Chapter 47
The weather had gradually cooled. The once-scorching sun now shone with softened warmth, and the breeze that matched it blew gently through the branches.
A single leaf, having ended its life a little too soon, brushed against the spotless window and landed softly on the sill. Aisha, sitting by the window, picked up the almond-shaped leaf that had landed upright.
‘It’s unfortunate it’s already fallen.’
Unlike the other leaves still hanging green and fresh on the branches, the one in her hand had faded to a slight yellow hue. She twirled the dry leaf between her fingers, and it sparkled gold as it caught the sunlight reflected off the window.
That brilliant color reminded Aisha of a few days ago. More precisely, it reminded her of Ian’s dazzling blonde hair, which she had seen upon waking in bed beside him.
‘You’re awake?’
He had brushed back his tousled hair and muttered in a low, rough voice. That image had become a part of her daily life. But there was something she still couldn’t get used to: Ian’s demeanor once he left the bed.
‘Time for me to go.’
His hair would fall naturally, and his loose robe would reveal bare skin. Yet once he stepped away from the bed, the way he looked at Aisha was entirely different. The warmth that once seemed like it would never fade vanished as if it had never been there, and the heated voice that used to call her name turned cold as ice.
‘If I stay any longer, it’ll just be awkward for both of us. I’ve prepared a carriage. Take it home.’
Each time, the stark shift in his tone made her heart sink. They had grown closer, and they met far more frequently than before. But oddly, her heart felt more bitter than ever.
‘…I must be sleep-deprived and sensitive lately.’
Lost in thoughts of Ian, Aisha set the leaf down and pressed her fingers firmly to her eyes. With the engagement ceremony just around the corner, her nerves felt frayed—no, they were frayed.
“Young Lady, what are you doing over there?”
As she tried to shake off her gloom with rapid finger movements, Marie called out from the center of the room, bustling about.
“Don’t make that face—come here quickly. There’s a mountain of shoes for you to try on!”
Marie stood with her hands on her hips, wearing a resolute expression. Next to her, over ten boxes were stacked almost as tall as Aisha herself.
“They’ll be hidden under the dress anyway. You could’ve picked out a few more yourself.”
Aisha looked at the pile with a weary face. But Marie showed no mercy. Rolling up her sleeves, she declared,
“Not again! Don’t even think of escaping. You’re not leaving this room until you’ve tried them all!”
Her words were hardly appropriate for a servant, but Aisha only chuckled. She knew Marie was exaggerating on purpose to lift her mood.
“All right, I should listen to you. Which ones should I start with?”
“These here. I thought these looked the nicest.”
Aisha sat on the couch in the center of the room, lifting her dress, and Marie quickly opened a box and took out a pair of shoes. The glittering shoes sparkled with a soft blue hue, as if they were dusted with crushed jewels.
“Marie, have you seen my father recently?”
As she slid her foot into the shoe, Aisha asked about her father, whom she hadn’t seen in over ten days. According to her brother, the Count sometimes stopped by at dawn, so perhaps Marie had run into him.
“No, not while I’ve been on night duty.”
“Really? He’s been hard to catch lately. I wonder if he’s eating properly.”
But Marie didn’t have the answer Aisha had hoped for. Seeing Aisha’s worried face, she placed the shoe on her other foot and said cheerfully, as if to ease her mind:
“I’m not sure, but isn’t that just how business is? You know better than I do. Don’t worry—he’ll come home once he’s done with work.”
Aisha nodded at her words. She was right. The Parden family ran a business befitting its wealth, and Count Parden, as the head, was always busy. It was rare for him to be this absent, but not unheard of. The servants didn’t find it odd.
Yet something felt off to Aisha. The last time she saw him, she’d noticed a strange darkness in his face—something the servants had missed.
‘This is just because I’m on edge. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.’
Just as she managed to shake off her worries, Marie gasped in awe.
Aisha finally looked down.
“How pretty. They’ll go perfectly with the engagement dress.”
“You’re right. They are pretty. Should I go with these?”
“What? But we still have so many others to try…”
The shoes fit Aisha’s feet perfectly, gleaming even brighter as if they had found their true owner. But Aisha wasn’t interested. She took them off and said to the disappointed Marie,
“I’ll try the rest later. I feel strangely tired today.”
