So I Was the Persecuted Grand Duchess Destined to Die? Chapter 25

Chapter 25

— — —

Maybe Betty’s comparison was just too powerful.

My plan—however flimsy—to greet my “maid” like a normal person died a brutal death on the spot. I just stared blankly at the woman storming in.

She was dressed to the nines again—so flashy it almost hurt to look at—and her face cycled between red and pale like she was about to combust.

And, honestly?

She really did look exactly like a peacock.

Pretty as always. But why is she so furious?

I was still trying to guess when she marched right up to me and shrieked—

“You thought I wouldn’t find out you cheated in secret? I’m the one who belongs beside the Grand Duke! You vulgar little tramp!”

A rough hand shot toward me.

“Me?!” I choked. “Excuse—what?!”

Wait—was she mad because of me?

I hadn’t done anything!

And then, like a cursed flashback, the Grand Duke’s words from earlier stabbed through my head.

“Don’t underestimate the Grand Ducal Castle’s security. I’ve already received reports that he was seen with you.”
“Someone even reported he was your hidden lover…”

Don’t tell me…

Was my “watcher” this peacock woman?

But she’d never even been to the cabin—

No. Stop. This was not the time for theories.

Because at that very moment, she was about to activate the ultimate K-drama cliché:

Hair-grab.

Right as her hand was about to land—

“Enough.”

In an instant, a solid, broad back filled my entire view—warm, immovable, and very much made of muscle.

It was the Grand Duke.

I couldn’t see his face from behind the human wall he’d become, but I could hear her voice clearly as it cracked, trembling with anger.

“Why do you always take her side, Xenos?!”

“Is there a problem with me taking my wife’s side?”

“Hah! ‘My wife’?”

“Yes.”

“……”

Behind his back, I was fighting for my life not to gag.

Ugh. “My wife”… I’m going to throw up.

So he is the type who cares about appearances. Like at the festival.

He really would sell his soul to look like a “loving couple.”

And yet—

Despite my inner sarcasm, my face and ears kept heating up for absolutely no reason.

My heart started pounding too.

Why is he saying things that sound like they’ll get misunderstood?!

No wonder the peacock is losing her mind!

I quietly decided this was, at least, 73% his fault and watched from my safe spot.

The argument kept escalating.

Dragon versus tiger.
No—more like tiger versus tiger, with me as the collateral furniture.

They were going at it so fiercely they’d forgotten I existed.

Which was perfect.

I started inching backward.

Then I slipped through the crack of the still-open door like a seasoned escape artist.

A few maids widened their eyes at me, but thankfully, that was it.

No one here could stop this fight.

And it definitely wasn’t going to be me.

Nope. Don’t know. Don’t care. I’m out.

In moments like this, the classics never fail:

When in doubt, run.

“THIS IS SO UNFAIR!”

Sniffling and sobbing, Katharina finally turned and bolted out of the library.

But the “winner,” Xenos, felt no triumph at all.

Which was only natural.

It had been a pointless argument—nothing gained, nothing resolved.

“Haa…”

He let out a deep sigh, exhaustion doubling across his face.

Then he turned toward the small woman who should have been trembling behind him.

“Renée Blanche, are you—”

…?

She wasn’t there.

His gaze darted left, then right.

One of the maids, fidgeting in panic, finally confessed.

“Y-Your Grace… the Grand Duchess… she left a while ago…”

“A while ago?”

“Yes… when you started raising your voice with Lady Katharina…”

“…Haa. For heaven’s sake.”

So she’d caused the chaos and then… simply run off?

What kind of woman is she?

Xenos had known she was unusual. Ridiculous, even.

But up close, Renée Blanche didn’t just bend common sense—she snapped it clean in half.

And the worst part?

Because of Katharina’s interruption, he still hadn’t asked what he came here to ask in the first place.

A dragon… really?

His eyes dropped to his scabbard.

Embossed in fine relief was the crest of House Celeste.

A great fortress—

and a dragon.

There was a reason for that.

Xenos picked up the very book Renée had been reading:

The Pact of Celeste and the Dragon.

To place Albert Rembrandt on the imperial throne, Lucas Celeste—the first Grand Duke—had formed a secret pact with a dragon.

With that overwhelming power, House Celeste backed the founding emperor fully and won the long, bloody struggle for dominance.

The pact’s details were passed down only to the head of the family.

But over time, its “glory” faded.

And Xenos… never learned what it truly was.

He’d been so exhausted by the curse—by the madness—that he’d almost been relieved the old legend had died out.

But—

If dragons truly exist…

Then even the recent reports of monsters could no longer be brushed aside.

Magic. Dragons. Beasts—concepts thought long-buried.

If they were resurfacing now…

Was that a blessing for Celeste?

Or a disaster?

And then, inevitably, his mind returned to one thing:

Renée’s red eyes.

In Rembrandt aristocratic society, there had long been a superstition—
that a bastard born with red eyes would bring ruin to their house.

Anyone who looked into Renée Blanche’s eyes could almost understand why such a rumor would be born.

She… ensnares people.

Like a flawless ruby. Like a freshly bloomed rose.

Once your gaze was caught, it was hard to let go.

Was that why Blanche had hidden her away so carefully?

But even so—

That was no reason to hate her.

Still…

She was so small. Too thin.

Pale enough to look carved from cold marble.

Yet Xenos had touched her before.

That night.

Her hand—no bigger than half of his—had been warmer than he’d expected.

Remembering it, he flinched without meaning to.

And his suspicion sharpened into something heavier.

What if there’s something in the pact… something I don’t know?
Something tied to her?

“Damn it.”

There was only one elder in his family who might know.

And she’d disappeared months ago, the moment the Blanche marriage was decided.

“What? A Blanche granddaughter-in-law?
I’d rather have dirt in my eyes than see that happen!”

His grandmother.

Diana Celeste.

“Haa…”

As an “option,” she felt less like a solution and more like throwing a match into a powder keg.

But what choice did he have?

Xenos strode back to his office, pressing his throbbing temple, and picked up his pen.

He needed to write a letter.

Not long after—

Far south, in the coastal region of Fielle, far removed from the northern cold of Celeste—

Caw—caw—

Only seagulls and waves filled the afternoon air.

On a hilltop villa overlooking the sea, in a garden sculpted entirely of expensive marble, an elderly woman hummed softly as she enjoyed her tea.

Her name was Diana Celeste.

“Mmm. This new tea is excellent.”

While Xenos’s mind churned in knots, the sole elder of House Celeste enjoyed a peace that felt like it belonged to another world entirely.

“Lady Diana.”

A neatly dressed butler approached, carrying a silver tray with letters and a paper knife.

Diana’s eyes narrowed over her teacup.

“A letter has arrived.”

“Put it wherever. If it’s old, burn it—who cares.”

Her voice was gentle. The words were not.

Only her wrinkled hands were busy, dropping sugar into the cup.

“But, Lady Diana…”

“What, let me guess. It’s Karl. Or that whiny Katharina. Am I right?”

“There are letters from Lady Katharina… and from Master Karl, yes, but…”

“Of course! I’m officially recuperating, aren’t I? I told everyone not to contact me. It’s terrible for my mental health.”

She stirred with growing irritation—

and then the butler’s next words made her hand freeze mid-circle.

“Th-This time… His Grace Xenos has written personally.”