Lenard was a person who rarely felt regret. He believed that dwelling on regret when faced with a situation that couldn’t be undone was less productive than analyzing the events that transpired and considering their potential impact on the future.
‘Why did I agree to go along…?’
However, Lenard found himself in one of those rare moments of regret while riding in a carriage heading to the theater.
Initially, everyone had planned to share one carriage, but due to the unexpected addition of someone, they ended up splitting into two carriages.
In Lenard’s carriage were himself and Ezkhiel. Meanwhile, in the other carriage were Letticia, Kenneth, and Count Austin Selburne.
‘Weren’t Ezkhiel and Letticia supposed to be on a date? Why is Austin even here?’
Of course, during the social season, it wasn’t unusual for debutantes and their suitors to go together to events like plays or picnics. In fact, having a group of people accompany them was often the norm.
The reasons for such group outings varied—from narcissistic individuals who wanted to relish the sight of multiple suitors competing for their attention, to more pragmatic individuals who wanted to efficiently evaluate several suitors at once due to time constraints.
Lenard had no issue with others doing this. However, the situation changed when it involved his sister’s suitors, especially when those suitors included his friends and juniors.
Just as Ezkhiel was Lenard’s closest friend, Austin was Kenneth’s best friend. Moreover, Austin and Lenard had also been acquainted during their academy days, often spending time together. Before Austin became a Count, Lenard had even considered scouting him to work at Sharon Jewelry.
When Austin expressed his intentions to court Letticia, Lenard could hardly believe his ears. Now, seeing Austin brazenly insert himself into this theater outing was bewildering, to say the least.
‘Austin isn’t usually the type to force himself into situations.’
Austin was sociable but nothing like those who lacked awareness. In fact, he had an innate ability to act in a way that avoided offending others, all without seeming overly cautious.
So, why would someone like Austin suddenly show up uninvited to what was clearly a date between Letticia and Ezkhiel?
Though Lenard appreciated not having to witness his sister and best friend chatting sweetly side by side, he had no desire to deal with the headache Austin’s presence brought.
He sighed unconsciously, prompting Ezkhiel, seated across from him, to look at him with concern.
“Lenard? Why do you look like that?”
“…It’s nothing. I’ve just been busy lately.”
Quickly, Lenard adjusted his expression to one of neutrality. As much as he wanted to vent his frustration, he knew Ezkhiel was likely feeling far worse, given the sudden appearance of a rival.
Ezkhiel’s confidence when it came to relationships was already practically nonexistent—if anything, it was buried deep underground. Now, with Austin’s unexpected intrusion, Ezkhiel was probably feeling even more dejected.
Lenard’s sense of decency wouldn’t allow him to complain in front of someone clearly in a worse state than himself.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You look really tired. Are you sure you’ll enjoy the play?”
“You know me. If I didn’t think I could make it, I wouldn’t have gotten in the carriage in the first place. Besides, I wanted to watch the play too. Watching it will help me blow off some steam.”
As Lenard shrugged, Ezkhiel seemed convinced and stopped asking further questions. Ezkhiel knew that, unlike himself, who often pretended to be fine even when struggling, Lenard was the type to openly admit when he was having a hard time.
“Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since I’ve gone to see a play. But is ‘The Secret of the Clocktower’ really a good choice? I heard ‘The Lovers of Aquarius’ is more popular…”
“If you’re thinking about Letticia’s tastes, she’d probably prefer ‘The Secret of the Clocktower.’ Kenneth, on the other hand, would go for the traditional romance.”
“…Your family is really something else.”
At Ezkhiel’s blunt comment, Lenard turned his gaze from the window. He had a good idea of what Ezkhiel would say next.
“There’s no issue with a man liking tea, enjoying desserts, or preferring romance—it’s just a matter of taste. But is it because your family is new nobility that you don’t care about these things?”
“Probably not. Even among other new noble families, many pressure their members into liking sports, coffee, and alcohol just to mimic the traditions of the old nobility.”
The new nobles were newcomers to the world of nobility. Lacking clear guidance on which rules to follow or cultural norms to adopt, they often saw mimicking the traditions of the old nobility as the safest course of action.
