Chapter 1.2

“Young Master, someone has come to see you.”

“Who?”

“She said her name is Solnia Heston… and that you would recognize her name.”

That was when Solnia Heston’s name first appeared.

He had just woken up and was staring incredulously at the pile of portraits his mother had left behind.

“Solnia Heston, you say?”

Luette doubted his ears. The soft-spoken name was unfamiliar.

“What is she doing here?”

Solnia Heston was not a complete stranger.

Her father, the late Earl of Heston, had been a close friend of the Duke of Trovill—Luette’s father. Their friendship had begun in their days at the Royal School and had a long history.

Because of this, Luette had occasionally met Solnia during his childhood. However, after the Earl and Countess of Heston perished in a fire ten years ago, their families had lost contact.

In other words, they were now practically strangers.

“Should I bring her in?”

“……”

“It seems improper to send her away after she came all this way. For a young lady to come here alone, she must have an important reason…”

That was true. The distance between Solnia’s mansion and Nutak Villa was considerable. It wasn’t the kind of place one would stop by casually. Nor were they close enough for such a visit.

“Bring her in.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Luette gave the order and then sank onto the sofa.

Through the wide-open window, he could see the cool, flowing river. The face of young Solnia Heston shimmered faintly on the water’s surface.

She had been a pale, delicate-looking girl. With her unique gray eyes inherited from her mother, she had been quite pretty, though not someone he could ever grow close to.

Unlike other children her age, who chattered endlessly, Solnia had been unusually quiet and mature. Like all girls, she had preferred kind and gentle boys—someone like Evan Ikleit.

Evan, the eldest son of the Ikleit Count Household, was kind, mature, and adept at saying all the right things. He had mastered the art of socializing at a young age.

Unlike Evan, Luette had been brusque, childish, and utterly clueless about saying anything pleasant. He and Solnia had never been close.

Her expression when she looked at him had been particularly memorable. The way she grimaced every time their eyes met…

‘Sorry, but if you’re going to practice sword fighting, could you do it in another room? As you can see, I’m reading, Luette Trovill.’

‘This is my house, you know.’

‘How terribly rude of you to treat a guest this way.’

He had been recalling the eight-year-old girl who mimicked the tone of a dignified old lady when—

“Excuse me.”

A calm voice interrupted his thoughts. When Luette turned his head without thinking, he found himself momentarily taken aback.

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to meet you since I came unannounced… but I’m glad.”

The woman standing before him was nothing like the prim little lady he remembered from ten years ago.

“How have you been?”

“……”

She looked like a deer grazing in a serene forest, untouched by the world.

Whew.  

He let out a small sigh of relief as his gaze, fixed on her lips, slowly traveled upward.  

When she removed her neatly tied bonnet, the face revealed beneath instantly captured his attention.  

The woman had a long neck and a small face. Her tiny face was well-proportioned with neatly placed features. Her almond-shaped eyes were large, and her gray irises shone even more vividly than before.  

Moreover, she exuded a calm aura.  

Though ten years was a long time, the unexpected meeting left Luette with such a strong first impression that he didn’t even consider the time gap.  

“Should I call you Lord Trovill?”  

The deer—or rather, Solnia Heston—asked.  

A brief silence followed.  

Luette, as if appraising an unexpected figure, stared at her, while Solnia blinked under his gaze.  

“It’s awkward, isn’t it? It’s been so long.”  

It was Solnia who broke the silence. She smiled faintly, and Luette doubted his eyes.  

Solnia Heston, smiling?  

In front of him, of all people.  

And to top it off, she was speaking to him so formally.  

The thought crossed his mind that perhaps her body had swapped souls with someone else in the time they hadn’t met.  

Solnia had once been a little lady who, despite being four years younger than him, called him “Luette Trovill” as if he were her subordinate.  

“It’s nothing. I was just a bit surprised.”  

“…”  

“It’s been a while. I’ve seen Alec from time to time, though.”  

Alec Heston, Solnia’s older brother, was now referred to as the Young Earl of Heston. Despite becoming the head of the family at a young age, he had grown into a respectable gentleman.  

“Yes. I heard about you from my brother.”  

“I see.”  

He didn’t know what had been said, nor did he care to ask. He had a strong feeling it wouldn’t have been anything good.  

