To maintain cordial relations with the lord of Sardinson County, nearly every noble had sent a trusted aide to deliver their letters. Duke Romanov was no exception. However, what set him apart from the others was that his messenger was not of humble status—he was a baron.
Unlike the increasing number of nobles who, in later times, would be left with little more than hollow titles, nobles of this era were all genuinely high-standing figures with territories and influence. But even among the upper class, there existed a hierarchy. For a powerful noble like Duke Romanov, those who worked closely with him and held positions of responsibility were often vassal nobles in their own right.
So, the fact that he sent a baron as a messenger was clear evidence of just how seriously Duke Romanov was taking this potential marriage alliance.
If it had been a noble of slightly lower rank, even if they suspected something was amiss, they likely would've accepted the proposal out of fear and deference.
Unfortunately, Felix had never intended to marry into the Romanov family, so it didn't matter who was sent.
He quickly penned a reply, then summoned the baron who had delivered the letter. With a displeased yet restrained expression, he handed over the reply and said, "Please convey this to the Duke. I'm honored that he would consider Dolores, but unfortunately, my sister is already on the verge of being engaged to someone else. I must respectfully decline His Grace's proposal."
Even as he spoke, he carefully watched the baron's reaction.
"Sister?"
The baron looked puzzled. He was well aware of why the Duke had sent him and was confused by Felix's words. Wasn't the intended bride supposed to be the Count of Williams's niece?
"I beg your pardon, Lord Williams," the baron asked cautiously, "but may I ask why you believe His Grace intended to propose to your sister? To my knowledge, he wishes to arrange a marriage for his youngest son, and the intended match is your niece. Given Miss Dolores's age, I believe they wouldn't be a good match."
Indeed, unless he'd gone mad, there was no way Duke Romanov would try to marry his youngest son to Dolores.
Felix carefully watched the confusion and doubt on the baron's face. Seeing no sign of deceit, he realized—if the man wasn't acting with unparalleled skill, then he truly knew nothing of the matter.
Putting on an affronted expression, Felix coldly replied, "Impossible. The Duke's letter clearly states Dolores's name. Do you think I could misread something that important?"
With that, he retrieved Duke Romanov's letter and tossed it over.
The baron quickly unfolded the letter and, sure enough, saw that it did indeed say "sister" rather than "niece." His heart instantly sank, as if it skipped a beat.
This letter had been handed to him personally by Duke Romanov, and he had carried it on his person ever since. So now, the question was: was this an accidental slip of the pen on the Duke's part, or had someone tampered with the letter before it was given to him?
Or... could it have been the work of Count Williams?
The baron glanced at Felix, but seeing the visible anger on his face, he dismissed the idea.
It couldn't be this count—he had no reason to pull such a trick. Moreover, the ink on the word "sister" matched perfectly with the rest of the letter, which meant it couldn't have been altered just now.
Looking closely, the handwriting of the incorrect word was identical to Duke Romanov's. At least, to the baron's eyes, it was indistinguishable. He didn't think Felix could've found someone in such a short time who could so perfectly imitate the Duke's handwriting and forge the correction seamlessly.
So, the possibility that the Duke himself had made the error seemed far more likely than the count having tampered with it.
But could someone like Duke Romanov make such a basic mistake? The baron found that hard to believe. He suspected more and more that someone had meddled with the letter.
Assuming the letter wasn't altered after it left his hands, the most likely culprit was someone close to the Duke who had manipulated the contents for some hidden agenda.
Most likely, they aimed to sabotage the proposed alliance between the Romanov and Williams families.
The baron grew increasingly convinced of this theory. Yet he knew—if Duke Romanov ever discovered what had happened, he would be the first person suspected. After all, he had carried the letter the whole way and thus had the greatest opportunity to tamper with it.
The more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead.
However, he didn't voice any of these thoughts. Instead, he said, "Lord Williams, I believe this may have simply been a slip of the pen. From what I know, the Duke does intend for his youngest son to propose to your niece—he told me so himself."
