Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 29
Not as a wife, but as a village woman who admires you
Days had passed since Izar had brought the shepherdess home and left her to her own devices. Izar had been busying himself with the affairs of his estate, trying his best to pay no mind to her.
However, his stepmother couldn’t help but fail in ignoring the shepherdess.
“We’ve decided to host a tea party, Izar.”
Izar sent a cold glance towards his triumphantly speaking stepmother before withdrawing it. A flicker of irritation crossed his face, and he could guess what her plan entailed.
With the need to prepare for monster hunting immediately upon his return, was it really necessary to go to such lengths?
“I told you to just leave her be.”
What he wanted was for the shepherdess to exist as if she were dead.
He disliked the idea of people stirring up unnecessary talk about her, and he hated the thought of her leaving any memorable mark even more.
He also hoped that the shepherdess wouldn’t develop some unnecessary sense of duty, thinking, ‘I am the Duchess now.’
“There’s no need to unnecessarily introduce her to the nobles, since I’ll be sending her away on my own.”
“Don’t worry, Izar. We’re only inviting ten people.”
Yet, Electra continued to persuade him gently with a smile. Certainly, ten was a small number, but…
‘It has to be composed of the most important noble families.’
That way, if Electra gave them a hint, they’d quickly understand and teach the lowly girl a lesson.
Electra beamed a supremely kind smile, making a fuss.
“If she only asks, I’ll be right there to help her, so there won’t be any problems.”
“…”
“This is a tradition, Izar. A tradition that our family has upheld for nearly 300 years since settling on this land.”
At that, Izar motioned with his hand, signaling ‘I understand, so leave it be.’
Yes, he wanted to believe that if his stepmother had a plan, she would handle it smoothly.
Electra was still smiling warmly as she left Izar’s office.
But the moment she stepped out, she turned to Merope, the chief handmaid, her naturally chilling gaze returning.
“But Merope, what exactly is that girl doing?”
“Um… she’s preparing for the tea party…”
Merope sounded somewhat deflated compared to when she first suggested the idea.
The chief handmaid had thought the bastard shepherdess would surely come crying to them.
But the bastard didn’t cry, and she acted as if she knew exactly what to do.
<Chief Handmaid Merope. The event will be organized like this, and these are the invitations to be sent to the ladies you mentioned.>
<Uh, um…>
<Is there a problem?>
There was simply nothing to nitpick.
In the end, out of desperation, Merope could only make a feeble complaint about the handwriting. Electra was incredulous upon hearing this.
“She didn’t even consult you?”
“Yes…”
“How is that possible!”
Even if Antares had given her a crash course, it was natural for her to fumble a bit. After all, coming from a different family, there would naturally be differences in how things are handled.
She had planned to seize upon every little mistake to make her cry, but this damned girl hadn’t even come to her from the start!
‘It would be beneath my dignity to go see her about such matters.’
Because she herself had commanded it.
Noticing her superior’s displeasure, Mrs. Merope hurriedly offered an excuse.
“Still, Elder Madam, as you instructed, the grapefruit dessert was indeed included in the meal.”
The kitchen staff naturally followed the Elder Madam’s orders to the letter. The menu for the tea party, checked by Merope, was set to bring about their delightful little scheme.
Eventually, Electra’s mood lightened, and she let out a short laugh.
“I do feel a bit sorry for Madam Merriott.”
Well, a skin rash isn’t deadly, so what’s the big deal?
***
As the day of their departure for the subjugation campaign arrived, Izar gathered his knights early in the morning. They usually departed early, but this time he deliberately set an even earlier time. Leaving at dawn seemed like it would unnecessarily wake someone up.
‘It’s only because I don’t want to run into that shepherdess.’
He wanted to avoid the discomfort of feeling like a criminal when those large eyes stared at him.
Probably, this was the first time in his life he had actively avoided someone.
However, as he approached the knights gathered in the courtyard, a thin voice called out from behind him.
“…Your Grace!”
“Haa.”
Why do the things one tries to avoid always happen?
Turning around, he saw the shepherdess rushing towards him, clutching the hem of her dress. Her brown, flaxen hair flew behind her, not even properly tied up.
