♡ TL: Khadija SK
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The most handsome man in the kingdom, the finest suitor on the continent, a walking statue, the richest man in the realm, and a mad rogue.
The titles bestowed upon Theodore were numerous and varied. Some were widely known, while others were privy only to those closest to him.
For instance, the title “mad rogue” was one circulated solely among his closest friends.
Thus, for Hazel—who had never once laid eyes on Theodore—he was known to her through titles that never failed to include the word “finest.”
These were pieces of information she neither wished to know nor cared about in the slightest.
“Sister, I saw that duke from afar once, and he’s truly stunning!”
For someone to be “stunning”…
To Hazel, it seemed an expression more fitting for a disguised criminal in a murder novel than a description of a real person, but she nodded indifferently nonetheless.
Then she cast a fleeting glance at the clock and let out a swift sigh.
Only thirty minutes had passed since Charlotte began her lecture about the duke.
Charlotte seemed prepared to talk all day, but Hazel felt so bored she could barely suppress a yawn.
With effort, Hazel stifled the yawn that surged to her throat, causing tears to naturally well up in the corners of her eyes.
“Sister! You’re not listening to me, are you?”
She had hoped her distraction wouldn’t be noticed, but the quick-witted Charlotte immediately detected the signs of boredom on Hazel’s face.
Instead of evading, Hazel admitted simply, “I’m sorry.”
“Sister, you should care about people a little more.”
Charlotte placed her hands on her hips, mimicking the boarding school headmistress.
“Miss Hazel lacks interest in others. A person cannot live alone. Care about those around you, be kind and friendly. Otherwise, you’ll end up alone, living in isolation and growing old as a lonely spinster.”
Charlotte tucked her chin to her chest and deliberately deepened her voice. She was truly skilled at imitation.
“You have a talent for acting.”
Hazel genuinely admired Charlotte’s talent.
Not only did Charlotte mimic the voice, but she also precisely recalled the words the headmistress used to admonish Hazel.
The headmistress had never liked Hazel, who skipped lessons in etiquette, embroidery, and music—the core subjects of the girls’ boarding school—and devoted herself solely to law, mathematics, and astronomy, subjects included only for formality.
Moreover, Hazel wasn’t kind to adults and was curt with the boys who were painstakingly brought in as her partners for dance lessons, making her, in the headmistress’s eyes, a genuine troublemaker. She even questioned the institution of marriage itself!
In short, Hazel never aligned with the school’s goal of raising a “quiet and gentle wife.”
At first, the headmistress and teachers tried to reform her with enthusiasm.
They emphasized the sanctity of the role of the gentle wife who managed the home with tenderness, respected her husband, and raised her children with virtue.
And each time, Hazel responded with a bewildered and astonished expression:
“Does a home become warm through the woman’s efforts alone? But how can she respect her partner if the husband is a terrible man? And what does the husband do, then, besides eat and sleep?”
No one had ever posed such questions, so the headmistress and teachers faltered, parroting obvious answers like parrots:
“That has been the role of women since the dawn of time.”
As this pattern repeated, the headmistress began to see Hazel as an unsolvable problem, a disgrace to the school, and eventually resorted to cursing her:
“You’ll become a lonely old spinster.”
That was the worst fate the headmistress could envision for Hazel. But Hazel welcomed it, secretly praying, “May I live as you’ve cursed me.”
If Hazel found a way to earn a living, wouldn’t it be better to live alone, free from offering feigned respect or making sacrifices?
“I’d have plenty of time to read books, too.”
Even if servants handled household chores, marriage would impose on her, as a wife, countless responsibilities, shrinking her personal time and limiting her hours for reading and contemplation.
That, to her, was far more terrifying than being labeled a spinster.
It seemed the rigid headmistress, whom Hazel deemed unqualified as an educator, had some foresight, for Hazel had indeed become a spinster, just as predicted.
In her sixth year since her debut in high society, Hazel had reached the age of twenty-five.
In a society where girls were expected to debut at nineteen after graduating from boarding school and marry before twenty-two, twenty-five was an age that made her a burden to her family and earned her the title of “spinster.”
“Please, sister, focus a little. Isn’t it possible that this man could make your heart race?”
Hazel’s hand, which had instinctively reached for her book, paused.
Finally, Hazel understood why Charlotte had clung to her, speaking endlessly about the finest suitor despite her lack of interest; it seemed she aspired to play matchmaker.
“What?”
But she didn’t grasp the reason.
Hazel tilted her head in confusion, prompting Charlotte to grip her wrist firmly.
“Think carefully about why you become ‘wallpaper’ at balls.”
“Wallpaper” was a term used in high society for those uninterested in the primary goals—love and marriage—who stood by the wall, merely eating.
It wasn’t a kind description, but it wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
Hazel sometimes wished she could remain wallpaper at balls forever.
“Why don’t you care about men and marriage? It’s not as if no one has ever proposed to you!”
“None of them were normal.”
“Exactly! That’s the point! The first to propose was the bald Sir Philip, the second two years ago was Sir Bertison with three children, and the third last year… who was he again?”
Hazel frowned.
Not out of resentment at Charlotte recounting her dark history, but because she couldn’t recall.