Felix looked skeptical. "Is that so? The Duke would make such a mistake? Did he not even check the contents of his letter?"
Of course, he would have. Duke Romanov might be arrogant, but he wasn't careless. He'd been locked in a power struggle with the king for years. If he truly had written the wrong thing, it would've been corrected immediately.
Which only strengthened the baron's belief that someone had deliberately tampered with the letter.
But he couldn't tell Felix that directly. So instead, he simply said, "Perhaps it was a momentary oversight."
Felix didn't press the issue further and simply continued, "Then I must trouble you to return and ask the Duke what his true intentions are. But even if the proposal is for my niece, I'm afraid I must still decline. Caroline is too young, and it is far too early to consider engagement. She's my elder brother's only child—I must be especially cautious on her behalf."
Since the fault lay with his side, the baron couldn't act high and mighty about how honored a little orphan girl should feel to be matched with the Duke's youngest son. He could only offer a polite reply: "Of course, completely understandable. I shall explain everything to His Grace."
Whether or not a marriage would take place could be left for later—the most urgent matter now was getting to the bottom of this letter incident.
The baron carefully tucked away the letter from Duke Romanov, stood, and took his leave. Felix didn't ask for the letter back—he merely nodded and let him go.
Watching the baron and his guards depart the castle, Felix finally let a faint smile appear.
At the very least, that duke wouldn't be sending any more marriage proposals for a while.
Still, he would need to have someone investigate carefully. It would be best to find out which party had manipulated the letter. Though Felix might be grateful for their intervention this time, he didn't like the idea of a shadowy figure meddling in the dark—it made his skin crawl.
Neither Felix nor Weiwei told Dolores about the matter. Since it was already resolved, there was no need to let it affect her mood.
Weiwei had scheduled the sweet potato harvest for around August 20th, based on how the plants were growing. Though they could have been harvested a bit earlier, allowing them a few extra days would increase their sweetness.
Adonis and his mother arrived in Sardinson County on August 10th. It was clear that this time, they intended to stay for a while.
When Weiwei heard of their arrival, she was in the mushroom house inspecting the growth of oyster mushrooms.
At this stage, the mycelium shouldn't have matured enough to sprout mushrooms. But possibly due to the inoculated spawn containing some nearly mature mycelium, a few clusters of new mushrooms had already emerged in the substrate. They were still very small and sparse, but the tightly clustered white caps stood out clearly in the dim room.
Both oyster and button mushrooms thrive best in low-light environments—sunlight can darken their color and lower their quality. That's why the mushroom house had been set up in the basement rooms on the north side of the castle, where sunlight never reached. The low lighting was perfect for cultivating these fungi.
The moment the first tiny mushroom appeared, the slave in charge of monitoring the room couldn't wait to inform Weiwei. Word quickly spread, and soon everyone knew: their mistress had succeeded in growing mushrooms.
Unfortunately, the mushroom house was under strict supervision—no one other than the assigned slave was allowed inside. Still, others were occasionally permitted to sneak a peek from outside, which was something, at least.
Once the growing medium was confirmed to be viable, Weiwei seized the seasonal opportunity to have more substrate prepared. This time, it was exclusively for oyster mushrooms. The chemical fertilizers stored at the research station had to be saved for autumn sowing. Until she could guarantee stable mass production, she planned to cultivate button mushrooms only in small quantities, enough for the castle's use. As for selling or expanding production, oyster mushrooms were sufficient for now.
While preparing the substrate, Weiwei also instructed the slaves to build a new batch of earthen huts behind their quarters. These would serve as dedicated mushroom houses and were conveniently located for the slaves to tend to them regularly.
Hearing that Adonis and his mother were about to arrive, Weiwei calculated the time, set aside her current tasks, freshened up, changed into a clean outfit, and went with Felix to the castle gates to receive them.
If it had been just Adonis, they wouldn't have needed to be so formal. But since his mother was with him, and given their unspoken understanding, Weiwei naturally had to greet them in person.
Dolores did not make an appearance. Although she was eager to see Adonis right away, this was more like a "meeting of the families," and she had to keep her distance until summoned by her elders—otherwise, it would be seen as immodest and improper.
