♡ TL: Khadija SK
✧✧✧✧✧
Those were words she had laughed at, never expecting them to become reality.
Hazel placed her hand on her forehead, staring at the elegant man seated before her.
A man she had never imagined would propose to her—she, who cared nothing for marriage and was stigmatized in high society as an outcast.
Yet here he was, Theodore Caron Bernier, the finest suitor in the kingdom, sitting before her now.
“The manor is truly quiet and comfortable. It seems to have been tended to with great care.”
She ought to have responded with something appropriate, but Hazel couldn’t utter a single word.
The situation felt utterly surreal to her.
And her heart…
Hazel placed her hand on the left side of her chest to confirm whether her heart was still beating in its place.
Fortunately, the heart—which she thought had stopped moments ago—was now thumping steadily.
“Are you feeling unwell? Shall I open the window?”
The man rose from his seat before Hazel could answer.
Hazel was taken aback three times in just two sentences: first, by the fact that he was observing her so closely; second, by how naturally he acted in a home that wasn’t his own; and third, by how, unlike other noblemen, he moved with such ease and agility.
Typically, nobles would summon servants to handle the slightest inconvenience.
“No.”
At her curt reply, Theodore flashed a radiant smile, then returned to his seat, adjusting his posture with elegance.
Then he gazed at Hazel with a gentle smile, reminiscent of a serene spring breeze.
With his handsome face and friendly smile, Hazel recalled Charlotte’s words from a few days ago:
“They say he melts any woman’s heart. No heart can withstand him.”
Hazel agreed with Charlotte in a way, but a sudden question crossed her mind:
Am I not a woman, then?
His face and captivating appearance were pleasing to the eye, but she didn’t feel herself “melting.” She didn’t even understand what it meant for a person to melt in the first place.
Let’s suppose someone poured sulfuric acid on you to melt you. That would be painful, so why do they describe it as something joyful?
But there had been a moment when Hazel felt her heart stop because of this man.
And that was precisely why they were sitting together now.
Hazel’s mind drifted back to exactly an hour ago.
***
It had been a morning like any other.
The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and the breeze was refreshing.
Hazel woke feeling disappointed by the beautiful weather, then closed the window she had left open the previous night.
The early morning was quiet, but she knew that in two hours, the streets would grow noisy with the clatter of horses’ hooves heading toward the park.
Since the rain a few days ago, the weather had remained persistently sunny.
That would delight anyone, especially the nobles enamored with sunlight, but Hazel felt melancholic.
She hadn’t been granted a quiet, rainy moment to focus on her novel.
She could block out the noise outside by stuffing her ears with cotton, but the real problem was her younger sister, who grew excited at the start of the social season and never settled down.
“Sister, Miss Emily invited us to tea this afternoon! Will you come with me? Mr. Zendair, who’s been courting Miss Emily, will be there with his friends. Come on, let’s go together, please~!”
“Charlotte, did you ask Miss Emily if I could come along?”
Charlotte closed her mouth, then opened it belatedly:
“Of course!”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed.
“You didn’t ask her, did you? If you said I’d come with you, Miss Emily might feel uneasy.”
Charlotte’s lips pushed forward in protest.
“Miss Emily likes you, too.”
“I know. But that’s in places where there are no men.”
“That’s because…”
Charlotte bit her lower lip.
She looked as though she was holding something back, but like an impatient child, she soon spoke:
“That’s because you make men feel intimidated.”
Feeling guilty for blaming Hazel, Charlotte quickly grabbed her hand and shook it in apology.
“I know it’s because you’re so intelligent. It’s natural that it bothers you to hear men say incorrect things around you. I’m the ignorant one who doesn’t notice, but you know better, so you can’t stay silent.”
“Charlotte, you’re not ignorant. Our interests are just different.”
Hazel felt sympathy for Charlotte, who always belittled herself.
A girl who lacked nothing, possessing many qualities with her beauty and bright, friendly nature, yet she had grown accustomed to demeaning herself because of society.
Society taught that a woman must be humble, that this was the trait of a virtuous woman.
Of course, Hazel didn’t love arrogance, but she hated even more the habit of self-deprecation to elevate others without reason.
