“But just how grateful could he be that he will invite her all the way to his house?” Sophia frowned, voicing her doubts.
Lady Garnet quickly responded, “Gratitude is probably just an excuse.”
“An excuse?”
“If he really just wanted to thank you, he could have handed some money to a servant and sent them over.”
That made sense.
“He probably took a liking to you when he saw you at the festival. Maybe he fell for you at first sight?”
Before Lyla could say anything, Sophia quickly retorted in shock, “That’s ridiculous!”
“Why is it ridiculous? He’s twenty-four this year, so there’s not a huge age gap between him and Lyla. He’s of marriageable age but isn’t married yet, and he doesn’t have a fiancée either. It’s not strange for him to want to court a pretty woman like Lyla,” Lady Garnet explained, listing Lord Ransfield’s details with a shrug.
However, Sophia’s expression remained tense.
“But he’s a noble,” she said, concerned.
“We’re not wealthy, so would he really be serious about seeing Lyla?”
Lady Garnet hesitated for a moment before giving a brief reply, “Well, I can’t say for sure.”
While it wasn’t unheard of for nobles to marry into affluent middle-class families, such unions often involved complex entanglements and considerations.
Lyla’s family might run a sizable orchard, but they’re not wealthy enough to be considered anything more than well-off farmers. Without the level of wealth that could transcend social status, nobles generally don’t allow commoners to associate with them.
Even when passionate love stories occasionally emerge, where social status is ignored, such relationships often end in separation due to the insurmountable gap in class, or the couple runs away at night to live a difficult life.
For these reasons, when a noble expresses interest in a commoner, it’s rarely taken as a serious intention to form a committed relationship, let alone marriage. More often than not, it’s seen as a fleeting affair, or worse, the commoner woman ends up as a mistress, becoming the subject of gossip and scandal.
Knowing this, Lyla’s family was worried and upset at the idea of a nobleman approaching her with such unsavory intentions.
“Lyla, you’re not going to go, right?” Sophia asked, causing Aslan to flinch. He glared at the invitation in Lyla’s hand with cold, steely eyes, he wanted to tear it up right now, to go to the bastard who sent it and-
“No, I wasn’t planning on going in the first place, but if there are any hidden intentions like that, I definitely won’t go,” Lyla firmly replied.
At her resolute refusal, Aslan’s expression softened. He smiled brightly, as though he had never entertained such dark thoughts. However, his relief was short-lived, as Lady Garnet continued to press the matter.
“Still, it might be a good idea to go. Lord Ransfield isn’t a bad person. He’s down-to-earth, kind, and has a great reputation. If something bad happens in the village, he’s always the first to roll up his sleeves and help. There’s never been any gossip about him with women.”
Lady Garnet spoke quickly, not giving anyone a chance to interrupt.
“Besides, Lord Ransfield is a long-standing pillar of this community. Most of the people in this village rely on the work he provides for their livelihood. If you fall out with him, the villagers might not be too happy about it.”
At those words, Lyla’s expression darkened.
While it wouldn’t matter much if she were on her own, this was where her family lived. If things became awkward with the villagers, it would be difficult for her family to continue living comfortably here. They were already treated as outsiders since they moved here a few years back, and if bad rumors started circulating…
“Nonsense! If that’s the reason, then there’s even less need for you to go,” Sophia said firmly.
“Lyla, don’t worry about us. Just do what you want.”
Lyla pondered what would be the better choice.
Refusing outright on the spot didn’t seem like the best option. Leaving aside the possibility of retaliation from Lord Ransfield, there was the issue of Lady Garnet herself.
The gossip-prone Lady Garnet would likely spread the news of Lyla’s refusal throughout the village immediately. If, as Lady Garnet claimed, Lord Ransfield was well-regarded in the community, Lyla’s cold rejection towards the gesture of gratitude might be poorly received by the villagers. That could negatively affect her family as well.
‘Lady Garnet’s assumption that he’s interested in me might just be her speculation, and the invitation only mentions wanting to thank me for my help during the festival…’
After a moment of hesitation, Lyla made up her mind.
“…No, I’ll go.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He sent an invitation, and it wouldn’t be polite to decline it outright. I’ll go.”
