The two guards immediately crossed their spears so as to reinforce the gate of the metal manor.   “The duchess had banned anyone from coming into the house, except those given with a permission by the duchess herself,” one of the guards said, maintaining a straight face.   Lord Syford’s footman immediately felt agitated on the treatment and stepped in for his master. “How impudent of you! This is the Earl of Verindale. You shalt not draw your spears just like that on a respectable man of honor as my master,” he defended.   The two guards immediately lowered their heads and apologized on the display of hostility. Nonetheless, they remain faithful on the restriction order of entering the manor.   “Our deepest apology, my lord, but the mistress of the house ordered us not to let anyone in. Unless you got her permission, only the

Few days past since the dissolution of her contracted marriage. It was also been three days since she last saw the man who had served as a host for her grand counter attack plan, and whom had taken away her innocence.   Lady Francesca hadn’t waited for Lord Syford to wake up and left, running back into the palace. There she was being confronted by the prideful man, who later ended things between them, ignoring Duchess Carlotta’s plea for swallowing the shame and continue with the wedding.   Since then, the August’s woman had rarely got out her room as if losing the will to live. Perhaps, she was having a deep remorseful moment for the grand plan she set out all these years ended up turning into dust.   That’s the thing with living up one’s life plotting against neighbors that one often overlooks to find a purpose for self-growth and improvement for themselves.