In truth, Hazel had long since erased from her memory the men Charlotte mentioned.
All that remained was a faint recollection of Charlotte and her parents’ intense frustration over those humiliating offers.
“Anyway, he was the worst of the three.”
Charlotte struck the bed with her fist, as if the mere memory enraged her, sending a small cloud of dust into the air before it settled.
Hazel had reached her limit.
She had listened to stories that didn’t interest her, her past had been dredged up, and all she wanted now was for Charlotte to return to her own room.
“And then?”
Hazel urged Charlotte to get to the point quickly.
“What do I and the finest suitor have to do with you?”
“I know why you don’t care about love and marriage.”
Hazel nodded as a sign for Charlotte to continue.
“You haven’t met the man who can make your heart race, that’s all. Since you were young, you’ve always said you wanted someone smarter and more rational than you.”
“Isn’t that what everyone wants?”
“No! I don’t like overly smart people, and I think my friends feel the same. People who are too clever strut about like peacocks. Oh! Of course, it’d be different with you. You’re the smartest woman in the kingdom!”
Charlotte admired Hazel’s intelligence.
Though she didn’t graduate at the top due to the boarding school’s system, she was never defeated in subjects men typically delved into, like law, mathematics, and astronomy.
In fact, after concealing her gender, she had secured first place in prestigious academic exams! But her admission was revoked because she was a woman.
“Anyway, I heard the duke has never lost first place at the academy. And he’s so tall, you’d never look too tall beside him!”
Hazel’s height was one reason for her lack of popularity among men. In a kingdom where the average woman stood at 160 cm, a woman of 170 cm wasn’t exactly welcomed.
“Do you think that’s all? No! They say he’s very kind. I’m sure he’s the one who’ll melt your frozen heart. And he’s rich! You need to think about your future, too. If you marry him, you’ll be able to buy all the books you want!”
Charlotte knelt, raising her hips and clasping her hands, gazing at the ceiling as if receiving a descending angel. And the angel she awaited must surely be Theodore, the finest suitor in her eyes.
“If he’s so wonderful, why don’t you marry him?”
Hazel stood, unable to listen any longer, the words slipping from her mouth without thought.
But upon reflection, it seemed a brilliant idea.
Charlotte was so interested in Theodore, and if he was as she described, he was intelligent enough to be an acceptable brother-in-law.
“His family is prestigious, and he’s wealthy, so he wouldn’t make you suffer. And besides, didn’t you say he’s kind?”
For Charlotte, who easily felt lonely, Theodore seemed an ideal husband.
Hazel’s eyes lit up with vitality.
“That’s the best option, Charlotte. You marry the duke.”
“Oh my goodness! Sister, I really don’t like overly smart men.”
“But if that smart man cared only for you, wouldn’t that change your mind?”
“Well, that’s true, but…”
Charlotte hesitated, biting her lips.
“If you became a duchess and helped me live with dignity, I wouldn’t have to worry about my future anymore!”
These words didn’t reflect the truth, for Hazel had been saving for a long time to ensure a living for herself, even if she remained unmarried.
“That’s true. But even if I don’t necessarily marry the duke, I’ll help you if you remain unmarried.”
Charlotte’s eyes wavered.
If Hazel stirred her emotions just a bit more here, Charlotte might lose interest in Theodore, or at the very least, leave the room.
“Charlotte, you’re the finest bride in the kingdom. You’re the one suited for the duke.”
These words were meant to shoo her younger sister away, but at the same time, they weren’t mere empty flattery.
Charlotte, dubbed the “ruby flower” of the kingdom, hadn’t lost the title of finest bride since her debut in aristocratic society the previous year.
During the social season, the family home buzzed with suitors, and the scent of the flowers they brought gave Hazel headaches.
The corners of Charlotte’s mouth trembled.
It was a sign her emotions were wavering.
If I push just a little more, it might work!
Then Hazel could read her book in peace, alone!
Hazel stealthily reached out, pulling the book to her chest, and opened her mouth:
“Charlotte, when I imagine you as a duchess, my heart races. How splendid you’d be as the lady of a ducal house.”
Charlotte listened to Hazel’s words with hesitation, but her eyes suddenly sharpened.
She had spotted the book Hazel was carefully clutching.
“Sister! You’re just sweet-talking me because you want to read your book, aren’t you? You don’t care about my marriage at all!”
“How could I not! Your happy marriage is the greatest wish of my life!”
Because of her exaggerated reaction, Hazel’s words sounded less sincere.
But even so, Charlotte’s mouth, which had been set in determination, crumbled without resistance.
“Aww~ You love me so much. Oh, but that’s not the point right now! If you really care about me, put the book aside and listen to me more. I swear, this man is the one who’ll make your frozen heart beat! Oh, sister!”
Charlotte, who had nearly fallen into Hazel’s cunning trap and ended up alone in her room on a rainy day, almost shouted.
Hazel secretly scoffed at her naivety.
“A man who makes my heart race? That’s impossible. No such man exists in this world.”
She was certain of it.
But someone had once said…
God is exceedingly cunning; He does not favor humans who assert with absolute certainty that something could never happen.
Thus, the moment a person declares with conviction that a thing is impossible, events take an unexpected turn, leading precisely to the occurrence of that very thing.
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