ISTL CHAPTER 35

“You’re staring holes through me.”
The blue eyes that had been gazing outside suddenly shifted. Surprised, Anais pretended to look at the nearby window, even though it was firmly closed, with the curtains tightly drawn.
“We’ve arrived.”
At his words, Anais pulled back the curtains and opened the window. The iron gate of the Brienne estate was in plain sight.
“Thank you for seeing me off!”
With the coachman’s help, Anais got off the carriage and brightly offered her thanks. Seeing the very foolish smile she had been warned not to make, Max barely held back a laugh.
“After you.” “No, you first.” This little back-and-forth of insisting the other go first happened two or three times, but in the end, Max won.
Once Anais hesitantly disappeared inside the gate, silence fell, broken only occasionally by the sound of insects.
Even after quite some time had passed since Anais entered the house, Max didn’t signal the carriage to depart. But the coachman, loyal as ever, patiently waited for his command.
How much time had passed?
Just as a faint rustling sound reached his ears, the distant sound of hoofbeats followed.
“…”
Max stared intently in the direction of the fading noise. Finally, the unmoving carriage began to leave the Brienne estate.
***
The next morning, a piece of gossip set all of Barbier buzzing.
[The Flower of Barbier, Roxane, on a Date with a Gentleman at the Theater? Rumored to be with Prince Max, the third royal son…]
[After the Play, a Stroll Through Topi Park, the ‘Classic Couple’s Date Spot’]
[Some claim it was a one-sided pursuit by Prince Max…]
Roxane de Bastien’s first public appearance since her return to Barbier caused a stir simply because she showed up at the grand theater. But the biggest sensation wasn’t her elegant attire—it was the identity of the man who sat next to her during the play.
The fact that the man exchanging sweet words with her in the royal box was none other than the youngest prince of Barbier, Max, spread like wildfire.
As a result, the Marquis of Bastien’s household felt like a funeral from the early morning. Though they pretended otherwise, the moment the Marquis and his wife read the headline in the morning paper, their faces turned ashen.
The Marquis, who knew very well how intelligent his beloved only daughter was, couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling because the articles were too close to the truth.
“Roxane, why… why would you be with that troublemaker of Barbier?”
The Marchioness pushed aside her salad plate, unable to swallow another bite, as she asked. The idea that her perfect daughter had been seen socializing with the kingdom’s most notorious problem child was nothing short of shocking.
“An article like this… Imagine how much more people are going to gossip! Darling, we must deny this immediately.”
“Before that, Roxane, how much of this is true?”
Roxane looked calm, as if the rumors had nothing to do with her.
“As you saw for yourself. We watched the play in the same royal box, and took a walk while having a casual conversation.”
“Roxane! No matter how long you’ve been away, how can you possibly think Max of Barbier is suitable? This season, we’ll be deciding on your marriage prospects, and if even a rumor like this spreads…!”
“But that’s all it was,” Roxane said calmly as she sipped her coffee.
“I’ve heard the rumors about him. We just happened to sit next to each other.”
“So, there’s nothing to worry about?” her mother asked.
“Yes. Because right now, what’s important isn’t finding a ‘suitable match’ or ‘marriage.'”
The Marchioness was about to argue back, but the Marquis stopped her.
“Very well. But the matter of choosing your match is still important. It’s time for you to settle down.”
“…”
“The Crown Prince asked about you again yesterday,” the Marquis added. “He mentioned you hadn’t replied to his letters.”
The Marchioness chimed in, “Roxane, you know the Crown Prince has turned down countless political marriages because of you, don’t you? Of course, we have several options, but a royal connection would be a significant advantage for the Marquisate. Isn’t that right, dear?”
The Marquis of Bastien, sensing the darkening expression on Roxane’s face, cleared his throat, trying to shift the atmosphere.
Roxane may not have been the son he had hoped for, but she was born with an intelligence that rivaled any noble son. Wanting to give her every advantage, he had provided her with the best education possible, even grooming her as the family heir.
Roxane had always been driven, eager to learn and achieve. When she found Barbier’s educational offerings insufficient and decided to study abroad, the Marquis had fully supported her.
But, for all his modern thinking, the Marquis was still bound by the traditions of his lineage.
Had he left his daughter out in the world for too long?
Since Roxane’s recent return, he had noticed something different about her. She was more passionate about the family business and seemed increasingly indifferent to the social scene she had once skillfully navigated.
He changed the subject.
“By the way, about that matter you asked me to look into.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been using all my resources to find it, but it hasn’t been easy. It seems they used a proxy, and tracking down that proxy has proven difficult. No matter how much we bribe the art dealer, he won’t talk.”
“…I see.”
“Does it have to be that painting?”
“Count Levin seems to be trying to transfer the exclusive rights to someone else.”
“Hmm, yes. I know he’s been searching for that painting for many years.”
“Father, I don’t want to lose this opportunity. If there’s any chance we can change Count Levin’s mind, I want to pursue it.”
The Marquis let out a low sigh.
“I’ll make a stronger effort.”
“Thank you.”
At last, a sweet smile bloomed on Roxane’s face.
****
Anais was humming to herself as she worked through some paperwork. The reason for her good mood was twofold: the rave reviews from visitors about her newly renovated salon and an article from that morning’s paper.
As she hummed rhythmically, making sure everything in the salon was in perfect order, even the butler standing behind her looked unusually pleased.
“When you first told me about this plan, I honestly thought it was impossible. But I should have known better,” the butler said.
“Butler, it’s not over until it’s over. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” She hummed again, clearly still in high spirits.
“…Do you really mean that?” the butler asked, but Anais was too busy dusting the sculpture with her newly acquired ostrich feather duster to respond. This magnificent piece of art had been a gift from the Dowager Queen, specially awarded to Anais a few days ago. Along with the sculpture, the Dowager had sent a note that read:
‘It’s quite astonishing to read a decent piece of news about Max in the morning papers, rather than his name appearing in yet another unsavory poll like “The Most Unwanted Man in the Kingdom.” I hope you are pleased with this well-deserved reward.’
The sculpture’s value was beyond estimation, and from that day on, dusting, polishing, and admiring it became part of Anais’s morning routine.
Ding.
The sound of a bell chimed softly, signaling a visitor’s arrival. The commotion downstairs followed shortly after, as the butler went to greet the guest.
Standing at the landing of the staircase, Anais peered down over the banister. The butler was trying to block someone’s entry, arguing with the visitor.
“I’ve already told you, without an appointment, it’s impossible. Please leave.”
“It will only take a moment. Just a moment, I promise…”
“Butler, what’s going on?” Anais interrupted, stepping in. The guest, previously hidden behind the butler, poked his head out and smiled brightly at her.
“Ha ha, Lady Brienne! It’s me.”
Behind the butler’s flustered expression, a familiar, pale, handsome face was beaming up at her.
“…What?”
It was the man she had helped in Topi Park not long ago.