“Please feel free to speak casually.”  

“I’ll pass.”  

He had no intention of doing so. After all, they weren’t on such friendly terms that they could speak informally after ten years.  

Another silence followed.  

Eventually, Luette broke it, unable to endure any longer.  

“What brings you here?”  

No matter what, he couldn’t bring himself to say he was glad to see her again. That wasn’t in his nature. He was the type who couldn’t lie even with a knife to his throat.  

And she was no different. She wasn’t saying things like, ‘It’s been so long! I’m so happy to see you! Ha-ha-ha.’

“I came to check in. I recently heard about you and wondered how you were doing.”  

Her calm tone was baffling enough, but her words were even more so.  

Solnia Heston, of all people, had come all this way because she was curious about his well-being? Perhaps she wanted to confirm he was still alive. He let out a hollow laugh.  

“I’ll prepare some tea.”  

The clinking sound of teacups briefly filled the room. Both of them watched the maid’s hands intently. The maid, suddenly under scrutiny, anxiously set the tea table and retreated. The silence that followed was deafening.  

Solnia eventually lifted her teacup. Her slender fingers stood out.  

Luette’s gaze followed those fingers up her arm, which seemed small enough to hold in one hand, and landed on her delicate face.  

Her complexion, even paler than before, struck him anew. She looked as if she’d never seen sunlight.  

“How is your health?”  

Luette belatedly asked after her well-being.  

The lack of contact between their two once-close families over the past ten years was partly due to Solnia’s health.  

During the villa fire, Solnia had been saved by her nanny and escaped serious injury, but the aftermath had been severe.  

Her lungs had weakened, and the trauma of the accident caused occasional seizures and fits.  

There were even rumors that Solnia suffered from an incurable mental illness. Some said that if it hadn’t been for Dowager Heston, she might not have survived.  

The story of how the Dowager raised Solnia like a flower in a greenhouse was well-known. It was said that she was so overprotective that she worried about blades of grass brushing against her or the wind carrying her away. Even walks were taken with caution.  

Perhaps that was why her unusually pale complexion made her look sickly.  

“Yes, I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”  

“That’s a relief.”  

Her emphasis on being ‘perfectly fine’ seemed oddly forceful, but still.  

The fruits of the Dowager’s dedication now sat before him. Perhaps Solnia’s flawless transformation into a proper lady was thanks to her grandmother’s tireless efforts.  

But now was not the time to admire the Dowager’s hard work.  

What mattered was why Solnia Heston, whom he hadn’t seen in ten years, had come all the way to this secluded villa deep in the mountains.  

He was certain of one thing.  

Solnia Heston was not the type of woman to travel this far just to inquire about his well-being.  

“Miss Solnia. If it’s not too forward, may I ask why you’ve come to see me?”  

At last, Solnia’s expression shifted slightly. She licked her lips nervously, as if to moisten them, and hastily sipped her tea.  

“I came because I have something to tell you.”  

I knew it.  

“I debated over and over whether it would be a bother, but I thought I’d regret it if I didn’t at least bring it up.”  

Her calm voice continued, still unfamiliar to him.  

Solnia carefully set her teacup down, placed her hands on her lap, and exhaled softly, as if to steady herself.  

“I don’t know if you remember, but there was once talk of a marriage between us.”  

“Marriage?”  

As soon as he repeated the word, the memory surfaced—buried deep in the recesses of his mind.  

The marriage discussion between Solnia and Luette had taken place over ten years ago.  

In truth, calling it a “discussion” was a stretch. It had been more of a joke between their parents.  

‘I don’t want to! I’ll marry another dashing gentleman!’  

Of course, that joke had made the mature little lady jump up and down in protest.  

That wasn’t all. One day, she had quietly summoned Luette to the garden.  

‘Listen carefully, Luette Carter Trovill. I have no intention of marrying you, I will never intend to marry you, and I will die without ever intending to marry you.’ 

‘Who said I wanted to marry—’  

‘I’m talking here.’ 

‘…’

‘Most of all, I… I…’  

What had she said again?  

In any case, it had been a joke that would never come to fruition. As the daughter of a prestigious family that had helped establish the kingdom, she could have even aimed for royalty.  

So why was that long-forgotten proposal being brought up now, in the study of the Nutak Villa, ten years later?