“Then rest for a bit. I’ll bring you some tea.”
“Okay.”
Marie didn’t insist. She neatly packed away the shoes and soon returned with a white teapot, matching teacups, and a small assortment of snacks.
The tea’s gentle aroma spread as it was poured—bitter and subtly sweet. Aisha felt her frayed nerves begin to relax as she accepted the teacup from Marie.
“Come to think of it, aren’t you going to the Marquess today? You’ve been going almost daily. You said there was a lot to discuss for the engagement.”
As she sipped the steaming tea, Marie asked about Ian—a topic Aisha had almost managed to forget. She hesitated briefly before answering with a forced smile.
“…He seems busy all day today. He won’t be at the Marquess’ house until late. He said he’d send the carriage early tomorrow instead.”
Busy tidying up the snack plates and shoe boxes, Marie didn’t see the faint smile on Aisha’s face. She simply laughed.
The sound of Marie’s cheerful laughter made Aisha look her way. Marie, noticing the question in Aisha’s gaze, spoke up.
“You two look good together.”
At Marie’s heartfelt words, Aisha gripped her teacup tightly. After a pause, she lowered her gaze and asked softly,
“…Do we really look good together?”
“Of course! He even tells you his schedule. Most men don’t. They say things like, ‘This is men’s business. Don’t worry about it,’ or ‘What would a woman know?’ Sigh… My own fiancé is from the rigid East—he never tells me anything.”
Though her words were full of complaints, Marie’s expression was bright. Aisha, watching her, recalled Ian’s words from the day before:
‘Helen Fitz will be at the same event tomorrow. I’m not going as her partner, just happened to be invited to the same gathering. Don’t let it bother you.’
Ever since they began sharing a bed, Ian had been upfront with Aisha about anything involving Helen. His honesty left no room for suspicion.
‘Um… Ian.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Ah… it’s nothing.’
Even if she wasn’t suspicious, it didn’t mean she was fine with it. Aisha didn’t like Ian constantly being around Helen. But she didn’t have the courage to voice her discomfort.
‘Don’t follow me. If you come now, I’ll never see you again!’
Their relationship had improved only after she had, for the first time, shouted at Ian and told him off. You might think she could just do it again—but Aisha didn’t have the courage to break their fragile peace.
She had barely managed to get to this point. If another conflict arose and Ian truly walked away, that possibility terrified her. Even more than that, the continued anxiety after becoming physically intimate with Ian made her shrink into herself even more.
‘What he wants from me might just be…’
Aisha looked down at her body. Though the high-collared dress covered her completely, red marks lingered underneath—remnants of Ian’s mouth. Especially around her collarbone, where he would kiss and suck repeatedly, the bruises throbbed even while sitting still.
‘…maybe this is all he wants.’
Though they had grown physically closer, she felt only more distant. Despite being together, she felt lonelier than ever. All the feelings she’d tried to suppress suddenly overwhelmed her—and a single tear slipped from Aisha’s eye.
“Young Lady?”
Marie, startled, called out. Aisha, surprised to feel something dripping from her cheek, quickly wiped her face with her sleeve.
The lace at the sleeve’s edge scratched her skin, leaving a red mark. Marie, noticing, stopped her hand and quickly pressed a handkerchief to her cheek.
“Are you all right? What’s wrong, all of a sudden…”
Marie’s voice was filled with worry. But Aisha, unwilling to show her vulnerable heart right before the engagement, barely managed to lift the corners of her lips and answered,
“It’s nothing, Marie.”
*
Under thick dark brows and deep-set eyes, a pair of thin, stern lips made the middle-aged man’s face look even harsher when expressionless. His sharp features, combined with his status as the Duke of Levantus, gave him an intense presence that left most people—regardless of gender or age—feeling intimidated in his presence.
“What is it you wanted to speak to me about, Your Grace?”
Yet Ian remained unfazed before such a man. If anything, he looked a bit annoyed, occasionally glancing at the door like he wanted to leave.
“Marquis. Are you seriously pretending you don’t know?”
“…”
“I’ll ask again since you keep feigning ignorance. Are you truly planning to marry the daughter of Count Parden?”
