♡ TL: Khadija SK
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Theodore tightened the corner of his mouth before responding:
“It’s true I was taken with her at first sight. No woman has ever left such a strong impression on me before. Spending time with her is enjoyable and entertaining. But this isn’t love.”
“Are you certain?”
Lady Michelle narrowed her eyes.
“Of course. Love clouds the mind, doesn’t it? Yet I’m entirely rational.”
Theodore answered with utter confidence.
Love turns people into fools, rendering them utterly capricious.
Theodore knew of many families ruined by it. He didn’t need to look far for examples.
Oscar’s parents, his own relatives, had been destroyed by a fiery love affair too.
His elder uncle had betrayed his wife with her friend and fled, only to return later, but he’d incurred his grandfather’s wrath as a result.
Theodore guarded against falling into a fleeting love that left behind a dark legacy before fading away.
It was necessary to protect the Bernier ducal family. And it was his duty to repay his grandfather’s trust.
“If that’s the case, it’ll be simpler. Choose Miss Charlotte.”
The corners of Theodore’s mouth twitched.
Lady Michelle was treating his future wife like merchandise on a counter. Whether she suited him or not, no human should be handled this way.
Moreover, with rumors already circulating, how could she ask him to end things with Hazel?
It might not affect Theodore much, but for Hazel, it would leave a stain.
Her kindness hadn’t been adequately appreciated yet due to the “spinster” label; if a mark were added because of him, it’d be disastrous.
She might no longer be invited to balls or banquets.
If he were the one rejected, it’d be different.
But Theodore didn’t want Hazel to reject him. So he couldn’t fulfill Lady Michelle’s request.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Theodore.”
Lady Michelle sighed as she called his name.
Her wrinkles seemed deeper than they’d been ten minutes ago, perhaps from the strain of arguing with him.
“If your feelings haven’t deepened yet, consider my opinion seriously just once.”
“Then give me a logical reason for your opposition to Miss Hazel.”
Lady Michelle hesitated.
“What exactly do you know about Miss Hazel, Aunt?”
Theodore repeated his question. Lady Michelle closed her eyes, then opened them with regret and said:
“That girl isn’t a noble!”
Theodore knew the Easton family’s secret.
His fists had been clenched throughout Lady Michelle’s speech.
He was utterly shocked, and more than that, he felt pained.
***
Hazel inhaled the dawn air deeply, recalling the ball from days ago.
That day had been exhausting.
The atmosphere had buzzed with speculation about her relationship with Theodore.
Baron Lance hadn’t hidden his disappointment that Theodore was his target, and the women were eager to speak with him.
Hazel, as usual, tried to be a forgotten flower against the wall, observing people’s foolish antics, but Theodore wouldn’t leave her alone.
“Shall we have some champagne?”
“Would you like to dance?”
“Are you enjoying yourself here?”
Theodore ignored the enthusiastic gazes longing for his attention, staying by Hazel’s side the whole time.
He stood with her in a dim corner of the hall, sipping champagne, and when she declined to dance, he didn’t either.
Hazel couldn’t ignore the disappointed looks from many, so she urged him to enjoy the ball, but he merely shrugged.
He said he wasn’t in the mood to enjoy himself today.
The two stood side by side, lost in their thoughts.
Theodore sought the reason for Hazel’s coldness, while Hazel pondered Oscar Sterling.
Both wandered in thoughts unknown to the other unless voiced, until it was an acceptable time to return home without breaching etiquette.
Hazel said she wanted to go back to the Easton home, so Theodore promptly found Charlotte and left with them.
“It seems being a wallflower isn’t so bad. Am I a butterfly fluttering around you, then?”
Theodore’s lighthearted quip in the carriage on the way back was the only amusement of that day.
But what did it have to do with Oscar Sterling?
Hazel’s thoughts naturally drifted toward Oscar.
She recalled the Oscar she’d seen that day.
A man of robust build, sharp features, clad in a luxurious tuxedo, and apparently with a prior history with Theodore.