“Lyla…”
“Don’t worry, nothing will happen.”
“Still…”
“I’ll accompany her.”
Aslan interjected smoothly.
“That would certainly ease our worries, but… will that be okay?” Sophia trailed off, concerned that bringing someone uninvited might cause a problem.
Aslan smiled elegantly and said, “It’ll be fine.”
Everyone fell silent. There was no need for further explanation—Aslan’s words carried an inherent sense of trust.
And so two days later, it was decided that they would accept Lord Ransfield’s invitation.
The estate of Lord Ransfield, who was practically the village’s leading figure, wasn’t far from Violet House. Just past Lyla’s family orchard, near the seaside, there was a grand old mansion situated on a vast plot of land. This was where Lord Ransfield resided.
It was surprising that, despite living so close, they had never interacted before and weren’t even aware of his existence.
The carriage sent by the lord passed through the wrought-iron gates and crossed the garden.
As the carriage stopped in front of the mansion’s entrance, a young man with a bright smile approached, as if he’d been waiting.
“You’ve arrived.”
The man who greeted them was someone Lyla vaguely recognized. His face looked slightly more refined than when she had seen him at the festival. It was clear that he had taken extra care with his appearance for their meeting.
‘So this is Lord Ransfield…’
Though Lyla didn’t know his true intentions for inviting her, it was clear he was showing her kindness.
As she received his escort and stepped down from the carriage, Lyla grasped her skirt and curtsied.
“Thank you for the invitation.”
“The pleasure is mine. I’m glad you came.”
“I’m also happy to see you again.”
At the sound of the pleasant male voice from behind Lyla, Lord Ransfield’s gaze shifted upwards. And then further upwards… much more than he’d anticipated.
‘Why is he so tall?’
Feeling a subtle discomfort, Lord Ransfield finally looked at Aslan’s face and was startled.
It was that same man—the one who had intimidated him at the festival.
Though his strikingly handsome face was just as he remembered, his appearance this time was entirely different.
The man, who once looked like an unmistakable commoner, was now dressed in a neat formal suit that seemed even more impressive than the one Lord Ransfield was wearing.
‘Could that possibly be from the latest collection by Cantwerk Tailors?’
Cantwerk Tailors was the most renowned tailoring shop in Eres, so popular that even Lord Ransfield had only managed to secure one outfit from them—and that was years ago, from an outdated collection, and at a considerable expense.
But here was this man, standing before him, wearing a brand-new, highly sought-after design that money alone couldn’t easily acquire.
Not only had this man arrived with Lyla, a woman whom Ransfield had taken a liking to the moment he first saw her, but he also stood by her side protectively, exuding an air of threat towards him.
To top it all off, he was taller, more handsome, and now, even better dressed. The fact that this man was wearing the latest design from Cantwerk, and wearing it well—no, excellently—only added to Ransfield’s irritation.
He had never seen anyone wear that suit so impeccably. It looked even better on him than it did on a mannequin, as if the clothing truly came to life on his frame.
With every detail scrutinized, it was clear that Lord Ransfield had lost in every regard. Although it was a one-sided contest that he had initiated and lost on his own, the defeat still stung.
Feeling the weight of his inferiority, Lord Ransfield’s shoulders slumped.
‘Wait a minute, do I really have a reason to feel so defeated?’
When he compared everything point by point, there was nothing in which he was superior. In fact, during the festival, he had been so intimidated by the man’s sheer presence that he had fled.
But this was his home.
No matter how threatening the man before him might seem, here, he was surrounded by his own servants and knights, all ready and waiting.
Daring to be disrespectful towards the owner of the mansion, Lord Ransfield, would be impossible.
With that judgment, a strange sense of confidence welled up inside Lord Ransfield.
“Ahem!”
Lord Ransfield straightened his shoulders and said, “And who might you be? As far as I recall, the only person I sent an invitation to was Miss Lyla Violet. I’m afraid I wasn’t prepared for unexpected guests.”
In other words: You’re an uninvited guest. I haven’t made any arrangements for you, so kindly leave!
Aslan, fully understanding the underlying message, responded with a pleasant smile.
