The Voiceless Duchess - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Translator: Yonnee

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Was there something urgent enough to race through such a long distance? Lohengrin retraced her memory.

Three days ago, she had received a letter from his father, Duke Rotherwald, discussing plans to start preparations for her and Dietrich’s wedding once the new year’s ball was over.

Dietrich chuckled as he read Lohengrin’s question.

“Good news travels fast, and I came running because of it. My father decided to advance the wedding preparations by a month.”

He reached out, taking Lohengrin’s hands into his, and leaned closer.

“I know that there are certain steps we must follow, but isn’t it better to hurry a little? While I’ve come to Nordvant with the dowry and gifts, Father will have already secured the date in the temple…”

As Dietrich continued to speak with enthusiasm, he noticed Lohengrin’s expression growing heavy. He paused, his words catching in his throat, and swallowed hard.

Lohengrin regarded him with an icy gaze, a coldness evident in her violet eyes. Beneath those amethyst depths, there was a hint of resentment.

“Lohengrin?”

Dietrich couldn’t hide his confusion and concern at Lohengrin’s unexpected reaction.

With a gentle smile tinged with a hint of mischief, Lohengrin cast a meaningful glance towards a piece of parchment on the table—an indication that she needed to write down her response.

Unexpected news, it seems. Is that carriage outside filled with gifts for me?

“Yes, indeed. But worry not about the gifts. They may deviate from tradition, but for now—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Lohengrin abruptly struck the teacup with her spoon, creating a sharp clang that silenced Dietrich.

Dietrich sharply looked at Lohengrin’s face, taken aback by her unexpected reaction.

Amidst the cold silence that settled in the drawing room, the sound of her pen scratching against the paper echoed, as if it were the only voice left in the room.

Do you remember what happened in August? When someone asked us if we’re to be married soon, it was you, Your Highness the Young Duke, who evaded the question with silence.

The moment he read the part where Lohengrin referred to him as ‘Your Highness the Young Duke’, Dietrich had a strong intuition that something had changed drastically.

Whenever Lohengrin got really angry, she would address the person by their position rather than their name. It was a way of distancing herself while pouring out her icy criticism.

Thanks to that, there were some insulting rumors about myself and House Nordvant circulating for a while. Please don’t pretend that you don’t know. A ducal lady from a foreign country even sent a separate letter to apologize. It’s that bad.

But now, after behaving so indifferently, you suddenly present a proposal for marriage? At a time when my father isn’t here, without any prior contact?

Lohengrin handed that piece of paper to Dietrich, then immediately took out a new one to write once more.

To think you’d appear with such a rude attitude. Even the savages of Solzjog wouldn’t behave like this. Do you find Nordvant so insignificant that you can just manipulate it as you please?

Under the scathing rebuke, Dietrich’s complexion darkened.

“It is not my intention to look down on House Nordvant. I just thought it would be better to hasten things…”

He mumbled, his thumb rubbing the folded corner of the paper. Lohengrin narrowed her eyes as she glanced down at his hand.

Well. For someone from the esteemed Gideon Duchy not to have grasped this yet.

You’re rushing like this out of the blue, and it makes me wonder. Rather than a simple coincidence, is there perhaps something else in play?

“Impossible! Absolutely not!”

As Dietrich read Lohengrin’s letter, he leaped up in surprise. His neck turned a deep shade of red as he vehemently denied and stumbled over his words, unable to meet his fiancée’s eyes.

Consider it fortunate that neither Father nor Werner are here. They would have demanded an immediate annulment.

Since I’m going down to Bern early this year, we can take our time and discuss this later.

Let’s pretend that none of this happened today. You, Young Duke Gideon, never came here, nor have you met me.

After passing him the piece of paper, Lohengrin rung the bell on the table. It was a signal that their guest reception was over.

As if they had been waiting, Herta and Gunther entered through the open door.

Dietrich bit his lip, unable to hide his anxiety. He repeatedly pressed down his thumb against his clenched fingers.

Lohengrin, wearing a stern expression, lifted the teacup without showing any reaction to his discomfort.

In response to her chilly demeanor, Dietrich reluctantly rose from his seat, carrying his belongings with one hand, and bowed his head toward Lohengrin.

“…Leaving in haste after causing such confusion would be quite embarrassing. I appreciate your understanding and will visit you again when you come to Bern.”

Lohengrin showed no visible reaction. Dietrich, his lips pressed tightly together, bid his farewell.

“Then, excuse me.”

Gunther sensed an unusual chill in the atmosphere but didn’t show it. He escorted Dietrich outside.

As Dietrich left, Lohengrin let out a soft sigh, extending her hand to usher out Herta as well.

With a soft click, the door closed.

Alone now, Lohengrin propped her chin up with her left hand, her narrowed eyes fixed on the surface of the teacup.

Why the sudden rush to marriage after behaving so lukewarm all along? Even though she knew it wouldn’t be well-received on her family’s side.

It might be the right time, she thought, and she could move past it. However, Dietrich’s face, overly anxious all of a sudden, left her feeling uneasy.

A gut feeling told her that something was amiss.

Lohengrin extended her right hand and clenched her fist. The paper gathered in her hand burst into flames, making a crackling sound as it ignited. On the table, where the paper had disappeared, a small flame remained.

‘It’s been a while.’

Lohengrin greeted the flame with a pursed lip, and the firebird crackled as if to respond.

She pulled out a sheet of paper for written communication and began to write in Ancient Tongue. The black ink, following the path of the pen, shimmered blue.

Tail after Dietrich Gideon von Rutherwald.

Lohengrin folded the note and placed it in the beak of the bird, which then swallowed the paper. It pecked her palm as if to confirm, then disappeared without a trace.

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Side note: This novel’s chapters are half chapters, but they’re numbered normally to make things simple. Moving forward, the TL will be posting as often as she can to compensate for the length.