“I’ll look into him later.”
She needed to learn more about him, if only because of that irksome look he’d offered her champagne with.
She had to rid herself of him before he turned any attention to Charlotte.
‘He’s not a good man.’
Hazel locked her bedroom door. Then she pulled a thick Latin book from the hidden chest under her bed and opened it.
She placed a blank sheet of paper beside the book, set a Latin dictionary atop her desk, donned sleeve protectors, and gripped her pen.
She was preparing for her translation work, her primary source of income.
Her translation work was a secret of the Easton family known only to Charlotte.
For a noble, especially a noblewoman, to work wasn’t just forbidden—it was deemed a degradation of noble prestige.
Fundamentally, earning money was proof a family lacked funds.
Though honor was paramount, the means to sustain that honor was, in the end, money.
Hazel felt disgust at the contradictions of noble society, which scorned earning money yet couldn’t maintain its lifestyle without it.
Still, why did work always have to be solely about money?
For Hazel, translation was a way to prove her abilities.
The payment from the publishing house was like the report cards she’d received in school.
Of course, she did it for money too.
She knew she’d be alone someday and had to prepare for it.
Not because the Easton family lacked wealth.
The Easton family was consistently on the capital’s ball and banquet invitation lists, indicating a solid reputation and sufficient wealth to uphold noble dignity.
In other words, there was a substantial inheritance to pass down. Per primogeniture, everything in the Easton family would go to Andre.
But given Viscount and Lady Easton’s kindness, they’d ensure Hazel received a share somehow. So she needn’t worry about her future or old age.
That applied only if Hazel accepted the inheritance.
She had no intention of draining Andre’s fortune.
Being raised without envy was enough for her.
A life filled with love was more than sufficient—beyond her wildest expectations.
“Don’t covet our family’s wealth. Unless you want to be labeled a thief your whole life.”
Lady Easton the Elder had said something similar every time she met Hazel once a year at the Thanksgiving.
Even to young Hazel’s eyes, Lady Easton the Elder’s behavior was far from noble.
In the end, Hazel retorted sharply:
“I won’t drain the Easton fortune beyond what I eat, wear, and use. Including my dowry! So don’t treat me like a thief again. Because that doesn’t just insult me—it insults my mother and father who raised me too!”
“Keep that promise!”
Thus, Lady Easton the Elder extracted a ridiculous vow. Since then, Hazel began preparing for her independence step by step.
She forged connections that could aid her, sought work a woman could do without revealing her identity or status, and acquired related knowledge.
That’s how she became a translator.
She had an exceptional talent for languages, and fortunately, her boarding school offered diverse language courses.
Hazel studied every linguistic subject she could.
She was the first to complete the beginner, intermediate, and advanced Latin courses—the least popular and hardest subject at school, yet the most useful in society.
In fact, the advanced course was opened specifically for Hazel by her Latin teacher, who cherished and nurtured her striking passion, unlike the headmistress.
Anyway, Hazel now worked in translation based on the Latin she’d learned then. She often handled research papers and novels published in other countries.
Initially, the publishing house doubted Hazel’s abilities.
That was expected.
How could they trust an inexperienced person requesting translation work through an agent?
But since the trial piece she was assigned was excellent, the jobs gradually increased until she could choose what to translate.
Her translation fees rose too.
Yet it wasn’t enough.
To amass funds for a quiet suburban home—Hazel’s goal—she had to work diligently.
She widened her eyes to cling to her focus, which kept drifting.
The dawn’s cold air flowed through the open window to stave off drowsiness, refreshing her cheeks.
Soon, Hazel immersed herself in translation.
Hours passed quietly, and when the blank pages covered with words reached ten, it was time for her meeting.
“Sister, the Bernier family carriage has arrived! Sister!”
Hearing Charlotte’s shout from the first floor, Hazel quickly tidied her desk.
It was Friday, the day she’d agreed to meet Theodore.
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