiously surrendered to evening. She turned in her chair in Damien’s study, peering out of the dimming windowpane. Beyond, the streetlights flickered to life, seemingly ignited by the caress of invisible magic.

’Time still flies, with this much work on my hands, the days go by in an instant... Perhaps, it is a blessing in disguise.’

A soft, unanticipated knock reverberated through the tranquil chamber, causing the duchess to startle.

"Please, enter."

The door swung open with a familiar, muted creak, ushering in Aurora, her face marked by a touch of bewilderment.

"My apologies for the interruption, Lady Rosalie. There is a visitor in the drawing room seeking an audience with you."

Lady Ashter arched her brows, exchanging a puzzled glance with her maid.

"A guest at this hour? I do not recall any prior arrangements for today... Who might it be?"

"It is Baron Tobias Aelon, My Lady."

The mention of that name sent a bizarre shiver down Rosalie’s spine.

’Baron Tobias Aelon? Evangelina’s father?’

An unexpected torrent of complex and disconcerting emotions surged through her, constricting her muscles and casting a shadow over her otherwise porcelain complexion. Observing her lady’s distress, Aurora approached the imposing wooden desk that separated them, her voice laced with concern,

"Lady Rosalie? Should we dismiss Baron Aelon?"

Rosalie promptly shook her head, finally offering a response,

"No, there’s no need. Kindly inform him that I will be available to meet with him shortly."

. . .

The duchess gracefully swung open the towering white doors to the reception room and strode inside, her face adorned with a warm, embracing smile. Her gaze alighted upon the seated figure of Baron Aelon, prompting him to rise from his seat, his own expression betraying a hint of unease. In a slightly apprehensive tone, he offered his greetings.

"Good evening, Your Grace! I must beg your pardon for my unannounced visit, and I am genuinely appreciative of your gracious reception."

"It is perfectly acceptable, My Lord. Now, what brings you to me this evening?"

The man waited patiently, biding his time until Rosalie had comfortably settled onto the plush velvet couch positioned before him. A palpable hesitation held him in its grip, his narrow eyes engaged in a frantic dance across the expanse of his own knees. Finally, with a pronounced exhale that seemed to carry the weight of his uncertainty, he lifted his gaze once more, fixing his anxious eyes on the duchess’s face.

"Your Grace... What I’m about to request may come across as sudden and perhaps even unreasonable, but I beseech you to hear this humble plea from an old man."

Lady Ashter discreetly bit her lower lip, her response a subtle nod of encouragement.

"Please, go on."

"Given your newfound involvement in overseeing the Empire’s orphanages, I was hoping you might assist me in locating someone very important to me..."

Rosalie’s heart quickened its pace once more. She was fully aware of the individual he sought, and she had believed herself ready for this moment. Yet, as Lord Aelon grappled with his words, she found herself momentarily adrift.

In spite of her own steadfast resolve, she realized she was far from prepared.

"This individual... this young lady, you see, cannot remain within an orphanage any longer. She has blossomed into adulthood. However, I would greatly appreciate it if you could uncover any information about her, however scant."

A subtle lump formed in Rosalie’s throat, but she gathered her composure and inquired further,

"May I ask for the name of this young lady, My Lord?"

"My... My lost daughter, Evangelina, Your Grace. Although, it’s possible she no longer bears that name."

As Lord Aelon uttered those words, the duchess’s heartbeat reverberated in her ears, its thunderous cadence overwhelming all other sounds. Chilling tremors coursed through her, penetrating to the depths of her soul. Her fevered mind ceased its frantic whirl, leaving behind a singular, resounding thought,

’So, this is it... It’s finally happening.’