Lady Felice’s Secret Class - Chapter 115

Felice went up to the third floor.

She wanted to see her grandfather’s sword.

Right now, that was the only thing she could lean on. Even though she knew looking at it would just make her feel guiltier, she couldn’t suppress the urge.

Taking a deep breath, Felice carefully opened the door.

It was her first time visiting since that day. Just in case, she’d asked Claude if it was alright for her to go see the sword, and he’d readily agreed—telling her she was welcome to see it whenever she wished.

When she opened the door, thick black curtains blocked out all the sunlight. Holding a gas lamp, Felice stepped up to the white cloth that covered the sword.

She pulled down the cloth, and her grandfather’s sword appeared before her.

“Hhhk…”

The moment she saw it, Felice burst into tears.

“G-Grandfather…”

Just like when she was a child, running to cry in her grandfather’s arms whenever she was upset, she leaned over the glass case covering the sword and sobbed uncontrollably.

Her tears slid down the cold glass and dripped to the floor.

There was nothing she could do to hold herself together.

“I’m sorry… hhk, I’m so sorry…”

The proud look her grandfather used to give her flashed through her mind. He would always ruffle her hair and tell her it was okay, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.

If only she’d been a little smarter, would all of this have happened? If she’d been less greedy about reclaiming the sword, would it have been alright?

“I… hhk… I’m so, so sorry…”

Just then, the cloth covering something above the sword came loose and floated gently down, landing softly over Felice’s head as if to comfort her.

Now draped in the cloth, Felice wept so hard she could barely breathe.

* * *

At the table, the butler sat, unsure what to do in times like these. He glanced at Mrs. Pritchard for help, but she only shook her head helplessly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

Felice arrived with the flower tea.

She was beaming, but her eyes were swollen, and the tips of her eyes and nose were still flushed red.

Everyone at the table felt as if they were sitting on pins and needles, weighed down by guilt.

“I wanted to bake you all cookies myself, but I just couldn’t manage it.”

Felice said, carefully arranging the cookies Tom had bought onto a plate. Lisa quietly stood up from her seat, unable to watch any longer.

“Miss, would you like some help with the setting?”

“No, thank you! I want to serve everyone myself.”

Lisa meekly replied, “Okay,” and sat back down.

Of course, for a noble lady to personally make tea and serve it to her staff was a truly kind gesture, but everyone at the table was thinking the same thing:

‘When is the master going to show up?!’

They all silently hoped the master would arrive soon and comfort Felice.

“Mrs. Pritchard, when I went to the patron’s gathering, Duchess Vanessa immediately recognized the ring.”

Felice handed her a cup of tea with a bright smile.

“Oh, did she? That makes sense—Duchess Vanessa has served Her Majesty since she was a princess.”

Mrs. Pritchard replied, thanking Felice for the tea.

“They all said my dress was so pretty. Thank you, Butler, truly. I wish Rose could have come too, but her schedule is always so busy. And everyone complimented the hat, and said the shoes matched perfectly, and they loved Annie’s necklace too! Anyway… Flower tea is all I can offer, but thank you all so much.”

Felice went around the table, handing each servant a cup of tea and saying a few words. Everyone thanked her for the gesture, but they also swallowed hard.

Not just the butler and head maid, but most of the staff had once worked at court—they all knew how rare it was for nobles to give such genuine praise.