"Francheska, calm yourself. Why would you talk to the Duke like that?" Another voice responded.
"Hmph!"
"Apologize!"
"I will never!"
With that, the cloth covering the entrance of the tent opened and a morose-looking Fraunces stord out. Of course, she took ti to glare at Rosalind before stalking away.
Seeing this, Rosalind wondered if coming here was the right thing to do. She turned around intending to leave.
"Since you are already there, co in. There is no point in trying to leave now." It was the Duke.
She blinked in embarrassnt before entering the tent.
Inside, there were two other people aside from the Duke. One was the man with red eyes and the other looked a little like General Lytton but a bit older and more mature.
The three of them were standing, surrounding a table with a map on it. Although, a part of her thought that they were standing because the stools inside the tent did not look sturdy enough to support their large fras.
To her left was another stool and a small table with fruits and beef jerky on it. Seeing the jerky, a strange hunger overpowered her senses. She heard her stomach growl.
"This is Rosie Rosie Rothley" the Duke stated. "The only mistress of the Duchy."
Rosalind could not help but stare at Lucas. What was he talking about? Earlier, he told her about the na. But now
"The wedding will happen the mont we reach the North. For now, I want you to send flowers to the Lux Family. Tell them, we will mourn Miss Rosalind Lux's death."
The two n stared at Rosalind before they nodded.
"Ah this must be the first ti that you have seen . My na is Markus Lytton. I am Francheska's father and General Lytton's older brother. It is a pleasure to et the Madam."
The man put his fist on his chest and bowed to her.
"It is a pleasure Count Lytton," she answered.
"Ah! It seems that you have done your research! Good! You will fit right in with the socialites of the North."
Rosalind gave the old man an awkward smile. To tell the truth, she had studied the nobility in the North when she was still at the mansion. However, she had also learned about them in her past life as well.
"This is Denys, a trusted subordinate," Count Lytton continued.
"It's nice to et you, Sir," Rosalind smiled and in response, Denys bowed just like the Count.
"I did not an to overhear anything," Rosalind said. "And I do not want to assu anything. I know it is bold of to ask this but may I know what event Da Fraunces is talking about?"
Right now, Rosalind was certain that the people in this tent knew about her real identity. Right? Well, it did not take too long for her to be proven wrong.
"You might not know this because you were sleeping but the Duke's previous wife Miss Rosalind Lux had been kidnapped and is now presud dead after the bandits took her. I know you just woke up and perhaps, you have no idea who Miss Rosalind is. I am certain that his Grace will explain everything," the Count inford her.
"I will take care of that," Duke Lucas said. "You may leave now. Do not forget to send flowers to that household."
"I will," Count Lytton bowed towards Lucas before he and Denys left the tent.
"I have decided to call you Rosie. I thought it was a beautiful na." The Duke handed her a full glass of wine. "Bitter as you like it."
She accepted the glass, but then put it back on the table where the map was located.
"Rosie Rothley?" she asked.
"Your new na." He lifted an eyebrow. "As my wife."
"I What about my face?"
"What about your face?"
"I look like Rosalind."
"No, you do not."
Again, he handed her the mirror. She frowned and wondered if he was trying to make her laugh but decided to remove the cloth that covered her face and stare at herself in the mirror.
"This " her hair was still white. Her eyes were still brown but sothing on her face had indeed changed. She touched her cheek and pinched it. Was she hallucinating? It seems that her face had beco smoother, poreless. Her nose seed to have beco taller, her lips a little plumper.
At the first glance, she would be mistaken for Rosalind but upon closer inspection, her face was not the sa. They look the sa, yet different. So different.
And that might be because of her white hair.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I have suspicions," he said.
"Tell ."
"You overused the Blessing and it made you stronger." He approached the table with the fruits, picked so jerky, and handed it to her. "For one, I am not a Blessed individual, I do not know anything about it. But as soone who has practiced swordsmanship for years, I have stumbled upon a phenonon like this in the past. It is called a breakthrough."
"A breakthrough? I've not read of anything like that in the past."
"Did you really think the Blessed families would share their secrets with the world?"
"That no " Those families will never do that.
"Then that's the answer to your question. Naturally, you would never hear of sothing like that."
"So, I have beco more powerful?"
He nodded.
"Are you still upset?" she asked.
"I was never upset." He gently gripped her chin and tilted her head, observing her face. For so reason, it made her aware of how pitiful she actually looked. She was wearing a loose white dress befitting a sick patient. Her uncombed hair was in a loose ponytail and she looked too pale and skinny.
"Rosalind is no more," The Duke stated. "She's dead."
"I can see that," Rosalind responded.
"From now on, you will be Rosie. Rosie Rothley, my wife. A simple daughter of a rchant that I saved on my way to the North." The Duke moved closer until he was just a foot away. Instead of taking a step back, she stayed rooted on the spot, bravely eting his blue eyes. "It is nice to et you, Rosie. I am Lucas." Letting go of her chin, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears.
She gulped and smiled. "It is a pleasure to et you, your Grace."
"Call husband," he said.
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