CHAPTER~04
Get Married.
Marcus Glaston had been laid to rest in a nearby cemetery.
After witnessing the final rites, the mourners offered their condolences to the family and slowly began to leave.
Once the crowd thinned, Logan—who had been speaking with other guests—called out to Yvonne.
“Come with me.”
Yvonne followed him stiffly, her eyes scanning the gathered members of the Glaston family.
But the place where her gaze finally stopped was not on Derrick, her fiancé, whom she was formally meeting for the first time today, but on his older brother—Cedric.
I probably shouldn’t bring up what happened at the train station…
She didn’t know what relationship the two brothers had, but on the surface, they were half-brothers competing for the position of heir. The chance of them getting along was low.
And in such a situation, having any personal connection with her fiancé’s older brother would only create unnecessary misunderstandings.
Fortunately, Cedric was standing a little ways away, speaking with other guests.
Hoping to get through the day without facing him at all, Yvonne stepped forward and greeted Catherine Glaston and Derrick.
Just then, Catherine—who had just finished bidding farewell to the last guest—turned toward them.
“Oh my, Duke. You came!”
“My condolences, Lady Glaston.”
“Thank you so much. It must’ve been a long journey.”
Catherine wore a black dress and no makeup, yet somehow she still looked strikingly glamorous.
“And this is Miss Yvonne, isn’t it?”
“My deepest condolences for your loss, Lady Glaston. I am Yvonne Leroy.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you from His Grace. He said you’ve been caring for your sick mother and your household so diligently. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”
Catherine warmly clasped Yvonne’s hands—just as Nadia often did.
“Oh! And come greet our son, Derrick.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Yvonne. I’m Derrick Glaston.”
Up close, Derrick was rather handsome.
It seemed that Marcus Glaston, said to be a legendary Casanova of his time, had not passed his looks onto Cedric alone.
But Yvonne’s nerves were focused entirely on Cedric, who was still talking with another guest behind Derrick.
She hoped she wouldn’t have to face him, that the incident at the train station would never be brought up.
But—
“Cedric? If you’re not busy, come greet them. You’ll soon be family.”
Catherine specifically called him over.
As Cedric turned at the sound of his name, his gaze met Yvonne’s—who had been looking at him at that exact moment.
Even in the dim, rainy train station, he had stood out. And now, among countless people, he was even more impossible to ignore.
It wasn’t his height or exceptional looks that seized her attention first—it was…
those eyes.
The eyes fixed solely on her, impossible to avoid.
Whenever he looked at her that way, she felt as if she were hiding a sin she hadn’t committed.
Cedric approached, stopping just a step away.
Yvonne quickly bowed in greeting.
“It’s… a pleasure to meet you for the first time, Sir Cedric.”
She felt guilty pretending not to know the man who had helped her, but revealing anything now would only put him in a difficult position. Surely he would play along.
But—
“For the first time…? Is it really the first?”
Caught off guard, Yvonne looked up at him.
“You seem familiar, that’s all.”
There was a spark of curiosity in his gaze—like a boy discovering a new toy.
But she had already spoken; there was no taking it back. Not in front of the Glaston family and Duke Leroy.
Meeting Cedric’s expectant gaze, Yvonne straightened her posture and looked him directly in the eye—as if this truly were their first meeting.
Cedric held that bold gaze for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.
“It seems I must be mistaken, judging by your reaction. It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Yvonne.”
Only then did she breathe a tiny sigh of relief and return his greeting with a graceful nod.
Their exchange ended there, but Yvonne’s heart kept pounding uneasily.
Because Cedric’s eyes were still on her.
His unreadable gaze stayed fixed on her for a long time—until Logan and Catherine finally finished their conversation.
—
8:04 a.m.
Cedric almost never deviated more than five minutes from his usual waking time of eight. It was a habit carved into him by many years.
He rose, brushed back his messy hair, tied his robe neatly, and looked out the window.
Even after someone dies, the sun rises just the same.
Leaves bud on winter trees.
Birds chirp.
It was an ordinary morning.
No—he even felt strangely refreshed, as if an old burden had finally been lifted.
Cedric took a sip of water and gazed blankly at the early spring scenery outside.
New buds shimmered under the morning light, greeting the day.
And then a pair of eyes—shining with that same spring color—came to mind.
“It’s… a pleasure to meet you for the first time, Sir Cedric.”
A woman with eyes like new leaves on a winter branch.
Derrick’s fiancée.
A threat to his perfect victory.
A hidden card he absolutely must seize.
The moment she came to mind, all the plans he’d pushed aside for the funeral flooded back like tangled threads being yanked at once. His temples throbbed just thinking about his packed schedule.
Most people would rest the day after a funeral.
Cedric had no such intention.
As always—no flaws, no gaps.
Not out of duty or responsibility, but simply because that was who he was.
The cold water sliding down his throat washed away the last traces of drowsiness.
He set the cup down with a sharp click and headed for the bathroom, his eyes already regaining their usual cutting edge.
—
Later, as he entered the dining room, Cedric heard exactly what he’d anticipated his grandfather would say someday.
“Get married.”
He just hadn’t expected “someday” to be the morning after his father’s funeral.
“At this rate, that brat Derrick will end up inheriting the company.”
Cedric drank leisurely as Carlyle spoke.
His posture, his grip on the glass, the angle at which he tilted it—
Every detail reflected the restrained poise of someone raised in high society.
A perfect nobleman.
All he needed now was to marry a respectable woman from a prominent family, and Carlyle would finally have the flawless successor he’d always dreamed of.
But Cedric’s reply shattered that expectation.
“I’m working on it.”
Carlyle’s eyebrow shot up.
His grandson was far too sharp to misunderstand the implication.
“Do you think I’m just talking nonsense when I say I won’t hand the position to anyone who doesn’t have a family?”
He jabbed his knife toward Cedric, his voice rising.
Though he yearned for nobility, years of living as a commoner still burst out in moments like this.
“I’ve never gone back on a decision once I made it. Not once. That won’t change.”
Cedric knew he meant it.
This was the same man who had cast out his only, wayward son without hesitation.
“So show me results—not effort! Results!”
Having worked himself up, Carlyle sighed heavily, his voice dropping.
“What about the Freeman girl?”
“The Freeman family owns a mine. They’d gain far more from the match than we would.”
“The Sherrin girl?”
“Their eldest son is still alive, so she might inherit a baronetcy at most.”
“Not that.”
Carlyle smacked the plate with his knife.
“Is there no woman you actually like?”
Cedric inwardly scoffed.
A woman is a woman. What does liking have to do with anything?
Pretending not to notice Carlyle’s irritation, he calmly cut a piece of steak and placed it in his mouth.
His father was dead.
Syphilis.
A death perfectly befitting a man who had spent half his life in brothels.
And yet now his grandfather dared to talk about love?
Was age finally making him sentimental about things like family and affection?
—
