Chapter 18:
“Good grief. Is Yvonne really not going to change her mind?”
“Hey, Paradi. Yvonne is just not someone who wants to get married.”
“Why not? Didn’t she used to say she wanted to start a family as soon as possible?”
“That doesn’t mean she wants to get it done like roasting beans on a lightning fire. Do you really think Yvonne wants that kind of life?”
Paradi let out an irritated sigh at her answer.
“Are you going to keep talking like it’s someone else’s business?”
“You’re the one talking about marriage like it’s someone else’s business. Engagement or not, it’s something you need to think through carefully. Nagging won’t solve it.”
Dressed as a man, Yvonne pressed her fingers hard against her eyes. After deciding to be on familiar terms with Kiryan, she gave up trying to avoid going out anymore.
“Nini. If I ever get married someday, it’ll be to you, and if I ever get engaged, that person will be you, Nini. Love required for marriage isn’t only about eros.”
“I know. Of course I know. I think so too.”
Yvonne loved Paradi dearly.
They were similar yet different, different yet similar, filling each other’s missing parts and overflowing together like igniting sparks.
They were each other’s irreplaceable friend, and both believed that if neither found a partner, they would grow old together.
It was an unspoken promise between them.
“But still, not now.”
If she were to get engaged, it would have to be after “Yvonne Moore” was out in the world. She didn’t want to sneak in hanging off Paradi’s coattails. That was her last shred of pride.
“You even know where I’m going right now?”
“You’re going to meet someone?”
“The old man is making a fuss, saying we should at least get the engagement done within the year.”
“Do well. I hope you meet someone pretty, kind, and a good match for you.”
“Aren’t you jealous?”
“You’re not jealous. Last time I went on that date alone with Tom, you even gave me concert tickets.”
“…Ha. Forget it.”
Paradi decided not to tell her that Tom liked men and had no interest in her whatsoever.
Yvonne believed it was a real date, but it was just two friends hanging out. If she knew the truth, she’d only be disappointed.
“Anyway, make sure you clean the rehearsal room floor properly.”
“Okay. Have a good trip.”
After parting with Paradi, she headed straight for the theater—only to quickly turn back the way she came when she saw someone standing in front of it.
Kiryan Hischläger was there.
*You’ve got to be kidding me. Why is he here again?*
After they’d parted last time, he hadn’t contacted her for a while, which had been a relief.
She lowered her head and tried to slip into an alley before he noticed.
But Kiryan spotted her, strode over, and grabbed her shoulder before she could escape.
*He won’t hit me for running away… right?*
Awkwardly forcing a smile, she turned her head.
It was obvious she’d been avoiding him, but he pretended not to notice.
“Where are you rushing off to?”
“Uh, that is… ha. Ha. Ha… I skipped lunch, so I got hungry.”
“I haven’t eaten either. Perfect. Let’s go. I’ll buy you something good.”
“Huh?”
“You need to eat better. Short as you are, and so skinny—people will walk all over you.”
“Ah, no—that’s not really the issue—”
“Let’s go.”
Holding her wrist, Kiryan led the way toward a restaurant.
*His wrist really does feel like a woman’s…*
So thin you’d believe it belonged to a girl.
But Kiryan didn’t think too deeply on it.
Franz had always been like that—small like a squirrel, almost pitifully so.
“This place is…”
He had brought Yvonne to the most expensive restaurant in the capital.
Since she usually drank cheap beer at pubs and rarely visited luxury establishments, her eyes widened.
Seeing this, Kiryan fought back a smile. Franz still wore every emotion on his face.
A terrible liar and a warmhearted boy—that was Franz.
“We’ll take two B-course meals.”
“I don’t think I can finish it.”
“Then leave the rest.”
“Mm.”
Since they’d agreed to be on close terms, she wouldn’t have to feel self-conscious about leaving food.
Trying to suppress her shrinking shoulders, Franz nodded.
While they waited, Kiryan asked her various questions.
“You liked plays even as a child, and now you’ve actually joined a troupe. Didn’t your family object?”
Franz hesitated.
If she told the truth, he might figure out she was actually Yvonne. But lying felt uncomfortable.
So she gave a vague answer.
“Joining the troupe is one of the best things I’ve ever done. It’s fun.”
“Where do you live?”
“Sometimes I sleep at the troupe practice room or dressing room, sometimes at friends’ places.”
“You don’t have a home?”
Kiryan had never pried deeply into Franz’s circumstances. He wanted to hear things directly and avoided background checks on people he valued.
He had neither family nor close friends.
In a world full of enemies, Franz was the only person he could relax around.
Even though they hadn’t seen each other for a long time—and Franz was now frightened of him—what Franz meant to him hadn’t changed.
So, at least with Franz, he didn’t want to behave harshly like he did with others.
