In the Doghouse - Chapter 87
It was Richard who broke the tension, having rushed over upon hearing that the duchess had arrived.
“Aunt, it’s been a while. You haven’t changed at all.”
Richard’s voice was as cold as the Duchess’s, with a slight tinge of sarcasm. Come to think of it, he spoke the same way to the Emperor. Was this how members of the imperial family usually treated each other?
Courtney, once again clueless, simply tilted her head in confusion.
The Duchess let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly for everyone to hear, and spoke.
“Your Highness is the one who hasn’t changed a bit. I wondered why His Majesty called for this old woman, but it seems the Crown Prince still hasn’t grown up and is short on help.”
Richard clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles bulging in frustration. Courtney quickly revised her earlier thought: this wasn’t just Imperial etiquette—this was outright hostility. Eager to diffuse the situation, she stepped in between the two.
“Her Grace the Duchess must have had a long journey before this. Now that you’ve greeted us, why don’t head back to your work, Your Highness?”
Richard pouted in displeasure. He understood her intention to calm things down, but it was clear she was dismissing him.
The Duchess gave a loud, amused snort. After the death of the Empress, who had been like a sister to her, she had stayed in the palace for quite some time, caring for the young Crown Prince. No one knew Richard’s arrogance better than she did. Yet now, despite his obvious frustration, he didn’t dare say a word to his wife.
Richard’s face turned red with anger, but as expected, he didn’t let his temper flare in front of Courtney.
“Fine. I’ll call it a day and join you for dinner later.”
“Hmm… we’ll see.”
Courtney hesitated to promise. She might end up dining late due to her lessons, or the Duchess could even suggest they dine together.
Even so, Richard couldn’t express his annoyance and left the room, casting a displeased glance at the Duchess as he closed the door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, the Duchess spoke, her tone firm but not entirely cold.
“I may not be much, but I will do my best to assist you, Your Highness.”
“Yes. Thank you,” Courtney responded, nodding anxiously. She would soon realize just how intense that ‘best effort’ would be.
Richard’s simple wish to have dinner together that evening was, of course, not fulfilled.
Duchess Herbert was unlike any of the noblewomen Courtney had met before. She’d had a hard enough time adjusting to palace life, coming from a household with little proper guidance, but even objectively speaking, the Duchess was an extraordinary person.
Bold and without hesitation, the Duchess swiftly took control of the palace. Not only Courtney but even her maids were kept on their toes, with no time for idle moments. Her reputation for being tough must have been well-known, as the longer-serving palace staff did their best to avoid her.
Of course, Courtney couldn’t escape her watchful eyes, as she was the one who needed the Duchess’s help the most. The Duchess spent most of her days in Courtney’s office, guiding her through the mountain of paperwork that the Emperor’s aides had piled up.
“The Harvest Festival lasts three days, with festivals held in each town and village.”
“Yes,” Courtney replied confidently. Her experience managing the Devon household’s accounts had given her some basic knowledge.
Even the smallest estates held Harvest Festivals. Local lords would report the scale of their festivities to the Imperial Court before and after the events, in order to receive tax reductions to cover the festival costs.
That was all Courtney knew, but the Duchess, now somewhat reassured, continued.
“However, some lords report that they are holding festivals while giving nothing to the people of their lands.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. These records document estates that were caught skimming off the top. Use them as a reference to be cautious.”
Courtney examined the papers with a serious expression, setting them aside for future reference. While tax evasion was an issue, her heart ached more for the common folk who worked hard all year and couldn’t even enjoy a proper celebration.
The Duchess watched the Crown Princess with a curious look. It was rare to see someone react with such empathy and common sense—especially considering this was the woman someone like Richard had fallen for.
She had expected Courtney to be as spoiled and reckless as Richard, but now she began to understand why the Emperor had been so pleased with his daughter-in-law despite her lower status.
Pleased with what she saw, Duchess Herbert became even more zealous in her guidance, which meant Courtney had to endure more of her relentless teaching. At times, Courtney worried the Duchess secretly disapproved of her and was pushing her so hard because of it.
Moreover, the Duchess didn’t give clear answers—she only offered advice and left the decisions to Courtney.
“We have enough staff, but it’s important to allocate them properly. No one can imagine the wine running out at an imperial ball.”
Statements like this left the hard decisions to Courtney—how many staff to place in the ballroom and how many in the kitchen? Courtney spent hours poring over old records and consulting with the experienced head butler and chief maid.
The Duchess also had a way of speaking that heightened the pressure on everything.
“When decorating the banquet hall, it mustn’t be too extravagant, nor too simple. If it’s overly adorned, it’ll appear garish and vulgar, but if it looks too frugal, it could cast doubt on the imperial treasury or even the authority of the crown.”
Was she exaggerating? Courtney couldn’t ignore it, though. She agonized over every choice, from the decorations to the curtains and tablecloths, constantly worrying whether they were ‘just right’. She even had nightmares about whether to use enchanted instruments or traditional ones for entertainment.
The Harvest Festival and Duchess Herbert were all that occupied Courtney’s mind as she darted around the palace, completely consumed by her tasks. Then, one day, she ran into Richard in the hallway.
