Lady Felice’s Secret Class - Chapter 89

Marchioness Depende’s gaze lingered on the guest list before drifting to the side. Next to it lay a letter from Claude, requesting her help regarding the list.

In a way, perhaps she’d seen this coming. When Claude had visited her to ask if she might dismiss the current tutor, she’d already had her suspicions.

“No, I suppose I really knew the day Nelleys brought it up…”

Her eyelids lowering slowly.

She’d nearly lost her composure the day Nelleys, desperate for advice after hearing about Duchess Vanessa, confided her troubles—especially when Felice’s name came up in the conversation.

It was from that moment she began pushing Claude, hastily arranging introductions between him and eligible young women. But, in the end, things turned out like this.

At first, he seemed resistant to the idea of letting Felice go. But as time passed, it became clear that he had let her into his heart.

“Did I simply brush it off too lightly, or… perhaps, deep down, I wanted things to turn out this way?”

The Marchioness murmured, setting the list aside.

Felice’s name now appeared alongside Claude’s on the guest list. It might have been an event for sponsors, but bringing Felice as his partner to such a high-society gathering was a statement Claude couldn’t be unaware of.

No doubt, with that silver tongue of his, he’d already charmed innocent Felice beyond reason.

“And no doubt, that letter is full of the same eloquent words he used to win her over.”

Marchioness Depende stood and walked to the window.

“Tsk. Normally, no matter how many introductions I arranged, he wouldn’t even give them a second glance… Not that Felice doesn’t deserve notice, with both her looks and her character.”

A small smile crossed the Marchioness’s face as she thought of Felice, but it quickly turned to a sigh.

“If only the Admiral hadn’t ended up like that…”

A shadow fell across her eyes. After the Admiral’s passing, she anticipated Baron Kelton’s downward spiral. Because she’d always kept an eye on Felice, the moment the Admiral’s funeral ended, she’d summoned the girl and insisted it was time to marry.

Felice, so much like her grandfather—sharp and clever—surely understood what marriage would mean.

But Felice had simply replied.

“My father is still with me, madam. Thank you for your concern, truly, but I’ll be all right.”

Even though it was the perfect time, with her debut just finished, Felice shook her head.

“My grandfather only just passed away. I’m not ready to marry, not yet… If my father’s heart recovers, then I’ll consider it.”

In those green eyes was a deep, trusting love for her father. However clever the girl was, it seemed her judgment was clouded when it came to family. The Marchioness couldn’t bear to worry her about things that hadn’t yet happened.

So, she’d let Felice go, and time went on. She’d hoped Baron Kelton would turn things around, just as Felice had hoped, but disaster struck after all.

By then, it was too late.

Her debut was a distant memory. Baron Kelton had lost his fortune. If she were to find Felice a match, she’d have to prioritize wealth above all.

Of course, it should have been a strategic marriage to restore the family, not a love match. Yet, surprisingly, the one who opposed this most fiercely was none other than Baron Kelton himself.

“My daughter, married to such a man? Never! I won’t allow it!”

Drunk and stubborn, he refused, and Felice herself seemed uninterested in marriage. So, she began working as a tutor, eventually bringing the child home to teach art. She had talent, but her situation made it hard to focus on painting.

She’d always intended to pay off Felice’s debts once the Baron passed away… but things had taken a different turn.

“Why did it have to be like this…”

The Marchioness muttered, pressing her fingertips to her temples.

For Claude’s public announcement as prince, he needed the support of a powerful, reputable family—one with enough honor to rally the Empire behind him. Once, the Kelton barony had such standing, but the Baron’s mistakes had squandered it overnight.

The older nobles at court would never welcome such a match.

“Ha…Looks like I’ll have to attend the event myself this time.”