Adonis's mother, Lady Aldridge, was a beautiful woman—barely forty, and thanks to excellent self-care, she looked ten years younger. With fair skin, delicate features, and jet-black hair paired with vivid green eyes, she resembled Adonis so closely that one could immediately tell where his good looks came from.
Weiwei had initially worried that the famed and reportedly formidable Lady Aldridge would be difficult to get along with. But in person, she turned out to be warm, graceful, and charming—entirely unlike her reputation.
Judging by appearance alone, she seemed rather approachable.
Weiwei breathed a slight sigh of relief and greeted them with a smile. "We're delighted to have you as our guests here in Sardinson, Lady Aldridge."
Despite her gentle appearance, Lady Aldridge's voice had a hearty, straightforward warmth. Upon seeing Weiwei, she eagerly stepped forward, grasped her hand, and said warmly, "You can call me Selina. May I call you Vivi?"
Weiwei smiled. "Of course, Lady Selina."
Selina's eyes lit up. Not satisfied with just holding her hand, she linked arms with Weiwei like they were old friends and said intimately, "No more of this 'Lady' business. If you'd like, you can call me Aunt Selina."
As she spoke, she cheerfully pulled Weiwei toward the castle, acting with complete familiarity.
Felix watched the two women walking off together with a puzzled expression, then turned to Adonis with a look that said he had no words.
He had imagined all sorts of possibilities for what Adonis's mother might be like—but never this.
She was extremely... forward.
Adonis gave an embarrassed smile. "My mother likes beautiful people."
Indeed, while Lady Selina might usually project the image of a refined noblewoman, whenever she encountered beauty, her personality would undergo a dramatic shift.
Yes—Selina was a textbook beauty-lover. And, if anything, she preferred beautiful women over men. Just look at her maids—all of them were strikingly attractive young women.
Weiwei's look matched her taste, so it was no wonder she was being so enthusiastic.
And besides, this was her prospective daughter-in-law. No amount of warmth would be too much.
While Weiwei had been worrying whether Adonis's family might disapprove of her, Selina had been fretting about whether Weiwei's side would accept her son.
Heaven knew how ecstatic she'd been when she received her servant's letter.
Selina had long been troubled by her son's lack of romantic interest. Though Adonis wasn't too old, he'd never shown any inclination toward women. He even insisted on having only male attendants around him. Coupled with his overly attractive appearance, he had received no shortage of admirers of both genders.
If he hadn't consistently shown no interest in men, Selina would've suspected he was gay. While the church officially frowned on such matters, many nobles in private swung both ways.
Now that Adonis finally had someone he wanted to pursue—even if she were a commoner—Selina would have accepted her with open arms. But Dolores's status was perfectly matched with his, and upon learning the details, Selina had been so excited she nearly rushed to Sardinson herself. Only Adonis's prior warning and letter had held her back.
Though she hadn't made the trip then, her staff had already begun preparing for his marriage.
When the invitation came, and after confirming Adonis was willing, Selina packed up and came along. Her main goal: meet her future daughter-in-law and formally initiate the marriage process.
Selina had already investigated Dolores after learning of her son's intentions. She knew the girl's background and was favorably impressed. As long as nothing went wrong, Selina had already decided this match was happening.
Shortly after entering the castle, she couldn't wait any longer. "I'd love to meet Dolores," she said. "I hear she's quite a beauty."
Of course, she had to see it with her own eyes to be sure.
Still, even if Dolores wasn't to her taste, she wouldn't object—her son's opinion came first. But if Dolores matched her aesthetic preferences, that would be even better.
And once she saw the bashful, graceful Dolores in person, Selina's eyes practically sparkled.
Having been summoned and knowing she was meeting Adonis's family, Dolores had dressed carefully, opting for a modest long dress without hoops, simple hair, and no makeup. Her clean, youthful appearance was classic and elegant.
