Chapter 59
The tip of the pin wasn’t sharp enough to pierce the neck or chest. Still, just the fact that Sophia was trying to harm herself with it made Arthur feel like his heart had dropped. He quickly retraced his steps. When he found her collapsed on the ground, he knelt on one knee beside her and snatched the pin from her hand.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Sophia, staring at Arthur who was shouting at her, suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck. Arthur sighed at the sight of her soaked clothes and heaving chest.
“Sophia. You shouldn’t say things like that so carelessly.”
In the end, Arthur placed a hand on her back. As the large hand of the man moved comfortingly, Sophia’s unstable breathing began to settle.
“I—I just can’t stand it without you. It’s too painful without you, Arthur… Hic…”
Like a whining child, Sophia let her emotions pour out. Arthur closed his eyes at her words, saying she needed him.
“…Don’t cry. Someone might hear us.”
“Hngh… sob!”
“Sophia, please…”
“I’m lonely, Arthur. I’m so lonely.”
“……”
“You… You said you’d be on my side. You said you’d stay with me…”
Arthur remained silent, gently patting her back. At last, when he opened his eyes, they were filled with affection, pity, and a hint of exhaustion.
He carefully removed Sophia’s arms that were clinging tightly to him. As their bodies separated, Sophia looked at Arthur with desperate eyes.
“Alright. I’ll stay by your side. So don’t cry, okay?”
“Really? Then… then what about earlier when you said we should break up…?”
“…I must’ve been thinking poorly. I’ve been busy with the academy lately and had no time.”
As Arthur relented completely, Sophia beamed and threw herself into his arms. Arthur felt the crushing weight of guilt pressing so hard on his shoulders that it felt like it might collapse his body—but he held his breath and endured it.
‘So cruel.’
Helen looked at Ian with a resentful gaze. He hadn’t looked at her even once. At first, she simply wanted to knock the arrogant man down a peg, but after spending time as his partner, she found herself growing increasingly attached to him.
‘A man like him shouldn’t be with some plain woman. He should be mine.’
Ian was wealthy, powerful, and an incredibly attractive young man. Helen, though only a half-blood, carried imperial lineage. She was certain someone like Ian was a perfect match for her. But by the time she developed feelings for him, he was already engaged.
‘A mere merchant’s daughter who only knows how to embroider? Really…?’
Helen couldn’t believe that Aisha was Ian’s fiancée. To her, Aisha was the stereotypical noblewoman—one from a low-tier, newly risen noble house at that. She wasn’t a fashionable, successful noblewoman like Helen, nor a daughter from an old and respected family. And yet Aisha had managed to secure the young Marquis of the Lloyd household. It was an unacceptable situation in Helen’s mind.
‘I think I suit Ian better than Aisha ever could.’
“Oh my, Sophia, you shouldn’t say such things…”
‘Aisha’s only good at acting pitiful in front of Ian. She’s been spoiled all her life as the youngest daughter in the family. Can someone like her really match our noble house? The Lloyds need someone elegant and beautiful, like me.’
Fortunately, Ian’s only sister Sophia was also an ally. She hated Aisha and adored Helen.
“Sophia, I’m telling you this because I’ve had a bit to drink… I used to have feelings for Ian. Well, I guess I still do.”
“Helen…”
“But I should forget him, right? Right?”
When Sophia didn’t seem opposed to the idea of a scandal between Helen and Ian, Helen even dropped more obvious hints about her feelings. Still, Sophia, while sympathetic, didn’t interfere with her brother’s engagement.
‘Whatever. There’s always a chance. Sophia said it too, right? Nothing’s certain until the wedding. Even if they do marry, it doesn’t matter. Divorce exists, and even if he has a wife, I can still have him.’
Helen soothed her wounded pride and took another drink. As she emptied her glass, her partner for the night, Count Melbro, asked if she was alright.
“Are you alright, my lady? You’ve had quite a bit to drink.”
“I’m fine. Would you fetch me another drink? The cocktail with the cherry in it.”
“But my lady, you’ve had enough already…”
“If I get tipsy, you’ll help me walk, won’t you? Please, the cherry cocktail.”
As it became clear Helen wouldn’t back down, Count Melbro left to get the drink. Watching his retreating figure, Helen quickly walked away.
‘Seriously, why’s tonight’s partner clinging to me like that? So annoying.’
