Chapter 4.10

A girl who had barged into the storage room where he used to hide, at about the same time of day.

‘Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here.’

‘Leave.’

‘I will. But is this your room?’

‘…….’

‘You have a unique taste in décor.’

With a small, adorable face and an adult-like way of speaking…

Solnia Heston.

With a soft chuckle, Luette’s pencil, which had been idle for some time, began to move.

He was so pleased with the resulting painting that he completed it with color upon arriving in Puglish.

That painting…

‘You clearly don’t know what paintings are in that room.’

His wife’s confident voice echoed in his mind.

‘If you did, you wouldn’t be able to say you cherish them.’

*

The next morning, Solnia raised her eyebrows at the unexpected sight in the dining room.

“Did you sleep well, Madam?”

Luette Trovill, with his insincere smile, was not someone she wanted to see first thing in the morning.

“Of course. Good morning.”

Still, returning a smile wasn’t difficult.

The couple sat at opposite ends of the long dining table as the servants began bringing in the prepared food.

“It’s nice to see the two of you having breakfast together.” 

The butler remarked, dismissing the servants and closing the dining room door behind him.

Only after the butler left did Solnia speak.

“Have you thought about it?”

There must have been a reason she appeared in the dining room so early.

Sure enough, Luette nodded lightly.

“I’ve selected two paintings for the bazaar. Philip will prepare them.”

“Which paintings?”

“Hughes Schofield and Gustav Rotte’s works. Both are artists favored by the royal family, so they should be well-received.”

Solnia nodded and picked up her cutlery.

Luette stared at her face. Perhaps it was because he had seen her portrait last night, but he found himself unconsciously studying her familiar features.

“Why did you paint me?”

The question came out of nowhere. She wasn’t even looking at him when she asked, but Luette felt as though he had been stabbed.

“I assumed you went into that room since you said you’d chosen the paintings yourself.”

“…….”

“And among the paintings you supposedly created, I found a portrait of myself. So I’m asking—why did you paint me?”

Throughout her question, Solnia never once looked up.

She regretted speaking the moment she did.

From the moment she discovered that painting, she had been unbearably curious, but for some reason, she felt a pang of regret as soon as the words left her mouth.

She had added a rambling explanation, but that made her even more reluctant to look at him. She had no idea what expression he might be wearing as he looked at her.

The silence dragged on. It dragged on far too long.

She stirred her salad aimlessly with her fork, worried even the sound of her swallowing might be audible.

“Just because.”

The answer, when it finally came, was so nonchalant.

“I had run out of things to paint.”

“…….”

It was so nonchalant that it felt dry.

“I see.”

Solnia let out a faint laugh. 

What on earth had I been thinking?

*

An unexpected letter arrived that noon.

“Madam, here’s the mail.”

“Again?”

“Yes, Madam.”

Angie handed over the newly delivered mail with an apologetic look.

It wasn’t unwarranted. Solnia’s desk was already overflowing with invitations.

The news that a couple who had married under much public scrutiny was staying in the capital to enjoy the social season had caused a flood of invitations.

The social season had just begun, and invitations were pouring in endlessly.  

Solnia was sorting through the invitations, dividing them into those she must attend and those she could skip, and further categorizing the must-attend ones by priority.  

“I feel like I’ve given you more work.”  

“No, it’s fine. Hand them over.”  

Putting aside the letters she was sorting, Solnia began reviewing the mail Angie handed her.  

An invitation to a yacht party from Viscount Alastair—rejected.  

An invitation to a garden party from Madame Gibson—rejected.  

A recommendation to attend Unpium by the Crown Prince—what kind of recommendation is that? On hold.  

An invitation to a tea time from Countess Moulton—Moul…  

“Moulton?”  

Solnia, about to pass over the letter, focused on the envelope again.  

Countess Moulton.  

A member of the Dowager Madame’s salon and the hostess of one of the most powerful families.  

Recalling the dignified presence of Countess Moulton at the Dowager Madame’s birthday party, Solnia opened the envelope without hesitation.  