“That’s not the point, sister. If it bothers you, I’ll ask Miss Emily if you can come with me. But she definitely knows. We’re always together, so she surely assumes we’ll come as a pair, and her invitation to me means an invitation to you, too.”
Charlotte’s words weren’t entirely wrong. Charlotte adored Hazel and took pride in her.
Wherever she went, she wanted to be with her older sister, and if she couldn’t due to circumstances, she didn’t hide her disappointment.
In truth, Hazel didn’t feel at ease leaving Charlotte alone in places full of men, either.
Her younger sister was like a beautiful flower—delicate, with an alluring fragrance.
If Charlotte was beautiful in her eyes, how must she appear in the eyes of men?
And her excessive kindness made her treat everyone warmly, sometimes causing unintended trouble.
“You agreed to meet me, then went off with another man? Miss Charlotte, it seems you’re quite a corrupt woman.”
One man misunderstood Charlotte’s friendliness and tried to spread malicious rumors about her.
“Charlotte, if you’re unsure, there’s a way to confirm how much we love each other through our bodies.”
Another approached suddenly, attempting to kiss her.
“Charlotte, I’m the one suited for you! If that man keeps bothering you, I’ll challenge him to a duel!”
And a third declared his willingness to die for her.
Hazel resolved all those problems.
She recounted the obscene actions of the man who accused Charlotte of corruption until he fled in shame, kicked the sensitive area of the one who tried to assault her, and stepped forward herself to duel the one who wanted to face his rivals.
The duelist refused to fight a woman, but the truth was he fled after learning of Hazel’s victory in a sharpshooting contest the previous year.
The sharpshooting contest reminded her of another incident, but…
Hazel stopped her thoughts there.
Charlotte was before her, her eyes sparkling as she awaited the answer, “Let’s go together.”
Only someone inhuman wouldn’t be moved by those innocent eyes.
Hazel was about to nod reluctantly in agreement when…
“Chaaaarloooottee! Charlotte, where are you? Oh my goodness! Chaaaarlooootte! Come down quickly. No, I’ll come up! You’re either in your room or Hazel’s.”
The voice of Lady Easton—Charlotte and Hazel’s mother, the true authority in the Easton household—echoed, accompanied by the clamor of her heavy footsteps as she ascended the stairs.
“What’s going on? Mother sounds so excited.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened in surprise.
Hazel, too, stared at the door in astonishment.
How could Lady Easton, whose voice was loud but who was the epitome of propriety in her walk and manners, rush about like this? What could warrant such commotion?
As Hazel rolled her eyes in search of an answer, the door suddenly burst open.
“I knew you’d be here! Charlotte, what time is it, and you’re still in your nightgown?”
Lady Easton unleashed a barrage of reprimands.
Hazel nearly responded with an unwelcome retort: It’s only eight in the morning.
“Charlotte, where’s the pink dress we bought this year? Wash up and put it on immediately. Mika will help you get ready. And Hazel! Please, for today, abandon that faded purple dress and wear the green one, yes, the green dress!”
“Mother, calm down a little. Shouldn’t you explain why we need to get ready so early in the morning before deciding on dress colors?”
Hazel grasped Lady Easton’s flushed cheeks, heated from shouting, and spoke calmly. Her soft, soothing voice was effective at calming people.
Thus, whenever Lady Easton flared up for any reason, the siblings or Viscount Easton turned to Hazel, hoping she’d soothe her and restore peace and quiet to the household.
Hazel succeeded most of those times.
She’d listen to Lady Easton, offer appropriate sympathy and humor, then suggest rational solutions to resolve the issue.
So Hazel assumed today, too, her voice would calm her mother. But she miscalculated.
“Right! I forgot to mention the reason!”
Lady Easton exclaimed with blazing enthusiasm.
She turned toward Charlotte, her hands still gripped by Hazel.
“He’s coming!”
At this vague sentence, lacking both subject and object, Charlotte’s eyes widened in astonishment, and Hazel frowned in confusion.
“Charlotte! How fortunate that your marriage last year didn’t go through. He’s coming here!”
“Who do you mean…?”
“Duke Theodore Caron Bernier!”
Lady Easton shouted so loudly that Hazel felt a ringing in her ears.
✧✧✧✧✧