She had originally planned to apply some makeup—after all, at her age, she was already allowed to do so. But Adonis had mentioned in a letter that his mother preferred natural beauty. She believed that true beauty didn't need cosmetics, and there was no need for heavy makeup in daily life.
Dolores was confident in her looks. The Williams family was known for their good looks, and with a sister-in-law skilled in skincare, she had always taken great care of her complexion. At her age, her skin was naturally smooth and flawless, so even without makeup, she believed she could still make a good impression.
She was right.
When Selina saw the elegant young lady curtseying before her, she was already imagining what her future grandchildren would look like. She nodded repeatedly—if this girl became her daughter-in-law, their family's future children were bound to be stunning.
"So you're Dolores? What a lovely girl." She waved her over and patted the seat beside her. "Come, sit here. Let me take a good look at you."
Dolores hadn't expected such warmth. She instinctively glanced at Adonis, who smiled and nodded. Blushing, she gathered her skirts and sat down beside Selina.
"I heard you love embroidery. Did you make the embroidery on this dress yourself?"
Selina was referring to a vividly detailed kingfisher at Dolores's neckline, wings poised mid-flight. Its eyes were made from tiny gemstones—realistic and beautiful, the only adornment on the otherwise simple dress.
Dolores nodded shyly. "Yes, madam."
Sensing her nervousness, Selina patted her hand and smiled warmly. "Don't be so tense. You can call me Aunt Selina. Or if you'd like, even Selina Mama—I wouldn't mind."
That only made Dolores more flustered. She didn't even dare meet her eyes.
"Mother..." Adonis called helplessly.
Selina shot him a glare, clearly seeing no problem with her words. If they hadn't just met, she would've gone ahead and proposed the engagement on the spot.
She continued chatting with Dolores, asking question after question—and the more she asked, the more satisfied she became. Dolores wasn't just beautiful—she was well-educated, cultured, skilled, and trained in household management. While her experience was still limited, with proper guidance, she would be a fine lady of the house.
Selina's smile grew even warmer. She turned to Weiwei and asked, "Would it be possible to let Dolores take Adonis for a walk? I heard there are some fascinating plants here."
That was just an excuse—Weiwei knew Selina wanted the two of them to have some time alone. She nodded and said to Dolores, "Why don't you show Adonis around the estate? I imagine you'd like to see the sweet potato fields?" The last part was directed at Adonis.
His official reason for visiting was the sweet potatoes, after all. Of course, he needed to see them—and yes, he also wanted time with Dolores. He nodded immediately. "Yes, madam."
He turned to Dolores, his gaze gentle. "Lola, would you do me the honor of guiding me?"
Dolores glanced again at Selina, who gave her a bright smile. Realizing the implication, she blushed and replied, "Of course."
As they left, Adonis caught his mother giving him a "seize the moment" look. He could only sigh inwardly.
Once the young couple had gone, Selina's expression turned more formal. She looked between Weiwei and Felix, then said with a smile, "I like Dolores very much. It would be wonderful if she could become my daughter-in-law."
So direct, and on the first meeting too. Weiwei turned to Felix—this was his call to make.
Felix looked surprised, but quickly replied, "That depends on Dolores. If she agrees, we have no objections."
Selina smiled, clearly pleased. She could tell Dolores liked Adonis, so this match was practically guaranteed.
Now it was just a matter of Adonis proposing. As long as everything went smoothly, the engagement would be finalized.
They chatted for a while longer before Selina was shown to her guest room. After several days of travel, the delicate noblewoman had truly suffered.
But to her regret, Adonis didn't seize the opportunity to propose. He felt it was too soon, and the moment wasn't right.
When she found out, Selina looked at him with exasperated disappointment. "Too soon? You already have the ring—what more do you need? Your father proposed after knowing me for just a few days! Why can't you be more like him?"
Adonis wisely stayed silent, letting her scold him. Finally, he said, "Don't worry. Before we return, I'll make it official."
At that, Selina finally let him off the hook. But at dinner that night, after tasting a dessert personally made by Dolores, she began urging him again.
Such a beautiful and capable daughter-in-law—what if someone else snatched her away?