「Dear Countess of Melfir,  

The days are becoming noticeably warmer, signaling that summer is fast approaching. With the arrival of awaited guests, this year’s summer in the capital will surely be more beautiful than ever.  

How are you finding life in the capital? I hope it is filled with joy.」  

Despite her dignified appearance, her writing was as soft as silk. Imagining Countess Moulton reading the letter aloud, Solnia shuddered briefly before focusing back on the letter.  

「It would be a great honor for us if you could join us for a tea time at noon in the coming days. I would love to hear your thoughts on the upcoming charity bazaar.」  

Solnia stared at the air for a moment after reading the letter.  

Summarized in one sentence, the long, beautifully written letter essentially meant:  

‘Shall we meet?’

Despite being the granddaughter of the esteemed Heston Dowager Madame, Solnia had never officially debuted in the capital’s social circles.  

Nobles who had followed the proper “debut procedures” often looked down on women who hadn’t.  

Moreover, Countess Moulton, despite being married, had held the title of the social queen until just two years ago.  

There was no way she would welcome Solnia, who occasionally made headlines with her sudden appearances, with open arms.  

“Phew…”  

Solnia let out a deep sigh and picked up her pen. Since she had decided to stay in the capital, avoiding the salon members was impossible.  

It was inevitable.  

*

A few days later, on a clear day with no clouds in sight, Solnia stepped out of her bedroom dressed neatly.  

Her dark navy dress, cinched tightly at the waist, looked plain at first glance, but that was precisely why it was perfect.  

For her first formal meeting with the salon members she had only briefly encountered twice before, a modest impression was essential.  

Solnia recalled the fleeting moments she had shared with them at the Dowager Madame’s birthday party.  

‘It’s been a while, Countess of Melfir.’ 

With her signature cold smile, Countess Moulton had briefly scanned Solnia before turning away without saying anything further. It was probably because of that bold dress she had worn.  

The other members following Countess Moulton had either shaken their heads or covered their lips with fans, whispering among themselves.  

Usually, whispers behind fans weren’t flattering.  

‘I’d like to let them think whatever they want, but…’  

Solnia bit her lip. She truly wanted to let it go, but now wasn’t the time.  

Having decided to stay in the capital, Solnia needed a good reputation. A reputation strong enough that even if strange rumors arose, people would dismiss them, saying, “The Countess of Melfir would never.”  

Not knowing how the Dowager Madame might use her, Solnia had to prepare herself as much as possible, and a good reputation was part of that preparation.  

“You’re heading out early.”  

Just as she was about to leave the townhouse, a voice called out from behind.  

Turning her head, she saw Luette Trovill, looking disheveled as though he had just woken up.  

His thick black hair, swept back, revealed a face that looked quite tired. Solnia, staring at him unconsciously, quickly turned her head when their eyes met.  

At some point, making eye contact with him had become uncomfortable. Even brief encounters that she used to dismiss as trivial now felt so awkward that she avoided them. She didn’t know why. It just…  

“Are you going to Moulton’s?”  

His voice, deeper than usual, sounded much closer. Solnia turned back to face him.  

Of course, her gaze skillfully avoided his handsome face.  

“Yes. I have a tea time appointment with the Countess. How did you know?”  

“Is there anything about you that I don’t know?”  

He spoke nonchalantly and lightly brushed off her shoulder, though nothing had been on it.  

The servants standing behind them watched the seemingly affectionate moment between their master and mistress with smiles of satisfaction.  

“Are you staying home?”  

“I’ll be stepping out briefly but will return soon. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you for dinner due to work piling up.”  

“Oh, I see.”  

“I apologize for not being able to share meals with you more often.”  

He talked as though he cared about whether she ate or not. If his life had been just a bit more challenging, he might have become a con artist who could deceive the entire nation.  

“I’m disappointed, but it can’t be helped. See you later.”  

At Solnia’s words, Luette smiled and agreed. Solnia’s eyes, which had avoided his, curved into crescent shapes in response.  

Of course, they wouldn’t see each other later.