Chapter 17
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 17
Julie rushed toward the Sunset Room with light, hurried steps, where Grace awaited.
"Miss?"
Grace had been gazing blankly out the wide-open window when she startled at the sound, spinning around.
"Oh, Julie, you've arrived."
"What were you staring at so intently?"
"Hmm? Oh, no—I just felt strange, that's all."
Grace turned her gaze back toward the horizon where the sunset was descending.
Billowing clouds drifted overhead, and a few birds soared through the vast sky.
The landscape was peaceful and serene.
And it appeared utterly free.
Though it was nothing but barren wasteland.
That emptiness, devoid of all things, stirred something pleasant within me.
Grass swaying gently with the wind, unburdened and natural.
Wildflowers and weeds growing haphazardly in their own chaotic way.
An endless expanse of verdant earth stretching toward infinity.
"It truly is a beautiful place, isn't it?"
"Indeed."
A peculiar sensation washed over Grace.
Ordinarily, my days unfolded without incident or remarkable events—monotonous and unremarkable.
Yet this single week since meeting that man had been far more vibrant than the entire past year of my life.
Fleeing, pursuing, trembling with fear, laughing, then frightened once more.
And now, amid all this, I found myself waiting for dinner with him at his Estate.
"...Life is strange indeed."
Incomprehensible.
Grace, who had been gazing blankly at the sunset landscape, suddenly opened her eyes wide.
"Oh, that's right."
I cannot remain lost in thought like this!
Something she had forgotten suddenly came to mind.
* * *
"Hmm... I wonder if he might be disappointed."
Grace murmured worriedly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her neatly folded handkerchief.
As the dinner hour drew closer, her anxiety intensified at the thought of having no gift to present to Lucas Black.
In the end, she rummaged through her own bag and managed to find something.
It was a handkerchief.
Fortunately, the silk handkerchief she had washed the day before was pristine.
Yet no matter how she looked at it, it seemed too plain on its own, so she hastily sketched a drawing onto the handkerchief.
It was a portrait of a black horse—the emblem of the Black Family.
"It's sincere, and since you have such skill, he will surely admire it when he sees it."
"Don't you think it might look a bit like a child's scribbling?"
At Grace's uncertain words, Julie spoke with conviction.
"Not at all. Not in the slightest. What child could draw such a brilliant and elegant horse? A drawing of this caliber would fetch several hundred crus if you sold it anywhere. It's truly magnificent."
Grace laughed at Julie's affectionate yet somewhat exaggerated praise.
"In any case, you certainly have a talent for lifting people's spirits."
"If I may say so, it's my greatest talent."
Just as Grace was about to tell Julie that she possessed hundreds of other talents besides that one, someone knocked softly on the door.
"Grace, dinner is prepared. Will you come down with me?"
It was Lucas Black's voice.
Julie and Grace locked eyes and sprang to their feet.
Julie was busy making final adjustments to Grace's appearance, while Grace was flustered, uncertain what to do with the handkerchief in her hand.
"Grace, may I come in?"
"Yes, yes! Please, come in!"
In the end, Grace quickly tucked the neatly folded square into her pocket.
If only she had thought to bring a ribbon.
With a pang of regret, she quietly watched the door open.
Her taut nerves set her heart pounding once more.
Grace clenched her trembling fingers into fists to steady herself.
Soon, Julie rushed over and opened the door.
"Oh my!"
The moment the door swung open, Julie let out an involuntary cry of admiration at the sight before her.
Lucas, who had been partially obscured by the open door, stepped further inside.
Only then did Grace understand why Julie had gasped with such wonder.
"What is this...?"
"In truth, I had prepared it to give you the moment we arrived at the Estate, but since you came along, I missed the opportunity to present it."
Lucas approached Grace directly, holding an enormous bouquet of flowers.
Hyacinths of every hue dazzled Grace's eyes.
'Goodness, flowers and Lucas Black together.'
