Lady Felice’s Secret Class - Chapter 103

Felice hadn’t even opened her mouth yet when the ladies and young noblewomen immediately began discussing her ring, almost as if they’d been waiting for the chance.

“Wow. I tried to get one myself, but even through my husband, it was impossible. No matter how high the offer, they wouldn’t sell it.”

“A Weather ring, oh my! But… wait, is this what a Weather ring is supposed to look like?”

“Could we have a closer look?”

Felice blinked at the sudden request, her eyes darting between the eager faces crowding in front of her.

“Ah, it was a gift… I’m sorry. It’s very precious to me, so I want to be careful with it.”

She hesitated for a moment, but politely refused their somewhat rude request.

“Oh? Even if it’s a gift, you could still show us, can’t you? Is there something wrong with the ring?”

“Are you worried we might damage it? I’d be so disappointed if that’s what you thought of us.”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all—”

“This is getting a little noisy.”

Marchioness Depende, who had been watching the scene unfold, frowned. The ladies who had gathered quickly glanced at her and fell silent.

“Let’s keep the conversation appropriate for the event.”

Marchioness Depende said firmly, neatly resolving the situation. The ladies glanced back at Felice, then slowly dispersed.

“I suppose we got a bit too excited.”

Mrs. Whitcombe said with a sheepish smile.

Felice felt unfairly singled out, as if she were being accused of something, but since the Marchioness had spoken, she couldn’t protest further.

“It’s alright. I must have been clumsy with my words and gave the wrong impression. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

As soon as Felice finished speaking, the ladies smoothly switched the topic back to art and clustered around Marchioness Depende instead. She couldn’t help but feel there was now an invisible line drawn around her.

Felice thought again about mentioning Annie to the Marchioness, but she found herself hesitating, unable to find the right moment.

Absent-mindedly, she looked down at the ring, thinking of Mrs. Pritchard’s warm smile as she’d pressed it into her hand. Images of the household staff, who had supported her from the very start that morning, flashed through her mind.

Guilt pressed down heavily on her heart.

She’d made it this far thanks to their love, from head to toe. But instead of supporting the prince, she’d only worried him, and among these ladies, all she’d managed to do was stir up misunderstandings.

“Lady Felice.”

Duchess Vanessa got up gracefully from her seat a short distance away. With her hair neatly styled up, she approached Felice with a gentle, sincere smile.

“You really… resemble Admiral Paul Mellon. If he could see you now, I’m sure he’d be so proud.”

“…Pardon?”

Felice flinched at the sudden compliment. The other ladies nearby seemed surprised as well.

“Did you receive that ring from the maid of the house where you worked?”

“Ah… Yes, it was a gift from the head maid.”

“I thought as much.”

A deep, satisfied smile appeared on the Duchess’s face.

“When Her Majesty was still a princess, she would give out such rings as gifts to her favorite maids when they left royal service. It’s a truly valuable item and shouldn’t be handed around carelessly.”

The Duchess’s words sent the other ladies retreating behind their fans, faces red with embarrassment.

“The one who gave you that ring must be very pleased to see how carefully Lady Felice treated it.”

“Ah…”

Felice looked down at her ring.

* * *

After the patron event, on the way out, Marchioness Depende paused by the door. Beside her, Duchess Vanessa had her ever-soft smile.

“So you changed your mind, after all?”

The Marchioness’s dark brows lifted.

“I merely stated the fact.”

“What is it about Felice that won you over?”

“Oh my, now the Marchioness is making me nervous to tell about Felice.”

Duchess Vanessa laughed lightly, then replied simply.

“But you already know the answer, Marchioness.”

It was just like her.

“…Duchess Vanessa’s taste in men was always good.”

“Haha.”

Duchess Vanessa only chuckled at that, and Marchioness Depende turned to leave. But then, she stopped, glanced over her shoulder, and muttered half to herself.

“Well, I suppose I really am getting old… my judgment’s starting to slip.”

And with that, she shot the Duchess a wry look.