When my hairstyle is done, the maids start to bring the undergarments. It's time to choose a dress.

My personal maid selects randomly two dresses from the room nearby, and I choose one among those two.

It's the easiest way I found to make her feel useful. She has so much power, now that she can decide among the hundreds of dresses in the closet.

The other maids listen to her more eagerly when they see that I'm leaving her some decision power. I don't have to voice every little detail, and I have someone by my side who will work hard to maintain her position since no other noble lady would let her do so. I caught two birds with one stone.

Since the Duke is still on my sofa, the handmaid is particularly careful in her choice. At least, I can finally see the results of my hard work.

One of the dresses is light green, clearly chosen to appeal to the Duke. It has a plunging neckline, and the skirt is longer on the back. I sigh, thinking how dirty it will become after a few steps in the garden.

The other dress, though, is accurate for my taste. It's purple, dark purple, and it will cover my shoulders appropriately.

«The purple one,» I utter.

«The green one,» the Duke says at the same time.

My maid... Patricia, I discovered her name is Patricia, a few days ago...

Patricia realises that her idea isn't as smart as it seemed a few seconds ago. She now has to choose between two masters, and she will be serving one of them every day.

She'll, in the end, bring the green dress, but the time she needs to take action will tell me how much I have improved in her eyes.

She didn't immediately follow the Duke's words, and it gives me hope. It signals me that I'm on the right path.

Before Patricia has time to order the two maids keeping the dress in their hands, the Duke gets up from the sofa, and he steps to me.

He crouches in front of me, and he grabs my hands.

«I'd like to see you with the green dress,» he says with the pleading eyes of a puppy.

I bite my lip to refrain from reminding him that he's a highly Duke and that he can't behave like this.

However, what's the purpose of this show? If he wants me to wear the green dress that badly, he can order the maids directly. Why asking me?

Also, the maids are now staring at us, shocked. They can't believe that a Duke would lower himself in front of his wife. I wouldn't believe it either if this was the first time.

«So be it,» I sigh, in the end.

More to end this show rather than for the Duke's convincing expression. He can still work on that.

«Patricia, bring the green dress,» I continue, and the maid startles when I call her by name for the first time.

She blushes lightly and walks in the room with small, fast steps, all happy and content.

I wanted to remind her who is the person whom she takes orders from, but it didn't work the way I predicted. What issue do people in Ethiro have with first names?

«My Duke, I'm sure you have your own clothes to wear. I won't be able to bear it if you were late because of me,» I say while turning to my husband. Now that he's made enough trouble, he can go. Right?

«I don't. I'm still sleeping at this hour, so there are no clothes to wear yet.»

You can go to sleep in your room, then.

«By the way,» he continues, not paying attention to my stern expression, «where is breakfast?»

He gets up and walks back to the sofa.

«You've drunk it, my Duke,» I reveal, glancing at the empty cup of herbal tea on the lower table. It would have been of the right temperature, right now, if the Duke didn't finish it in a few gulps.

«Oh, tea is your breakfast, my Duchess?» he inquires, crooking his mouth in a worried expression.

Of course, it is. Who with a sound mind can eat at this time in the morning? I usually have some snacks around eight or nine, depending on my schedule.

Well, from when I moved here, it depends more on my mood than on my schedule.

However, I can't eat so early in the morning.

«Next time, bring some sugar,» the Duke utters. «Your tea is so bitter...»

«No,» I reply, and the maids stop for a second again. «Bring some honey.»

When I was a child, I used to sweeten my tea with honey, rather than sugar. It goes well with my morning tea, but I've stopped adding anything while growing up. Now, I drink it bitter.

There's a saying, in Polis: only children sweeten their tea. Shall I inform the Duke about it and see the maids having another heart attack?

In the end, I decide not to talk. I get up and accept that I'll have to change in front of the Duke.

At least, he doesn't look directly at me.

«It can't be considered breakfast, though. Isn't there anything else?» the Duke complains.

«I'm sure your servants do have your breakfast ready, your grace,» I reply.

Even though I'm acting impolite, I'm actually glad there's someone to converse with. The clothing procedure is so lame, and the maids don't want to hold a conversation with me.

If only I had someone update me with the new gossip, since state affairs are forbidden, or if I could have anyone read for me.

When the last detail of the dress is fixed, I walk to the Duke and sit next to him.

Now that I am ready to start my day, he can finally wake up and begin his work. He's seen every detail of my boring morning routine, so he must be itching to run out.

However, his expression tells me that he has different intentions.