When the old nobility, whose authority stemmed from their lineage and status, acted whimsically, they were seen as exercising their freedom. However, if a new nobles family, whose status was acquired through wealth, behaved in the same way, it would be labeled vulgar.
“Yeah… your family really is different.”
“Well, as long as we follow the necessary rules when we need to, we’re allowed to live freely otherwise.”
“So, your family has no expectations for Lady Sharon’s future partner?”
“Not really, as long as the marriage goes smoothly and doesn’t cause any scandals.”
Just as Lenard was about to say that all Ezkhiel needed to do was win over Letticia’s heart, Ezkhiel beat him to the punch with a question.
“Lenard, you’re not deliberately arranging all these meetups to help the Lady and me get together, are you?”
“…What makes you think that?”
Caught off guard by the fact that he had been deliberately setting things up, Lenard responded with a question of his own. Ezkhiel gave a self-deprecating smile and replied weakly.
“You’ve helped me every time I’ve been ignored or rejected by women when asking for a dance. Now that it looks like the Lady is interested in me, aren’t you just trying to help because you think it’s convenient?”
“I wouldn’t call it convenient, but yes, I’m helping you.”
Ezkhiel’s expression showed that he was hurt by this blunt response. Realizing his mistake, Lenard quickly clarified.
“I’m not saying you’re lacking anything! It’s just… think about it. How would a brother feel about his friend dating his sister? Watching the two of you blush at each other in front of me would make me question my life choices, you know?”
“Wouldn’t you actually prefer that? In most cases like this, the family backgrounds match well, and since they’ve known each other since childhood, they’re likely to have a happy marriage.”
“Yeah… that does sound like something the old nobles would think.”
Traditionally, noble marriages were determined by familial connections, conditions, and alliances. From this perspective, marrying someone familiar seemed safer than marrying a stranger.
Lenard, now reminded of Ezkhiel’s old noble roots, began to explain cautiously.
“It’s hard to explain… but Letticia isn’t like other women. With her, there’s no need to put on appearances. I know how she really is when she’s relaxed at home, her unfiltered personality. Thinking about you two dating feels a bit… dishonest, like I’d be letting you walk into a trap.”
“What trap? What’s so wrong with the Lady?”
Ezkhiel’s genuinely confused expression made Lenard momentarily tempted to spill all of Letticia’s embarrassing episodes.
From sneaking terribly written poems into his documents to spewing coarse language she must’ve picked up somewhere, and even grabbing him by the collar and shaking him when annoyed—Lenard knew all these stories could ruin Ezkhiel’s image of her.
But if those stories caused Letticia’s romantic prospects to fall apart, she might follow through on her occasional threats of setting his room on fire. The thought of his sister becoming an arsonist and his room turning to ashes was enough for Lenard to choose his words carefully. He decided to share only the aspects of Letticia that Ezkhiel would find appealing.
“Letticia is incredibly meticulous. She never does anything without careful thought.”
“You’re the same way, Lenard. Always saying, ‘If you do this, you should get that in return.’”
“That’s only because you’re terrible at managing your own gains. Anyway, do you remember the ball at our mansion? You and Letticia had dinner together then.”
“…What about it?”
Ezkhiel’s face turned slightly red at the memory. Avoiding his gaze, Lenard replied curtly.
“Letticia negotiated with me about the number of dances she’d have with other men during that ball. Did you know about that?”
“Negotiated? About what?”
“She asked me to arrange meetings with you. For every three dances, she demanded one arranged meeting.”
Ezkhiel froze completely, his expression one of disbelief as he processed what he had just heard.
“…The Lady… asked you to set up meetings with me?”
“Yes. For every three dances, she earned one meeting. Since she danced ten times, she got four meetings in total. One for the boating outing and one for today’s play… wait, no. Today’s play doesn’t count since Kenneth suggested it. So, three meetings remain.”
“………”
Ezkhiel lowered his head and remained silent for a moment. Lenard stared at him, wondering if he’d finally gained some confidence. A few seconds later, Ezkhiel raised his head again, wearing a faint smile.
“Then, at the very least, I have three more chances to meet the Lady like this.”
“Hey, that’s—”
At that moment, the carriage came to a stop in front of the theater, and Lenard’s yell was cut off by the carriage’s sudden jolt.