Grace doubted her own eyes.
Lucas held out the bouquet he carried in one hand toward Grace and spoke.
"Grace, thank you for accepting my invitation to our first meal together."
His voice was impossibly courteous, impossibly gentle.
His low murmur mingled with the dizzying sweetness of hyacinth fragrance that threatened to overwhelm her senses.
"Ah, I...."
Grace stared blankly at the bouquet cradled in her arms as it was presented to her.
Something felt strange.
She couldn't fathom that the terrifying Lucas Black had prepared this bouquet for her.
"As I thought. They're flowers that resemble your eye color quite perfectly."
As she accepted the bouquet, Lucas murmured with evident satisfaction. Though Grace's face disappeared into the flowers, there was nothing awkward about it.
'I chose well. As expected.'
He couldn't help but smile with quiet pride.
Seeing his smile, Grace felt even more lightheaded.
'What on earth is he doing?'
With her face buried in the fragrant bouquet, her cheeks flushed crimson.
'Could it be... does this man actually like me?'
...This was mere fantasy.
No, it had to be fantasy.
How could he harbor any affection for her after witnessing her father's rudeness?
Moreover, she had done nothing but make mistakes in front of him.
She had fainted, fallen, and even tackled him.
And yet this man had undressed her.
In exchange, he had earned her laughter.
"Do you... like them?"
...And now he was presenting her with flowers.
Watching Lucas carefully gauge her expression, Grace could only manage a look that was neither laughter nor tears.
Good heavens.
Had there ever been a man who watched her feelings so carefully?
No man had ever treated her with such consideration. None had ever paid attention to her moods.
'Something's wrong. This is strange. This is very strange. Why, why is this man...'
Grace's heart began to race abnormally.
Fluttering would have been a more accurate description.
Something overwhelmed her, made her heart surge, and caused a dull ache in one corner of her chest.
"Yes, I like them very much."
Grace gripped the bouquet with trembling fingertips as she looked at Lucas.
The man's face, smiling with evident relief, no longer seemed as frightening as before.
Only more confusing.
"Then, shall we go downstairs and have our meal?"
Lucas extended his hand with courteous formality.
A large hand, its calluses firmly embedded, awaited her.
"Yes."
'Can I... actually tell this man to break off our engagement?'
For the first time, Grace felt a flicker of uncertainty.
* * *
The dining table had been arranged outdoors on the Estate grounds.
In the center of a modest yet immaculate garden stood a tall stone platform, and ivy-wrapped columns created a romantic ambiance.
That wasn't all.
Along every path Lucas and Grace walked, dozens of soft candlelit flames flickered to life.
Grace stood utterly dumbfounded.
What on earth was all this?
And when had he prepared all of this?
As she walked down the flower and flame-adorned pathway, she found herself questioning whether she was truly on the right path.
It wasn't unpleasant, but rather...
'...excessive. Far too excessive.'
Anyone witnessing this perfectly overwhelming floral passage would think she was receiving a proposal.
At the far end, a foreign chef wearing a tall, broad-brimmed hat awaited them both.
"Welcome, you two. Good evening, magnificent lady!"
The chef, with dark hair and a neatly groomed triangular beard beneath his chin, greeted them with a formal bow.
He bent at the waist, extended one leg behind him, and raised his head with a flourish.
"I am Cotti Armong Larco Nerner La Denshra, the head chef of this Estate, and I have devoted my utmost care to preparing this beautiful meal for you both."
"Pleased to meet you, Cotti Armong Larco Nerner La... Denshra."
"Please, simply call me Cotti. Ah! In my homeland's accent, Cotti means 'beautiful man'—quite fitting, wouldn't you say?"
"...I beg your pardon?"
Grace faltered at the sudden declaration of his charming nickname.
Lucas let out a soft cough and gently restrained Cotti.
"Cotti. Enough."
