In the Doghouse - Chapter 7
By the next morning, Courtney’s twisted ankle had swollen to twice its size. Yet, she couldn’t afford to rest. She borrowed Martha’s comfortable shoes in place of her own and made her way to Marquis Mallon’s residence.
Although she was able to pass through the gates easily by giving the Devon name, the elderly butler blocked her at the entrance.
“The Marquis is currently away.”
“But you didn’t say that earlier.”
When the butler had inquired about her appointment and which family she belonged to, he hadn’t mentioned that the Marquis wasn’t home. The moment she mentioned the name ‘Devon’, it was as if the Marquis had vanished into thin air.
“In any case, he is not available to see you right now.”
“Then I’ll wait here.”
“You’ll need to schedule an appointment and return at a later time, Lady Devon.”
The butler maintained only the bare minimum of courtesy and didn’t offer a hint of further consideration. With a stern expression, he stood immovably, blocking the entrance. Passing servants glanced at Courtney as if she were a caged animal, a noblewoman in name but not in appearance.
“Please have a safe trip back.”
In the end, Courtney had no choice but to turn around and leave the estate through the very gate she had entered. The butler, who walked her out, made a cold remark to the gatekeeper as if she were some unwanted visitor.
“Make sure to check identification more thoroughly next time.”
He spoke as if they had let in a common solicitor, but Courtney knew there was no point in protesting. At best, she would be dismissed with comments about the insecurities of a fallen noble. As always, she pretended not to hear and turned away.
The pain in her ankle had worsened from all the walking, even more so than when she had left home. Courtney looked around for a passing carriage but realized that this part of the city, lined by the expansive walls of the Marquis’s estate, was not the kind of place where common cab drivers waited for passengers.
With no other option, she began to limp home. She had hoped to save money by walking until she reached a busier area, but her ankle was making that difficult. Before she had even covered half the distance, her body was drenched in cold sweat.
“Ugh…”
Courtney collapsed on the side of the deserted road, cradling her aching ankle. The pain, coupled with the humiliation and anger bubbling inside her, was overwhelming.
She had known that the Marquis wouldn’t likely meet with her—a woman who was neither the Count nor his heir. But if she did nothing, a repeat of last night’s ordeal could happen again tonight.
She hadn’t come to beg for the debt to be forgiven. The loan contract didn’t even have any collateral listed—she only wanted to request a delay in repayment.
It wasn’t her who had borrowed the money, and she wasn’t refusing to pay it back. Yet the injustice of her treatment and the fact that she had become accustomed to it enraged her.
With great effort, Courtney stood back up. As she limped along, she muttered to herself in a pitiful voice.
“I should’ve just killed that miscreant…”
Frederick Devon—after being beaten half to death by both the men and his sister last night—was surely still groaning in his bed.
Courtney, in her clear-headedness, knew exactly who was to blame for this entire situation. It wasn’t the man who had knocked her over—it was her brother. The only regret was that she hadn’t finished him off. Of course, even if she had, the act wouldn’t have solved House Devon’s problems.
When she finally arrived back home, Courtney found herself facing an unfamiliar scene.
“Courtney—!”
As soon as the gate opened, Hendrick came rushing out, breathless. He was always lacking in dignity, but today it was worse than usual. His clothes were disheveled, and sweat dripped from his face, making him look in worse shape than Courtney, who had hobbled back on her injured ankle.
“What’s going on? Did Freddy cause more trouble?”
“No, not that… But first, calm down, Courtney.”
“You should calm down.”
Still stung by what had happened at the Marquis’s estate, Courtney’s words came out sharp. She just wanted to get inside and tend to her throbbing ankle. But the Count seemed completely oblivious to her physical condition, stalling for what felt like ages.
“Listen, don’t be shocked.”
“Father, I’m tired.”
Courtney brushed past him and made her way across what used to be the garden, heading toward the front door. Hendrick hurried after her, fumbling with his words.
“His… His Majesty the Emperor has sent a messenger.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
Before Courtney could even reach for the door handle, it burst open, and this time, Patricia rushed out, practically shoving her face into her daughter’s.
“Courtney! Oh, my dear!”
“What’s wrong with everyone today?”
Neither her father nor her mother usually behaved with such a lack of composure, despite their general disconnection from reality. Shaking her head, Courtney stepped inside.
As she limped toward the stairs, the Count’s urgency grew, and he finally blurted out the news.
“His Majesty the Emperor has sent word! He has expressed his intent to make you the Crown Prince’s consort!”
The empty hall echoed with Hendrick’s words. Patricia, as if praying to the heavens, looked upward and muttered thanks to every deity she could think of.
