Chapter 6
The Viscountess couldn’t hide her momentary surprise at Vivian’s sudden behavior and gently nudged her forward.
“You need to greet them, Vivian.”
Back toward the guests.
Vivian was sent forward mercilessly, her steps awkward and ridiculous, like a tiny waterfowl thrown into the pond.
She truly didn’t want to do this—but she knew she had to. The etiquette she so despised was an essential law for a noble. Any further mistake would surely earn her stern reproach from her gentle mother.
The Viscountess guided Vivian’s arms in front of her and gave a subtle nudge at her waist. Realizing the intent behind the gesture, Vivian hesitated, then finally lifted her dress’s hem. Slowly, just as she had been taught.
“What a charming young lady.”
Noma’s teasing yet warm comment made Vivian’s cheeks burn red. The young Viscount responded to the light greeting by clasping the Viscountess’s hand and then turned his gaze toward Vivian.
Vivian straightened the bow of her curtsey, meeting the Viscount’s eyes for a fleeting moment. A small child, who might have been more suited to holding her waist in a bow, shivered and grasped her dress again, bending deeply.
“I—I am Vivian Mabel.”
Her voice trembled, thin and high. By the time Vivian finished her greeting, the hem of her dress was slightly crumpled, a subconscious result of her nervous grip. Edmund accepted the greeting with a polite nod and followed Lady Mabel along with Noma.
Glancing briefly at the sharp profile of the young Viscount, Vivian hurriedly followed in small, bustling steps.
Despite her best efforts, the pace of the adult Viscount was almost too fast to keep up with—but Vivian refused to fall behind, moving with even greater urgency.
In a voice barely audible to anyone else, she whispered to her mother:
“Who is that?”
“That is the Viscount Lockeberg.”
“The Viscount?”
Lockeberg. Lockeberg. Lockeberg…
Vivian repeated the name under her breath, stiffening as she processed it. Her eyes widened at the revelation of such a prestigious guest. Even someone still learning Argent etiquette and social manners could recognize the significance of the Lockeberg name.
The only ducal family in the empire, long-standing rulers of Argent’s elite. The name Lockeberg carried weight, not just for their status but for their striking beauty. Having now seen the young Viscount, Vivian could see the truth in the rumors she had heard.
Why hadn’t anyone told her sooner?
She flushed, recalling the disastrous curtsey she had just made. She had already ruined her first impression. Though the moment had passed, the thoughts continued to press on her, making her anxious.
Determined to avoid further mistakes, Vivian followed her mother closely.
“I have instructed the staff to prepare a dinner for the Viscount and the Lady Noma,” the Viscountess announced.
Entering the dining hall, Vivian fixed her gaze on the sharp profile of the Viscount. Behind him stood her father, speaking in measured tones. Her attention was drawn to the center of the table, where noble poise flowed uninterrupted—a grace surpassing anyone Vivian had ever met.
The Viscount’s eyes were a deep black, their edges blending into an almost endless gray, giving off an inexplicable magnetism. To Vivian, he was breathtaking—so much so that simply looking at him sent shivers down her spine.
The dinner had been meticulously prepared by the Viscount’s family, flawless down to every detail. Everyone, except Vivian, followed etiquette to perfection, as if waiting for this moment.
Even the usually nervous kitchen maid, Lina, and the chef, Hans, swallowed hard, focusing all their attention on ensuring the dinner proceeded flawlessly.
“With such a grown Viscount here, Lockeberg will surely enjoy another generation of glory.”
“Indeed, a true blessing of Lockeberg,” Catherine replied warmly, and the Viscount and Viscountess nodded in agreement.
At that moment, Vivian, who had been cutting her steak with her head bowed, dropped her knife.
Clang!
The sound pierced the calm atmosphere of the hall.
Vivian inhaled sharply, her heart blocking her thoughts. Locking eyes with the black gaze of the Viscount, her mind went blank. Her face flushed, and she stammered:
“I-I’m sorry.”
The stares directed at her made her embarrassment and frustration almost unbearable.
The Viscountess laughed awkwardly to break the silence and ease the tension created by the young girl’s mistake.
“Haha. She’s just learning etiquette. Raised without siblings, everyone doted on her as she grew up.”
“I see.”
“The first dinner with unfamiliar guests must be nerve-wracking.”
Vivian slowly lifted her lips to speak, her small chin betraying her slight upset. Observing her bowed shoulders, the Viscount spoke gently:
“It’s all right.”
His measured voice reached her ears, and Vivian lifted her head slightly, unable to avoid the steady gaze upon her. She pressed her hands together under the table, fidgeting nervously.
Edmund observed the trembling shoulders of the child, pulling his chin up lazily. But his interest soon waned, and he returned his attention to the interrupted meal.
“How long will you be staying here?”
“Until the end of summer, I believe.”
Noma’s calm gaze landed on Vivian. For a fleeting moment, she felt a pang of sympathy for the child, who looked ready to cry.
“The Lockeberg summer villa is famous for its beauty. If it pleases you, I would like to invite the Viscountess’s daughter to visit.”
“…Eh?”
The hall fell silent again at Noma’s unexpected offer. Vivian’s eyes widened in surprise.
Lockeberg’s summer villa—the only place in the Fovert estate that Vivian had never visited because it was restricted as private property.
She could actually go there? Her heart raced with excitement.
“Would that be all right, Edmund?”
“Yes.”
The young Viscount’s answer made Vivian’s smile gradually bloom.
The Viscountess, equally excited at Noma’s offer, displayed a faint tremor in her voice. Turning to see Vivian’s delight, she smiled warmly.
Relaxed at last, Vivian resumed her meal, her hands moving carefully over the plate.
Lockeberg’s summer villa—a place she had only glimpsed from afar—was said to be more beautiful than any castle she had ever seen. Its gardens glimmered with the blue hues of the Tanic Sea, and the villa itself sparkled like finely crafted glass. To be allowed there was a rare honor.
“A wonderful gift for Vivian,” the Viscountess remarked.
“Indeed.”
The Fovert dinner had been a resounding success.
＊ ＊ ＊
The invitation arrived shortly after, reaching the estate in due course.
The carriage rattled along the unpaved road, and Vivian pressed her face to the window, determined not to miss a single passing view. Excitement shone in her expression.
Though she had walked these streets hundreds of times, the thrill was unlike anything before—she was heading toward the shrouded beauty of Lockeberg Castle.
On a clear summer morning, sunlight broke like crystal across the landscape.
“We have passed through the main gate of the estate.”
The carriage moved along tree-lined avenues, their leaves a vibrant green, leading toward the estate. At the end of the road awaited the expansive gardens and the glass-like splendor of Lockeberg’s summer villa.
Slowing to a halt, Vivian looked up at the villa, which seemed to stretch to the heavens, and gasped in awe.
Passing the vast gardens—far larger than those of the Viscount’s estate—Vivian let out a soft exclamation.
At the center stood a massive marble fountain, surrounded by meticulously sculpted gardens that were pleasing to the eye. Beyond the open gardens rose the grand, gleaming glass villa. The carriage stopped before the tall arched staircase leading to its entrance.
