♡ TL: Khadija SK
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“All of a sudden? You know I’m always worried about you.”
“No need to worry, Nick. Tell me about your little sister instead. Is she enjoying school?”
A few years ago, a school opened that common women could attend.
Until then, women’s education—even for nobles—had been conducted at home, but with growing interest in women’s schools and a sharp rise in working-class women, demands emerged for schools for ordinary women.
Women forced to work had no time to educate their children at home, and society increasingly needed an educated female workforce.
The timing aligned perfectly, so the school was established. Yet only a few could enroll.
It required family men’s approval, and tuition fees had to be paid.
The fees weren’t cheap.
Parliament approved the school’s creation but was stingy with financial support.
“Yes, she’s thrilled.”
Nick’s face softened instantly as he recalled his little sister. He spoke of her proudly for a while, saying she was clever, unlike him.
“You’re clever too.”
“I won’t deny it. But, Hazel, how did you really get here? Will I see you again three years from now?”
“No, we can meet more often for a while. You said you rest two Fridays a month, right?”
“Yeah, the machines are old and need a break. Will you come every holiday?”
“I can’t promise, but I’ll deliver the writings myself for a bit.”
“Then, can I ask something?”
Nick grew serious suddenly. He hesitated before speaking.
Hazel’s smile vanished upon hearing his request.
***
After asking the security chief to bolster patrols and guards on Essent Street, Theodore stepped out and headed to the “Blue” club before going to the park where he’d agreed to meet Hazel.
He assumed the “Blue” club would be empty at this hour.
But today, there was a prior visitor.
Theodore’s brow furrowed sharply upon seeing him.
Macason, sprawled across the table, raised a hand in greeting.
His face was plastered to the tabletop, a clear sign he’d drunk until dawn.
Perhaps he’d gone home after sunrise, grown bored of his parents’ scolding, changed clothes, and fled to the “Blue” club.
His previous and current day were as plain as daylight.
Had Macason not noticed him, Theodore would’ve turned and left, but despite his hangover, Macason’s eyesight was keen. He spotted him instantly and called out.
“Good to see you here, friend.”
“Why not just dunk yourself in a barrel of liquor?”
Theodore approached, and the stench of alcohol mixed with cologne grew pungent.
He waved a hand to dispel the foul odor.
“The liquor is me, and I am the liquor.”
Macason mumbled deliriously, still under the influence. Theodore sat on a sofa far from him.
“Hey! Avoiding me?”
Macason jolted upright, lifting his torso, but dizziness struck. He clutched his forehead and collapsed again.
“How could I? I just picked a comfy spot.”
In truth, Theodore was avoiding him.
The smell was unbearable.
“Oh, wait there. Jack! Get me an iced lemon water. You—whiskey?”
Theodore shook his head.
Had he no plans with Hazel, he might’ve had a light drink, but he had the rest of the day mapped out.
“What’s wrong? Then why’d you come here?”
While Hazel worked, Theodore needed a suitable place to pass the time unnoticed.
Staying in the carriage would’ve irked the driver, and returning to the mansion would’ve sparked questions about his early return.
So he chose the “Blue” club, expecting it to be empty—and where he could hush the staff—but he hadn’t anticipated Macason.
Had he known, he’d have gone straight to the hill to meet Hazel.
“I needed a spot to clear my mind a bit. Anyway, keep my presence here today a secret.”
“Why? Hiding something? A fling? Fraud? Murder? All three?”
“None of the above, so don’t ask why. It’s just us two here—if word spreads I was at the ‘Blue’ club in broad daylight, it’ll be your fault.”
The “Blue” club’s owner was known for discretion, so Theodore’s words rang true.
“Oh, I’ll lock my mouth tight.”
Macason had no intention of clashing with Theodore.
“Ah, I thought you were so busy with love you had no time to rest. What brought you here?”
“I am busy.”
“Did Miss Easton cheat on you? No way. Who could hate you?”
He asked and answered himself. Time with Macason was never dull.
Theodore didn’t want to discuss Hazel, but a savior appeared just in time.
“I’ve prepared the iced lemon water. What can I get you, Your Grace?”
The savior was Jack, the “Blue” club’s owner.
Jack was always polite to patrons but showed special respect to Theodore for helping him settle in the capital.
“Same for me.”
“We just got some fine whiskey.”
“I’ll have it next time.”
Jack withdrew without pressing twice—a mark of his respect for Theodore as a person, not just a customer.
“Ah, now I feel alive.”
While Theodore spoke with Jack, Macason downed the iced water and pressed his temples with his palm.
“Why drink more than you can handle?”
“Because I won a bet.”
“What bet did you make?”
With a casual question, Macason clapped both hands over his mouth.
His brown eyes darted anxiously left and right.
“B-Bet? What bet? I’m still drunk—empty words slipped out.”
“Sounds like you bet about me.”
Macason shook his head vigorously but shut his eyes under Theodore’s piercing gaze.
“I apologize in advance.”
“I’ll decide if I accept it after hearing.”
Theodore spoke with some firmness, pulling out his cigar case.
Macason waited until Theodore lit the cigar, then recounted last night’s events.
“You’re the talk of the town these days.”
“I’ve never been out of the spotlight.”
Theodore crossed one leg over the other, reclining smoothly on the sofa, exhaling smoke. Macason grimaced deeply.
‘Annoying bastard.’
But he was right, and in this moment, he admitted his mistake.
“Especially lately. Everywhere I go, I hear your name.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Even my six-year-old nephew asked about you.”
“I’m loved by men and women, young and old, without distinction. Fine, I get it—get to the point.”
Macason’s attempt to dodge the issue with flattery crumbled.
Unlike his relaxed cigar-smoking posture, Theodore’s eyes were sharp and alight.
“First, I’ll clarify I won the bet.”
“You sold me out for free booze?”
“Sold you! I defended your honor.”
Theodore tilted his head in confusion.
If he dragged this out longer, Theodore might genuinely get angry! Sensing this, Macason opened his mouth quickly:
“We bet on whether you’re serious with Miss Easton or not.”
“Huh?”
In sheer astonishment, Theodore dropped his cigar.
“To clarify, I said you’re very serious and wished you both a happy future!”
Macason justified earnestly, but one word didn’t register properly with Theodore.
Even with rumors swirling about his courtship of Hazel, they’d made such a petty bet?
“Amazing, right? But understand, friend. You’ve had plenty of flings before, but never a woman you met seriously.”
“I told you those were just empty rumors. I’ve never been involved with a woman.”
Theodore corrected him, but no one believed it.
True, he had many female friends he kept in touch with.
But they were just friends—though most men didn’t believe in innocent friendships between men and women.
“Anyway, we bet when the rumors started spreading.”
“On whether I’m serious with Miss Easton? And you bet I am? And settled it last night?”
“Exactly! As your old friend, I never thought you’d cross the Easton threshold with false intentions. I defended that fiercely!”
“I like that.”
“My honor. We concluded it based on your behavior at the ball.”
“What did I do?”
Macason pursed his lips oddly.
He didn’t speak, but his voice seemed to echo: you really don’t know?
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