Chapter 112 Prudence Faints
Priscilla stood in stunned silence, realizing that Doug’s words, should they be debated in court, would undoubtedly put them at a disadvantage. The rumors about the “companionship” had originated with them.
Doug sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Now that the gift has been delivered, I expect Duke’s estate to treat it well. Daniel Charles has served the Queen Mother for many years. If he is wronged here, it would be an affront to the Queen Mother herself. Consider that, and act accordingly.” Doug turned his horse and rode away with an air of triumph, leaving behind the murmuring crowd. Priscilla, beside herself with rage, hurriedly ordered the servants to remove the curious onlookers from the estate.
Daniel, however, had other plans. He turned to Priscilla and asked, “Where are we staying? We still have some belongings to move in. Have someone take care of it.”
Priscilla, seething, snapped, “Get out!”
Daniel chuckled, as he retorted, “Get out? We arrived in a bridal sedan, and you think we’re leaving so easily? Besides, you’re just a junior—who are you to tell me to leave? Call my dear wife to come out here.”
When Prudence heard this, she was so angry that she trembled. She gritted her teeth and said to the old maid beside her, “Drive him out!”
“But… he’s from the Queen Mother’s side. Is it wise to throw him out?” the servant asked, hesitating.
Prudence could barely catch her breath, but she still managed to command, “Give him five hundred thousand, and tell him to leave.”
The servant hurried off, delivering Prudence’s message to Priscilla. Priscilla, though reluctant to part with the money, knew she had no choice but to get rid of this unwanted “guest.”
“Five hundred thousand? Is this how you treat your husband?” Daniel sneered, unimpressed.
“You, a retired eunuch, come barging in and you think you can extort five hundred thousand? What else do you want?” Priscilla was nearly choking on her fury. She longed to hurl the money in his face.
Daniel grinned, unperturbed. “I’ve entered Duke’s estate through the front gate, and I’m a part of this family now. You think a mere five hundred thousand will send me away?”
Priscilla’s patience snapped. “How much do you want then?” she spat, her voice tight with frustration.
Daniel raised a single hand.
“Five thousand?” Priscilla gasped, her eyes wide in disbelief.
“If you’re unwilling to part with the silver, then just let us stay. I’ve already been here for quite a while, yet where is your wife?” Daniel motioned toward the house, clearly intent on barging in.
Priscilla’s heart raced. “Stop him! Stop him!” she screamed.
Daniel turned back and said coldly, “Try to stop me once, and you won’t be able to stop me again. If you don’t make arrangements for us, tomorrow I’ll take this to the tavern to tell everyone what’s really going on.”
Priscilla, pale with fear, reluctantly handed over the money. “Here, take the silver, and leave!”
Daniel, grinning, tucked the silver note away. “Your generosity is appreciated. We’ll leave now?”
Priscilla’s voice was cold. “Wait outside; I’ll have someone bring you the silver drafts.”
“No need. It’s quite cool standing right here.” Daniel’s deeply lined face crinkled into a broad, almost gleeful smile. “Who knows? If I stick around, I might even get to see Prudence.”
That remark was like a sharp thorn stabbing into Priscilla’s ears. Without hesitation, she ordered someone to fetch the silver drafts.
Five million. Daniel weighed the stack in his hand, then gave a casual wave. “My dear daughter-in-law is truly generous. Alright then, we’ll be on our way.”
“Get lost,” Priscilla spat through gritted teeth.
Daniel tucked the silver drafts away and strode off—but he didn’t leave Duke’s estate. Instead, he asked for directions to the Pearl Tower and made his way there without delay.
Meanwhile, Isolde had already hidden herself away in the Pearl Tower. Not because she feared Prudence’s wrath, but because, in situations like these, anyone who got involved was bound to suffer. Yet, hiding wasn’t an option. Hattie entered and announced, “The groom is here.”
Isolde’s eyes widened. “He’s here? He came to the Pearl Tower?”
“He’s waiting outside. Says he wants to see you.”
Isolde frowned. “Let him in, then. Best not to offend him.”
Daniel was led inside. As he stepped before Isolde, he bent slightly at the waist and greeted her with a respectful, “County Princess.”
Isolde lifted her gaze—only to see him slowly reach up and let down his hair. With an unhurried motion, he gathered it back up into a neat bun. The bright red outer robe slipped from his shoulders, revealing a fitted, slate-blue silk gown underneath.
“I am a nanny from the Queen Mother’s household. I recently left the palace. Mr. Becker, noticing I was still strong and capable, sent me to serve you.”
Isolde stared at him in stunned silence. Then, blinking quickly, she let out a short laugh. “So, today’s gift is a groom for me?”
She rose at once and gave a polite bow. “A pleasure to meet you.”
Esme Lawrence smiled—a slow, knowing smile. “It took quite the effort to have me sent here. Mr. Becker must truly think the world of you, County Princess.”
Of course, Isolde understood. A former palace nanny—especially one who had served the Queen Mother—would typically retire with a generous pension, never needing to serve another master again. A noble household at this stage of life was, in a way, a demotion. After all, these women had spent their years attending to the highest of the high—why lower themselves now?
Esme sat down gracefully, her expression unreadable. “County Princess, Mr. Becker has asked me to help you navigate the outside world, but…” Her lips curled slightly. “I believe he’s overthinking it.”
“Oh?” Hattie raised a brow. “How can you tell? You’ve barely spoken with her.”
Esme chuckled. “The County Princess has striking features—sharp, commanding. Her gaze is steady, bright, unwavering. She’s someone with a firm will, someone destined for greater things. What harm could petty schemers do to her? Even if someone were to kill her, I daresay she’d rise from the ashes.”
Isolde stiffened, staring at Esme, unsure whether there was a hidden meaning behind those words or if they were spoken in jest. Esme was certainly old—her face deeply lined, with age spots beneath her eyes and drooping lids. Yet, there was an unmistakable sharpness in her gaze, a keen, penetrating light.
She spoke quickly, her voice high-pitched, with a touch of the peculiar, androgynous tone common among palace attendants. But instead of sounding unnatural, it carried an air of undeniable authority. She was not a fawning person; otherwise, her master would not have called her over.
“From now on, please guide me,” Isolde said humbly, bowing deeper in respect.
Esme raised Isolde’s wrist gently, smiling. “There’s no need for such formalities.”
Isolde smiled in return. “I didn’t even recognize you at first. You’ve truly disguised yourself well.”
Esme smiled faintly, saying, “This is just a simple disguise. If I wanted to, I could hide my true identity from anyone, even Mr. Becker himself.”
Hattie and Hazel looked on with admiration, recognizing the deep skill Esme possessed. Doug had clearly chosen wisely.
The news of a former palace eunuch in Duke’s estate spread quickly, sparking whispers among the staff. Meanwhile, Noelle returned with urgent news. “Prudence has collapsed. They’ve called a doctor, but she fainted from the shock.”