"Hahahaha! It's been so long since I've welcomed guests—I fear I've become overly enthusiastic! My apologies. Now, please do enjoy the formal dinner I've so carefully prepared."
Cotti bowed with exaggerated flair, his posterior thrust back dramatically, before stepping away.
Grace chuckled softly at his theatrical gestures and gently settled into the chair Lucas pulled out for her.
Lucas took his seat across from her and received champagne that Cotti poured with elegant, cascading grace from an impressive height.
Cotti held the champagne bottle nearly a meter above the glass, yet not a single drop spilled as he poured with remarkable precision.
As she watched this amusing display, Grace suddenly turned to Lucas with an apologetic expression.
"Your Grace, I..."
"Speak freely, Grace."
The way he glanced up with that simple question made her suddenly aware of how strikingly handsome his face truly was.
He wasn't particularly expressive, and his dark brows and the scar on his jaw did create an intimidating presence, yet in the romantic glow of candlelight, even these features seemed mysteriously alluring.
'How can someone be both frightening and beautiful at once? That's terrifying in its own way.'
Grace suppressed an involuntary shiver and continued in a composed voice.
"You've extended such a formal invitation, yet I'm ashamed to admit I haven't prepared a proper gift in return."
"Ah! I didn't invite you in hopes of receiving a gift, Grace."
Lucas's expression stiffened as if he'd heard something entirely unexpected.
"No, it's only natural to repay kindness with kindness. Next time, I will...."
In that moment, Grace faltered mid-sentence.
'Next time? There will be a next time?'
Her mind was truly in turmoil.
Lucas observed Grace's hesitation and posed a question.
"Next time?"
"...You don't have a handkerchief?"
Rather than answer, Grace pointed directly at the empty pocket of his vest.
Lucas glanced down at his vacant pocket and nodded.
"I was so preoccupied with my necktie that I must have forgotten the pocket."
In that instant, a splendid idea occurred to Grace.
She lifted her head sharply to regard Lucas and asked.
"Then...would it be permissible for me to take a brief liberty with you?"
"Pardon?"
Grace rose abruptly and strode toward where Lucas stood.
Lucas watched her approach, and the moment she drew near, he rose from his seat.
The two of them stood facing each other, impossibly close.
She barely reached the end of his chest.
Despite her diminutive frame, Lucas felt an overwhelming presence emanating from her.
He was the one who had brought countless nobles to their knees for Ludwig, the current sovereign.
It astounded him that Grace could evoke such presence within him.
As he hesitated, Grace lifted her gaze slightly to meet his.
Her violet eyes, reflecting the dim light, gleamed with an ethereal mystery.
The moment Grace closed her dawn-sky eyes gently and smiled with shy tenderness, Lucas felt something heavy settle within his chest.
'...What is this?'
His heart's unfamiliar response left him pressing his lips firmly together, struggling to conceal his bewilderment.
In that instant, she extended her hand directly toward his chest—where that weight was settling.
Whether instinct had seized his mind or his foolish heart had surrendered to the moment.
Lucas found himself thinking he should catch her approaching hand and embrace her.
This small, fragrant form drawing near to him seemed to paralyze his reason entirely.
'Ah, is it permissible to embrace her?!'
Without realizing it, Lucas's face flushed with excitement as he spread both arms wide.
"Wait just a moment...."
But in that very instant.
Grace murmured something and inserted what she held into his chest pocket.
Lucas's outstretched arms froze mid-motion.
"This is my handkerchief.... I dyed it myself with pigment. It may be a humble scrap of cloth, but it's all I have to offer you at present."
"Ah."
The tips of Lucas's ears flushed a very faint, very subtle shade of crimson.
It was fortunate that Grace couldn't see his face as she busied herself arranging the handkerchief she'd tucked into her pocket.
Lucas gazed upward at the sky for a moment in that state, then closed his eyes.
He whispered quietly to himself.
'Ah... what a fool I am.'
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org