Chapter 317
“You can look forward to it.”
Look forward to what, exactly? Was he telling her to hope for peace between the North and the capital? Lost in a whirl of cryptic remarks, Sebelia felt only more confused. Outside, Eli’s voice called out to hurry him along.
“Your Grace, we’re running out of time!”
“I’ll be going, then. Enjoy your dinner, and have sweet dreams.”
Dehart left a kiss on her forehead and quickly departed. By the time Sebelia gathered her wits, she was already alone.
* * *
So what on earth was going on?
Sebelia couldn’t hide her discomfort as she stared at the Lyn Post laid out in front of her. The butler who’d brought the paper took one look at her expression and ran off.
“Night outings…”
An article at the bottom of the front page covered the mysterious recent whereabouts of her housemate. The title blared, The Duke’s Loyal Nightly Visits—What Are His True Intentions?
According to the article, he’d been spending his nights visiting other estates and meeting with young, marriageable noblewomen. There was even an interview with a father, hopeful that his daughter might form a good connection with the Duke.
“Hmmm…”
None of it made any sense. Sebelia read story after story, each one stranger than the last. Apparently, he’d wiped food from a young lady’s lips and cut her meat for her?
As Dehart Inverness’s ex-wife—and someone who’d married him the same day they met—Sebelia could instantly spot the fabrication. No one in their right mind would believe this nonsense. From start to finish, it was all rubbish.
Still, that didn’t mean she could shake off her annoyance.
He said he was busy with work, so how did this nonsense end up in the papers?
With a slight frown, she called out.
“What about the other papers? Are they saying anything different?”
A few maids quickly fetched every newspaper they could find—dailies, weeklies, even short children’s bulletins. But no matter how thoroughly she searched, none had a word about Dehart. She truly didn’t know what to make of it.
If only she could grab hold of Dehart or Eli and demand an explanation—but both men had left for the North a few days ago to meet Byron.
“Ah.”
Realization dawned.
So that’s why there were reporters hanging around the estate.
No wonder the guards had been looking so perplexed that morning. Sighing, Sebelia shoved the paper away; her headache was too much to keep reading.
As she leaned back on the sofa to rest, she heard a rustling nearby. She opened her eyes to find someone standing beside her.
“That headline is something else, isn’t it?”
“When did you get here, Denisa?”
“Just now. But isn’t this article so blatantly obvious? Who else in the capital could ‘the anonymous Duke’ possibly be but Lord Dehart? And yet, after all the time those Lyn Post reporters spent running wild with Silas, they’re acting as if they’re above it all.”
Denisa poked at the illustration under the title—a blurred profile, the features left indistinct.
Everyone could see at a glance who the article was about.
“At least now they’re being subtle. Back in the old days, they would have printed his name in bold right from the start.”
After the failed coup by the queen and Marquis Wheddon, the Lyn Post had taken a heavy hit. Thanks to Prince Shateian’s leniency, they avoided being shut down, but most of the upper management had been replaced.
“That’s what’s so annoying, Miss. If you’re going to be careful, then be really careful. But this half-baked pretending-to-be-subtle attitude is just irritating.”
“Hm…”
Looking at the blurred features, Sebelia trailed off. Unlike before, Lyn Post now leaned toward the royal family, which meant Prince Shateian probably had a hand in it.
And the article’s timing was odd.
Their relationship isn’t bad, and they’re even discussing joint national projects. So why would the Post run this kind of story the moment Dehart leaves the capital?
First, she’d have to find out if this was the Post acting alone.
Interrogating Dehart comes after that.
Waiting for his return from the North, Sebelia penned a letter to Shateian—casually mentioning the Lyn Post article and inquiring whether any of their ongoing projects had run into trouble.
“How long will it take for him to reply…?”
The Crown Prince was busy. She figured she’d wait at least a week before expecting an answer. In the meantime, she tried to push all thoughts of the matter from her mind. Otherwise, she’d be tempted to run straight to the palace herself.
As luck would have it, Rosalyn came to her for help.
“Sebelia, I need to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“I’d really like to find that bookmark before I leave for the North. If I go without returning it, it’ll just weigh on my mind.”
Sebelia, grateful for the distraction, happily agreed.
And so, under the warm midday sun, the two women found themselves digging around beneath the garden wall.
“Nothing here, either.”
Rosalyn said with a fierce tone while wielding a trowel.
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