Chapter 26 A Proper Apology
After a while, Oscar buried his head in his hands, silent. He exhaled. Abélie said nothing.
After a while, he continued.
“So, what I said was rude and could have seemed… presumptuous? Worse, it was as if I had insulted the duchess’s efforts instead of trying to understand her point of view.”
Abélie nodded, a sincere smile spreading across her face.
“Yes! That’s it; you understand perfectly!”
“You couldn’t just tell me directly instead of beating around the bush?”
She let out an amused — or mocking — laugh.
“It’s difficult to explain such things to a man.”
He raised an eyebrow. He really wondered how Brennan could even manage to make her a proper majordomo. Fortunately, she never showed any disrespect in public.
Still, he gave a small, affectionate smile. Deep down, what would he do without her?
“So, I should go apologise and try to understand her point of view, right?”
The young woman gestured toward the bouquet of flowers on the desk, as if it were a miraculous object.
“Yes, and with this, it will be even better.”
“Do the flowers change anything?”
“They are a kind gesture that could ease tensions,” the majordomo confirmed.
He looked sceptical; she gave a small mocking smirk.
“And if she doesn’t want to discuss patrols?”
“Well, don’t push the subject. You’ll have a better opportunity later.”
“So I apologise, and that’s it?” he asked, still doubtful.
She crossed her arms.
“It’s a miracle your father even decided to send you to marry someone.”
“It’s not my fault that you women are… difficult and complicated.”
She sniffed, twisting her fingers in her braids.
“I assure you, we are not.”
He leaned back against his chair.
“That shouldn’t affect me; this marriage is merely arranged.”
She didn’t reply, her expression still mocking. Outside, the sun was slowly beginning to set.
Oscar suddenly had a realisation and sat up abruptly, hands slamming onto the desk.
“I cannot apologise in front of everyone at dinner!”
“Everyone? Ah, you mean the servants?”
He rose, pushing his chair back a little roughly, then began pacing.
“In that case, should I send her a letter?”
“A… a letter? You are in the same castle. You should simply go see her.”
He turned to her, annoyed.
“I just told you, I cannot apologise in front of everyone.”
Abélie was about to respond but reconsidered, not wanting to complicate the discussion further. Glancing at the only clock in the office, she said naturally,
“She must be in her office at this hour.”
The young lord wondered how she could say it with such certainty.
Whatever.
“I’m not allowed in the East Wing, remember. And neither are you, by the way.”
At this, Abélie wore a guilty expression, eyes darting to the ceiling.
“Abélie.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Abélie, did you go into the East Wing without permission?”
She shifted her footing, fingers nervously twisting in her ponytail.
“M-Maybe.”
He clasped his hands, trying to remain patient. He was retracting everything he had said; this girl was going to get him in trouble.
He inhaled.
“I will not have you pull out of the dungeons if you end up there.”
“Oh, I understood; you repeated it to me.” She avoided his gaze. “Still, she must be in her office, and I believe Mr Brennan has gone on an errand. It would be the perfect time to go.”
“Is it really prudent?”
“That is for you to decide.”
He studied her for a long moment. Then he thought of Lady Brynn. He really wanted to apologise. It mattered more than he cared to admit. And after all, he was still a duke’s son; who would stop him?
“And so, on which floor is her office?”
Abélie took out her notebook — she took note of everything.
“On the first floor, directly opposite yours. You could even see it from your window if there wasn’t a tree in the way.”
He glanced outside. Indeed, a conifer blocked his view of the East Wing office. He hadn’t known she worked there.
He nodded, taking the bouquet of flowers in hand.
“You’re coming with me?”
“I think it’s more impactful if you go alone, my Lord.”
Though he wasn’t thrilled, Abélie was right. He rose again, tense, gripping the bouquet in one hand.
It was enormous. Wouldn’t he look ridiculous carrying it through the corridors? And Abélie hadn’t chosen the most discreet flowers.
“You told me flowers have… a meaning. What does this bouquet signify?”
“It’s a bouquet of mimosa, lilies, and red roses. It symbolises peace and respect. I thought carefully; travel or femininity didn’t seem appropriate. Although red love usually means passionate love, Ruth told me it could be given as a meaningful gift regardless. And paired with other flowers, it would be more subtle than alone.”
“Hm.” The young lord considered it for a moment; he liked the message. Still not the bouquet’s size. And maybe not the red roses, but what could he do now? He sighed.
“Move quickly!” Abélie scolded. “I don’t know when Mr Brennan plans to return, so you must hurry.”
“Very well, very well, I’m going.”
With little determination, he left the office.
To his great relief, the corridors were nearly empty at this hour. Most of the staff must have been busy in the kitchens, laundry, or tending fires. The few servants he passed gave only discreet sidelong glances. He expected that; it was no different than usual. Yet, with these flowers, he felt far more exposed.
He crossed the first floor to reach the grand staircase. Ignoring it, he continued toward the restricted wing. He ensured he did not catch a glimpse of Brennan out of the corner of his eye; the majordomo seemed to have eyes in the back of his head sometimes.
No one.
He continued at a slightly quicker pace.
If he had encountered almost no one in the West Wing, the East Wing was even emptier. Not a soul wandered its halls. The silence felt strange; even the wind seemed muffled. Silently, bouquet in hand, he continued toward the office Abélie had indicated as the duchess’s.
His heart beat faster with every step.
Finally, he stood before the door.
He heard the faint scratch of a quill on paper.
He inhaled…
And knocked.