A Day In The Grand Duke’s Life (2)

It was that dream again.

He had no idea how many times he’d dreamed it now.

“What is this…”

Ever since seeing Alicia in the garden of the marquess’ estate, Reichardt had often dreamed of that moment.

There was no way to explain it, but the Alicia in his dreams always appeared more beautiful and mysterious than in his memory.

Memories were imperfect—perhaps the real Alicia had looked even better than the dream version.

But the face gazing up at the sky in the dream held a power that made it impossible to look away.

To be honest, the dreams had never caused any harm.

It wasn’t as if dreaming about someone caused them injury, nor did it harm the person having the dream.

But whenever he woke from this dream, an inexplicable unease would linger.

Each time he had it, Reichardt was left with a strange pang of guilt.

It made him feel like he harbored deeply improper thoughts, and it disgusted him.

After tossing and turning in bed, Reichardt rose promptly and sat in the armchair beside the tea table.

He drank the water that had been prepared ahead of time and nibbled on a cookie filled with chocolate and nuts.

Even after finishing the palm-sized cookie and his second glass of water, the frown didn’t leave his face.

His hand remained pressed to his forehead.

Crackling sounds rose from the firewood in the fireplace.

Drawn by the sound, Reichardt moved closer to the fire.

Only after finishing the rest of his water while listening to the sparks did he manage to relax his expression.

The early light of dawn slowly began to rise.

As he tried to shake off his tangled thoughts, the bedroom door opened, and Henrik entered.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

Beside Henrik stood a silent, quick-handed page.

The page bowed without a sound and opened the door to the dressing room.

“Henrik.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Reichardt spoke while staring at the still-burning fireplace.

“Did someone come by in the night?”

“No, Your Grace. The cold has not yet reached that level. Is something the matter?”

Henrik approached, concern written on his face.

The page, who had retrieved the outfit for the day from the dressing room, returned and opened the door.

Beyond the open door, younger pages moved swiftly.

The boys were busy preparing a silver basin filled with hot water, sponges, grooming scissors, a silver hairbrush, and shaving tools.

In a wide, square silver tray, they laid neatly folded linen towels.

On a short table, bottles of toner and perfume stood in a row, ready for use.

Henrik watched the pages without missing a beat as he examined Reichardt’s sleepwear.

“The bed feels… unrestful.”

“Perhaps it’s because we rearranged the bedroom recently. Shall I have Connie adjust it again?”

“No, leave it.”

Reichardt shook his head as he stepped toward the table with the basin.

While he washed, the pages worked diligently around him.

Henrik went to the window, drew aside the heavy curtain, and opened the shutters.

Returning to Reichardt’s side, he pulled a card from his coat and placed it on the table.

On the stiff card, Reichardt’s daily schedule was written in elegant calligraphy.

While the Grand Duke sat and reviewed the card, the pages brought over several pairs of shoes and waited for permission.

Indoor shoes for the private quarters and library, along with outdoor shoes and boots to replace his evening slippers, were placed near the footstool.

Regardless of whether he had any outings planned, Reichardt always selected a pair of shoes and boots in advance.

At his gesture, some shoes were moved to the front of the dressing area, others stored away in deep cabinets.

Once the Grand Duke finished his selections, the pages tidied up and withdrew from the room.

Reichardt handed the schedule card to Henrik and walked into the dressing room.

As he changed clothes, Henrik cleared his throat.

“Ahem, Your Grace.”

Reichardt changed from sleepwear to loungewear with a detached attitude.

“Speak.”

“Lady Alicia has requested an audience.”

His hands stopped mid-buttoning his shirt sleeves.

But only for a moment.

Reichardt ignored Henrik’s watery eyes and replied coolly.

“Decline.”

Henrik’s cheeks flushed red as he followed him.

“Your Grace, it’s already the fifth time!”

“Tell her not to come again.”

Reichardt exited the room and headed toward where breakfast was being served.

“She may not have been scheduled to accompany you, but she is your future lady of Tessen. It is only proper that you allow her an audience.”

“I’m busy these days.”

“Do you know how long the journey is from Lilizet Villa to the main estate? You mustn’t ignore the Countess’s efforts in always coming dressed impeccably to request a meeting.”

Henrik spoke urgently, veins rising on his neck.

His expression was nearly resolute.

Roderick, standing by the door, lowered his gaze politely and nodded.

Though the movement was faint, it was enough to be clear.

Jamie, standing beside him, only blinked—but his face showed full agreement.

“Just serve her breakfast and send her off.”

As Reichardt sat at the table, steaming oatmeal porridge was served.

A teapot, teacup, and water glass were placed on one side.

Sweet rolls and warm, mildly seasoned bread were also brought on plates.

Jamie, watching the meal being served, approached Henrik and whispered.

“I’ve ordered breakfast to be sent to the Lady as well.”

Reichardt, spooning oatmeal with a silver spoon, glanced at Henrik and Jamie standing by the table.

The Baron of Rens and his son both looked deeply sympathetic toward their master.

