Chapter 08
Finally, Irene slowly lifted her head and saw Divoa entering the parlor. Behind him stood Javier like a shadow.
Irene blinked slowly as if she couldn’t understand why Divoa was there. Just then, Divoa, who was scanning the room, locked eyes with her.
“……”
He still looked as perfect as a flawlessly peeled potato, carved by a skilled hand. There wasn’t a single flaw in him. But unfortunately, Irene wasn’t interested in people without flaws. She was drawn to those who were broken and scarred—just like her.
Divoa’s gaze naturally shifted.
“Thank you for inviting me, Baron Rios,” he said.
The baron gave an awkward smile. Could it even be called an invitation? Who would dare decline a suggestion from Duke Cassius?
“It’s an honor to host you, Your Grace.”
Baron Rios then gestured to Lucas beside him.
“This is my son. He was too busy with business to attend the last banquet.”
“Lucas Rios, Your Grace,” Lucas greeted.
“Pleased to meet you.”
As soon as Lucas finished, Leticia interjected eagerly. She curtsied slightly, holding the hem of her dress with both hands.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Duke Cassius.”
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Rios.”
Divoa nodded before glancing at Irene. Irene, who had been awkwardly trying to stand up, froze when their eyes met again. Divoa gave her a kind smile.
“So, there are two Miss Rios here. I suppose I should call you Miss Irene, then.”
At that, Leticia’s eyes turned sharp, as if questioning why she was “Miss Rios” while Irene got to be “Miss Irene.” But Divoa’s gaze remained fixed on Irene. He extended his hand to help her up, only to withdraw it quickly and instead flash a brighter smile.
“It’s nice to meet you again, Miss Irene.”
“…Yes,” Irene replied, nodding a beat later than she should have. She had to cut off the string of thoughts in her head—otherwise, she would have missed the chance to respond, pondering over what “nice to meet” truly meant. After all, she didn’t find it nice to meet him at all.
Thankfully, her reply seemed sufficient. No one corrected her, and Divoa’s attention shifted back to the baron. Irene secretly clenched her fist, feeling proud of herself. She felt like she’d taken a small step toward being like everyone else.
“Take a seat, Baron Rios.”
Despite it being the baron’s home, Divoa naturally took the head seat. Javier stood behind him, and everyone else found their places.
“How long will you stay in Therapia?” Leticia asked sweetly.
Divoa answered with a painted-on smile.
“Well, I didn’t set a timeframe. But I’ve grown fond of this peaceful village. It’s quite calming, with serene views wherever you look.”
“You’re right. There’s no place as peaceful as Therapia,” Leticia chimed in.
To Irene’s knowledge, Leticia had never traveled beyond their town except for a brief visit to the capital two years ago. So how could she claim there was no place as peaceful as Therapia?
While Irene was puzzled over this, Lucas quickly joined the conversation.
“Do you enjoy fishing, Your Grace?”
“I enjoy it as much as the next person.”
“There’s a river here known for its mullet fishing. If you’d like, I could take you there.”
“I’ll consider it.”
Divoa was excellent at reading the room. His sharp sense of the atmosphere immediately picked up on the subtle distance between Irene and the others. It was like oil and water—they didn’t mix. Irene seemed adrift, unable to blend in with her family.
Divoa suddenly recalled the moment at the banquet when he had approached Baron Rios with a charming smile.
“Baron Rios, would you extend an invitation to me?”
The baron had looked bewildered, and so had the others. The viscounts who hadn’t received such a request had openly shown their displeasure. Watching them, Baron Rios carefully answered,
“My estate is quite humble, unfit to host someone like Your Grace.”
“What does that matter? As long as the people are good, that’s enough. I’m comfortable even in war tents, so don’t worry about it.”
With those words, the baron had no choice but to accept. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t refuse—who would want to miss such an opportunity?
“Yes, Your Grace. Thank you for granting me this honor—”
“Would Miss Rios be able to attend as well?” Divoa had interrupted.
The baron had looked puzzled but then glanced at his daughter. Leticia’s eyes shone with excitement and delight. She quickly nodded.
The baron had smiled, thinking he understood. Duke Cassius, notorious for his flirtations, must have fallen for Leticia at first sight.
“Of course—”
“Perhaps it’s best to arrange a day that doesn’t interfere with her studies, don’t you think?”
“…Pardon? Studies?”
The baron’s face stiffened as he realized Divoa wasn’t referring to Leticia but to Irene.
“If you mean Irene, she doesn’t return home during the school term,” he said firmly.
Divoa raised an eyebrow, clearly adept at pushing and pulling to get what he wanted.
“I see. That’s unfortunate. Then I suppose we’ll forget about the invitation altogether.”
He turned his attention to a waiting viscount, showing no signs of regret.
Leticia hurriedly spoke up.
“I’ll bring Irene, Your Grace.”
Just as Divoa had anticipated, they took the bait when he acted cold. It was Leticia, not the baron, who bit, though her reasons were easy to guess.
“Leticia.” The baron tried to stop her, but she stubbornly focused on Divoa .
“If we send her a letter, she’ll come immediately,” Leticia said, forcing a smile despite her trembling lips.
“Very well,” Divoa said with a nod, ending the conversation.
From there, Divoa’s observations began. Irene was the only one dressed in a worn gown while the rest of her family wore their finest. It was painfully obvious to anyone who looked that she didn’t belong.