“Well… uh… yeah. Something like that. But I like my current lifestyle. It’s free, and I’m not tied down to anything.”
As far as he knew, Franz had been a rich young master. But now he claimed he had no home and drifted between friends?
Kiryan’s brows furrowed, so she quickly added:
“Actually, I live with a relative, but she’s a girl, so I feel bad and stay out a lot. Yvonne Moore—she lives in District 8. A distant cousin.”
Franz had used the “distant cousin Yvonne Moore” story publicly before, so in her panic, she said the same to Kiryan.
She wasn’t the helpless boy she once was. She was still bad at deceiving others, but not wholly truthful either.
“Yvonne Moore… So that’s why you two look alike.”
“We do look unusually similar.”
“If you want, I can find you a house.”
“No, no! I’m fine! Really! I like staying with my friends. And after my parents passed, the insurance payout was decent—plus I do make some money.”
“Good. You seem strong, that’s good to see. But Franz—why do you keep talking so politely?”
“Huh? Uh… sorry.”
“Speak comfortably.”
*How could I speak comfortably to the infamous villain Duke Hischläger?*
The words lingered in her mouth.
Before she could fumble further, the food arrived. From the appetizer to the main course, everything was luxurious.
Franz kept stealing glances at Kiryan as she ate.
It was uncomfortable, but once the food entered her mouth, it wasn’t bad.
Partly because she was hungry—but partly because Kiryan, uncharacteristically, kept the mood easy.
He noticed how uneasy she was around him and refrained from cutting her meat for her. Instead, he talked about trivial things to help her relax.
“Playing the piano offstage doesn’t make me nervous the way acting does.”
“I see. Laurent gave me performance tickets recently—we’ll go see you soon.”
“Oh, sure. Come watch sometime.”
“Come to think of it, how do you know Paradi Laurent? The Laurents are a high noble house.”
Her eyes trembled slightly.
The Laurent family was one of the most prestigious in the Empire, rivaling even the Imperial Family.
For Yvonne Moore—a daughter of the equally ancient Moore lineage—it would be natural to know Paradi. But Bernicke was just one of countless insignificant families.
Her status was unclear, and she had no notable fortune.
“Um…”
“No, never mind. You share interests, so you naturally got to know each other. That was a difficult question.”
“Yeah. We met because we both like performances.”
Seeing Franz so flustered, Kiryan felt guilty for asking.
Franz and Paradi were rivals in love over Yvonne Moore, after all.
Bringing up Paradi’s noble status was an easy way to make Franz feel inferior.
*A distant cousin, and he likes a girl of different class and wealth. There’s no hope for him.*
Imagining how troubled he must be, Kiryan felt a surge of sympathy.
To encourage him, he specially ordered a very sweet cake for dessert.
While a mild misunderstanding grew between them, Franz finished even the dessert. Much to her surprise, she enjoyed the meal.
After eating, she felt uncomfortable about being indebted to him.
After hesitating a long while, she checked the amount on the bill—and instinctively spoke up.
“Um… may I repay you for the meal?”
“Haha. Franz, what’s with repayment between us?”
“I still feel bad. It’s nothing big, but… um. Do you like piano?”
“I don’t particularly enjoy it, but I don’t dislike it.”
“Good.”
She asked the restaurant manager if she could use the piano in the center of the hall.
The manager looked displeased by her shabby appearance, but after spotting Kiryan behind her, he quickly guided her to the piano.
“Ahem. This is a nocturne I like. It’s nothing special, but this is the only way I can repay you…”
Yvonne—no, Franz—began to play.
Though she followed the sheet music exactly, the warmth she carried seeped into the sound.
Franz’s playing was delicate and gentle. Her naturally soft and sensitive nature wrapped the listener’s heart in a tender embrace.
Head lowered, focused on the black and white keys, Franz was nothing like her usual dazed self.
In this moment, she was a musician who captivated her audience’s ears.
She wore a shabby coat and worn-out shoes, but none of that mattered. Her music was real.
Sunlight poured through the clear windows, yet it felt like only Franz was under a spotlight.
Her blond hair glowed in the sunlight. Her blushing cheeks looked like apples. Her fingers darting across the keys were like butterflies flitting from flower to flower.
Even the sound of the piano resembled spring.
Her real name was Yvonne, but that didn’t matter.
What mattered was that Kiryan Hischläger’s heart was pounding violently.
He thought she had changed, becoming more timid—but Franz was still Franz.
Warm as spring, bright as sunlight—those qualities lingered in her piano playing.
“Ah…”
Who would do this for him? Not from fear, or hidden motives, but from gratitude alone…
Who would play music for Kiryan Hischläger—a lowborn, feared villain—out of pure kindness?
Kiryan knew nothing about piano, but he understood one thing:
Franz’s music was magic.
Because her music was like sweet rain falling on his barren heart.