There was even a hint of pity.

Though their appearances were completely different, their expressions were so alike it was obvious they were father and son.

“Well done.”

Accepting a silver egg cup with cooked eggs, Reichardt shot them both a disgruntled look.

He offered verbal praise while slicing the egg in half with his silver spoon.

“Now that Your Grace has a fiancée, wouldn’t it be nice to dine together? Every time I see you eating alone and working by yourself in the study, it pains me.”

Jamie carried a blue leather dispatch case containing official documents.

“Bring it to the study.”

Reichardt sipped the tea Henrik poured for him and gave a light command.

Jamie, unable to continue speaking, bowed his head and left the dining room.

Roderick guessed that Jamie would place the dispatch box on the Grand Duke’s desk and then go directly to the private secretary’s office.

Jamie Rens was the son of Baron Henrik Rens and the Grand Duke’s private secretary at the Tessen main estate.

The Grand Duke’s private secretary recorded all Tessen-related reports, disagreements, and opinions to present to the Duke.

Jamie would now take the recent conversation and compose it into a formal report.

And Reichardt, finding the report filled with unnecessary chatter, would most likely tear it up and toss it away.

“Your Grace.”

Roderick called out as Reichardt was finishing his meal.

“Speak.”

Reichardt’s brows twitched faintly as he ate a mildly salty and sweet brown biscuit with his tea.

His tone clearly conveyed, “What is it this time?”

“The Lady asked whether she could tour the estate, even without a direct audience with Your Grace.”

At Roderick’s words, Henrik responded with exaggerated concern.

“The Lady, on her own?!”

Reichardt completely ignored their exchange and said only what he needed to.

“Roderick, you’ll escort the Lady with the guards. She may have trouble staying aware of her surroundings, so limit her to one companion.”

“I cannot allow that. If I leave Your Grace’s side, what will become of you?”

Roderick quickly objected.

“I’ll be fine. I’m heading to the study.”

“Your Grace, beginning work right after breakfast? How about a short walk at least?”

Henrik hurriedly spoke as he cleared the table.

Reichardt gave no reply and left the dining room.

Left behind, Roderick and Henrik exchanged words.

“Not going out today?”

“Seems not.”

At the confirmation that Reichardt had no plans to leave the estate, Roderick looked disappointed.

Reichardt, who usually enjoyed outdoor activities, was clearly planning to shut himself in and work all day.

“Where will he take lunch?”

“Probably the Oak Dining Room.”

Henrik answered with uncertainty.

“Open the windows wide.”

Roderick, mentally mapping the layout, spoke firmly.

“The wind seems strong today; I’m concerned.”

“What’s more concerning is if His Grace skips lunch.”

Roderick muttered that if the Lady got hungry while touring the estate and left early to return to Lilizet Villa, it would be a problem.

“I’m worried he’ll skip lunch entirely. The way he went off to the study didn’t look promising.”

Henrik began selecting a new tea to send to the study.

He chose the simplest dessert to accompany it.

“I’m ashamed before the Lady. She’s his fiancée, yet comes every single morning without fail to request an audience. Is he avoiding her on purpose, or is he really that oblivious?”

“Maybe he’s just shy and finds it embarrassing.”

At Henrik’s gentle excuse, Roderick grumbled.

“Shy? His fiancée has come all the way to the estate—shouldn’t he at least invite her for lunch, afternoon tea, or dinner? Tell him properly, would you?”

Roderick left after reiterating his command to open the windows wide at lunchtime.

Before accompanying Alicia, he intended to firmly instruct the guards on how to properly serve the future Grand Duchess.

Henrik, meanwhile, counted on his fingers and rehearsed the words he would say to persuade his master.

He also prepared different phrases in case Reichardt reacted differently.

Even after the tea and dessert were arranged, Henrik continued practicing.

Meanwhile, seated at his study desk, Reichardt rested his hand on his forehead—though he wasn’t in any pain.

It seemed like Alicia was trying to fulfill her role simply because she was his fiancée.

Despite being refused time and again, she kept coming every morning to request an audience.

“Is she just too young to understand?”

But Alicia wasn’t the clueless type.

When she insisted on tagging along to Tessen to see the estate’s gold reserves, she’d even borrowed the Emperor’s authority—clearly, she had tact.

“Wasn’t it the golden chamber she wanted to see? I already gave her all the keys.”

His aides probably hoped that Reichardt would warm up to his young fiancée and that something would develop between them—but that was out of the question.

He was a reasonable and conscientious adult.

Though the child clung to her position as his fiancée and likely didn’t fully grasp the situation, he would sternly draw the line.

“Maybe I should go hunting.”

Perhaps because of the dream from the night before, he couldn’t focus even while seated at his desk.

Though his eyes were open, the face smiling up into the sunlight from his dream kept flickering in his mind.

Reichardt spread out the documents and forced himself to focus on the writing.

Each time those radiant violet eyes began to rise in his vision over the dense text, he tensed the muscles around his own.

It had been a far more unsettling and uncomfortable dream than expected.