Extra 2 – The Duke of Lusanne: Previous Life
When Redrick was shaken awake, he was sleeping with his head on his mistress’s lap.
The young nobles of Redrick’s age spent their days idly; their greatest pleasure was coming up with ever more elaborate banquets and revelries. From birth, they had already obtained what others could never achieve in a lifetime—born standing at the very top of the world, they had no need to rack their brains over future prospects or wealth. Enjoying life was their primary occupation.
A couple of days ago, a count in Florence had passed away. His young eldest son inherited all his wealth and status. The new count promptly exiled his illegitimate half-brothers to the countryside, and immediately threw a small-scale celebratory banquet—naturally without forgetting to invite Redrick, a key figure in their circle.
As one of the rare young men holding the title of Duke, Redrick boasted a noble blood and traces of ancient Roman royal lineage, making him immensely popular wherever he went. Back at the Florence Seminary, he had been the center of attention. The young count had once been a member of his circle of cronies, so naturally he would not forget to invite him to share in the joy.
This banquet had started in the afternoon and lasted until the early morning of the third day. Its end came not because the party itself had reached a natural conclusion, but because a monk emerging from the Papal Palace had brought a piece of bad news, spreading it in all directions.
“Your Grace, Your Grace, please wake up.” Redrick was awakened by a gentle yet urgent voice. He blearily opened his eyes to a pair of light blue ones.
Though only in his twenties, the Duke of Lusannne was not yet married, but he had no shortage of lovers around him, both men and women. For a young nobleman of his age, not having lovers would be the truly bizarre thing. Redrick was not particularly devoted to any single person, and his lovers were sensible enough to harbor no ambitions of becoming the mistress of the Portia household.
His recent favorite, a mistress he doted on, had been chosen by him for her exceptionally beautiful long golden hair and gentle voice; he took her with him everywhere, inseparable.
Irritated, Redrick turned over on his mistress’s lap, having no intention of paying attention to her. But his usually obedient mistress did not give up this time. Or rather, she didn’t dare leave the servant with the stern gaze standing before them. Gathering her courage once more, she whispered, “Your Grace, please—”