Muttering to herself, Helen moved toward a group of men she had heard were close to Ian. But before she could reach them, an older noblewoman suddenly stood in her way and greeted her in a calm voice.
“You must be Lady Helen? I’m Ian’s grandmother. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Chapter 6. Change
The scenery outside had turned red. Seeing how the garden had changed so suddenly, Aisha realized autumn was coming to an end. She tightened the shawl around her shoulders.
“My lady, I brought your tea.”
She had been admiring the autumn leaves when Marie came in with a cup of warm fruit tea. The orange hue and citrusy aroma rose with the steam as Aisha wrapped her hands around the cup. It had cooled just enough to not burn, serving as a good hand warmer.
“Would you like to go outside? It’s the perfect weather for a walk.”
Marie asked as she pulled open the half-drawn curtains. Aisha shook her head while gazing out the window. Her expression looked drained, and Marie’s face filled with worry.
‘She speaks so little these days and barely steps outside. Did she and the marquis fight…?’
It wasn’t just Marie who noticed the change—everyone in the Pardeng family, including the servants, sensed that Aisha had changed.
“Thank you, Marie,” Aisha said, placing the cup down with a faint smile.
Whether or not she knew Marie’s concern, her smile was faint enough to darken Marie’s expression even more.
“…I’m going to rest a bit. Could you draw the curtains?”
“Huh? But you haven’t been awake for long. Why not go out for a bit instead? The Marquis will be taking you to the banquet soon, so a stroll through Boves Street would be perfect.”
At the mention of Ian, a shadow fell over Aisha’s previously calm face. She sank back onto the couch, limbs heavy, and waved Marie away.
“I just want to rest. Please leave, Marie.”
“…Yes, my lady.”
Marie left the room, subdued by Aisha’s firm tone. Silence filled the room. Aisha let out a deep sigh and stared blankly into a corner.
She tried to clear her head, to think less. But the more she tried, the more muddled it became. Eventually, she started to examine her emotions.
‘Ian…’
An engagement she had long wished for. Aisha knew she should be happy. But not even a sliver of joy could be found.
In fact, she felt more hollow than ever.
‘Nothing has changed.’
The season outside had shifted, and she and Ian were now engaged. That change affected how others treated her. Friends and acquaintances now casually referred to Ian as if he and Aisha were one.
But Aisha herself felt no change. Ian was the same before and after the engagement.
He still summoned her with letters, though now under the name of her fiancé rather than in secrecy.
They would meet at the Lloyd estate or the villa on the outskirts. Most often, they ended up in bed. It was only then that Aisha could momentarily forget the emptiness—but even that was fading.
Lately, even in bed, a strange sense of helplessness weighed on her. Beneath Ian, she’d gasp and writhe, yet her eyes often grew vacant.
And once the heat in the bedroom cooled, the hollowness became unbearable. As their heartbeats slowed, Ian would quietly leave the room, as if done with his business.
Even when she woke the next morning, he was rarely there. If he was, he’d be fully dressed, working at the desk. He always made sure she got into the carriage and returned home before nightfall.
‘Get up. I told them you’d eat here. Stay for dinner.’
‘…It’s late.’
‘Doesn’t matter. I’ve already informed the Pardens you’ll be delayed for dinner.’
Sometimes, he asked her to stay for meals. But he barely spoke during them. Aisha, who used to initiate conversation, now remained silent too.
‘Why won’t he say anything…?’
On completely quiet days, Ian would suddenly ask her something out of the blue. She felt like she was being scolded and answered with awkward smiles and vague replies.
‘Just… I think I’m a little tired.’
‘No wonder you’re like that, barely eating anything. Eat properly—it’s annoying.’
When he first said she was annoying, Aisha didn’t understand. But a week ago, she finally realized what he meant.
Ian looked down at her with a frown and clicked his tongue. Muttering that she was “too thin, it’s irritating,” Aisha apologized.
‘…Sorry.’
It should have been offensive. But she didn’t even have the strength to get angry. Apologizing to Ian was already second nature.
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You—…’
For some reason, Ian scowled, stood up, dressed, and walked out. Aisha was confused, but didn’t chase after him. She slowly got dressed, went downstairs, and got into the carriage that would take her home.
That had been a week ago. Ian, clearly angry that day, had not sent a letter for six days—breaking his usual habit of writing every other day.
