Chapter 17
“Something really did happen, didn’t it?”
Erica looked even more excited after seeing both my and Martin’s reactions. The curious sparkle in her eyes was downright scary today.
“I found a good donation channel.”
Martin’s low voice cut between us, thankfully shifting Erica’s attention toward him.
“You did?”
“There’s a place that meets the conditions, so I already applied. We should hear back soon.”
Erica quickly forgot about prying into my “suspicious” behavior and started chattering about the donation instead.
“I hope it’s a little girl,” she said, as if thinking about the child she had given clothes to before.
Martin subtly glanced at me, maybe expecting me to thank him for getting me out of that awkward spot.
As if.
I pretended not to notice. Sure, I appreciated it, but it’s not like I asked him to save me.
While Erica happily imagined the child she’d be supporting, Martin tapped the table lightly.
“…?”
“The exhibition is coming up soon.”
The exhibition…
That meant Baron Gilbert’s art exhibition.
I was impressed all over again by how fast things were moving. While I’d been distracted with the letters from the royal family and the Harold family, Martin had been faithfully carrying out the contract I’d signed.
“This quickly?”
“I hate wasting time.”
Martin’s business principles were clear—once a contract was made, it should be carried out decisively and without delay.
Either way, our first breakfast together as three ended without incident.
After breakfast, I returned to my room and found Mary bringing me the mail.
My curiosity quickly turned to disappointment.
Again?
It was another letter with the seal of the family I didn’t want to think about—the Harold family.
From Viscountess Harold.
Had she sent another one because I hadn’t replied last time?
The contents were much the same as before—asking when I’d pay her back for “raising” me.
If she wants an answer, I might as well give one.
I sat at my desk and picked up my quill.
I didn’t have much to say since I wasn’t her real daughter, but ignoring her clearly wasn’t working either.
To Selene Harold, Viscountess,
I have received your letter. I’ll state clearly that there are no unavoidable circumstances preventing me from writing to you. Not replying before was entirely intentional.
After blotting the excess ink, I continued writing:
And don’t act like you’ve left any money with me. This is a warning.
I knew exactly how much she had taken from Gemma.
If it were the real Gemma, she would have somehow scraped together the money every time the viscountess asked.
But since I had never agreed to anything like that, I needed to make myself perfectly clear.
The real Gemma might have let it slide, but to me, the Harold family was practically a stranger.
And no one lends money to strangers—not easily, at least.
It’s not like I had huge control over my finances either.
Even the small amount of financial freedom I did have, I’d earned with difficulty.
Gratitude I could understand. But the Viscountess clearly wasn’t the type to appreciate that.
I sealed the envelope—not with the Harold seal, but with the Cloud family’s crest.
Hopefully she’d understand what that meant.
“Mary.”
“Yes?”
She was watering the plants.
“Send this out first, please.”
“Oh, alright!”
Mary gave me a puzzled look.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, it’s just… You usually tell me to burn letters from her. This time you’re sending one.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Mary scratched her neck as if embarrassed.
“Well, I guess it’s her turn to burn my letter now.”
She didn’t get what I meant, but she accepted the letter and hurried off.
I tucked the still-damp pen deep into my desk drawer.
A few days later, Mary was busy from early morning.
Today, I had an official engagement—attending an art exhibition as its host, alongside Martin, under the Cloud family’s name.
“My lady, His Grace is waiting for you.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Babel left to deliver the message, and Mary straightened my outfit one last time.
Her hands smoothed out even the tiniest wrinkles. But staring at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help fussing with my hair.
“Mary, isn’t this a bit too much?”
“What are you saying? It’s perfect. You have such clear skin—any color suits you.”
Mary kept showering me with compliments, adding that in a public event like this, a duchess needed to show her dignity.
It was true—a formal outing like this was different from a casual trip.
More importantly, it would be the first time Martin and I attended a public event together as a couple.
Unlike Gemma, who had stayed hidden at home, I was stepping into the spotlight.
After exchanging cheek kisses with Mary, I walked toward the mansion’s front entrance.
If the exhibition goes well…
People would praise the Cloud family’s eye for discovering a talent like Master Gilbert.
It could win not only the nobles’ admiration but also the royal family’s acknowledgment.
It would show Martin as more than just a cold businessman—it would reveal his human side too.
The thought brought a smile to my face.
Rounding the corner, I saw Martin waiting at the entrance.
All dressed up as well.
Just like I’d refused Mary’s fussing, I imagined he’d resisted being dressed up too.
But with his tall build and strong frame, he looked great regardless.
Some things never change.
Even dressed neatly, the one stubborn lock of hair that refused to stay in place was still there.
“Have you been waiting long?”
When our eyes met, Martin cleared his throat and turned his head.
“…Not at all.”
We sat side by side in the carriage. Perhaps because of our previous trip, this time it was Martin who broke the silence first.
A faint smile lingered on his face.
“Have you heard the rumor?”
I almost laughed—Martin, who hated gossip, bringing up a rumor?
I hid my amusement and asked,
“Aren’t you the one who hates rumors?”
“Sometimes, I hear interesting ones.”
“What rumor?”
I turned toward him, curious.
If it had caught his interest, it probably had something to do with the Cloud family.
Martin gestured for me to lean in, as if it was something important.
Must be worth hearing, I thought, leaning closer.
That faint smile was still on his lips.
“They say we’re a loving couple. What do you think?”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
That’s it?
Martin’s brow furrowed noticeably—clearly, he wasn’t pleased with my reaction.
“What’s with that laugh?”
“Well, that’s how rumors are—just people talking without knowing the truth.”
“So you’re saying it’s not true?”
He adjusted his posture and asked again, this time with a strange persistence, almost like he was… frustrated.
An odd tension filled the carriage.
“You know as well as I do—we’re not like most couples.”
The sound of the horses’ hooves seemed louder now.
We both knew how we usually were. In the original story, Gemma had been treated as if she didn’t even exist.
Maybe the recent time we’d spent together had started the rumors.
But why Martin found them “interesting” was beyond me.
“Most couples, huh…”
He leaned back and crossed his legs, arms folded, clearly displeased. It was unlike him.
What’s with him?
His reaction felt too strong for just disliking a rumor.
When he’d first brought it up, there had been a small smile on his lips.
The man who had always seemed like an emotionless robot was now openly sulking in front of me.
Wait… Is he actually sulking?
Before I could figure it out, his voice cut into my thoughts.
“So… what do couples who get along usually do?”
He sounded genuinely curious.
How was I supposed to know? I’d never even dated.
“I guess… it’s similar to dating.”
“Such as…?”
Well, I did have some romantic fantasies.
“They’d probably walk arm-in-arm, for one.”
It was the first thing that came to mind—a typical image of a happy couple.
“Is that all?”
The way he shrugged, as if it was nothing, was irritating.
Maybe that’s why I got stubborn.
“Of course not. Do you think being a good couple is that easy?”
His red eyes lit up, and he swallowed as if paying full attention now.
I smiled, satisfied.
“On weekends, they’d go on picnics together. See plays. Never forget to exchange gifts on anniversaries. Calling each other by nicknames is a must. Oh! And feeding each other during meals too.”
“Nicknames… feeding each other…”
I nodded seriously.
…Though maybe feeding each other was pushing it.
At some point, he had pulled out a notepad and was writing everything down, his face darkening as he did so.
Guess he really is curious.
“If we’re talking about the most important thing…”
“!”
His eyes were fixed on my lips.
“Nothing beats sharing the same bedroom.”
After all, that’s where all the real history is made.
While I was feeling proud about sharing my “secrets,” I didn’t notice how quickly Martin’s pen was moving.
Lol how could you not notice 😭girly is too oblivious