Chapter 4.4

Slap!  

The sound of her slap echoed in the air, overlapping with the sound of Viscountess Timberland clapping her hands.  

“We should prepare the bedroom instead of standing around like this. I can’t let my guests sleep in a cold room.”  

Viscountess Timberland looked as if she were preparing for some exciting party. Watching her with lingering traces of the past, Solnia instinctively turned to look at her husband.  

The shameless boy who had killed Naren without a hint of remorse or apology had now become her husband. It was an absurd and ironic twist of fate.  

Even more absurd was the fact that she had to share a room with him.  

Luette Trovill.  

***

While the maids from the Viscount Timberland household busily prepared the bedrooms to attend to their duties, the people split into men and women to spend their time separately. The men headed to the dining room early to enjoy their own time, while the women stayed in the living room drinking wine.

Perhaps it was the sound of the pouring rain and the intimacy of the confined space. The women, as if in their own homes, comfortably sipped their drinks, and their faces quickly turned red. At a glance, they were in a pleasantly drunken state.

“Anyway, he’s such a terrible man.”

The conversation, which had gone through greetings, recent news, and the affairs of other households, now began delving into more personal matters. 

Particularly, the Viscountess of Timberland seemed to have a lot to say. She expressed her resentment toward her husband’s father, the former Duke of Trovill, who was also Luette’s grandfather.

“How much favoritism must he have shown for my husband to go so far as to buy a title with money? He’s still a Trovill, after all.”

“Of course. Absolutely.”

“They’re only three years apart in age, you know.”

The Viscountess of Timberland, seemingly harboring many pent-up grievances, even pouted like a child. Perhaps because of her slurred speech from the alcohol, she didn’t seem intimidating.

Maybe that’s why Solnia watched the Viscountess, who was pouting and chattering away, as if observing some peculiar creature.

“That man never acknowledged my husband, even until his dying breath. Even on his deathbed. How could someone be so cruel?”

The Viscountess of Timberland shook her head as if in disbelief. Then, as if recalling something, she let out a slight chuckle.

“By now, he must be thoroughly angry up in heaven. That noble and esteemed title is about to fall into the hands of a wastrel. If he were alive, he’d be raising a ruckus with his cane…”

As she continued speaking with a bitter laugh, the Viscountess of Timberland suddenly noticed Solnia and clamped her mouth shut.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been…”

“It’s fine. But I think you should stop drinking now. You’ve had quite a bit.”

“But I’m not wrong, am I? You know it too, don’t you? About how scandalous Luette is.”

The Viscountess pointed toward the entrance of the living room where the men had disappeared.

“Wasn’t that the reason you didn’t respond to Luette’s unrequited love for so long? Isn’t that right?”

“Madam, perhaps you should have some water.”

“I’m fine! I’m not drunk!”

At last, the Viscountess swatted away the glass of water Solnia offered her, and then, unable to control her own arm’s momentum, she flopped onto the sofa.

“Oh my, oh my!”

“Are you alright, Viscountess?”

“……”

While the other two ladies, their cheeks equally flushed, repeatedly exclaimed, “Oh my, oh my!” Solnia looked down at the water stains on her clothes. What on earth was this madness?

“I’ve always been so curious. Why on earth did you accept such a scandalous man, Countess of Melfir? Sure, he’s ridiculously handsome, but good looks can’t cover up a filthy life! I think there must be another reason!”

What could it be? 

Solnia silently stared at the Viscountess, who lay sprawled out, yelling at her.

She had thought the Viscountess was the type of woman who prioritized building connections with the Dowager Madame over the ducal title that no longer belonged to her. 

Could it be that she now felt she had been too good to her? Was she trying to dig up something while drunk?

Well, they say even the most timid person becomes bold like a war hero when drunk. What’s flopping onto a sofa and pointing fingers compared to that?

“Madam! Do you truly love that man?”

“Of course.”

“Of course? Do you really love him? Why?”

“Because he’s handsome.”

Just as she firmly answered, as if to say, “That’s all there is to it,” the ladies who had been trying to restrain the Viscountess suddenly widened their eyes and stared at something.

Instinctively, Solnia closed her eyes tightly. She didn’t need to look to know. She could already tell who was standing behind her, where the ladies’ gazes were directed.

A few seconds of silence passed. It was broken by a low chuckle from behind her.

No way.

Solnia couldn’t bring herself to turn around.

It couldn’t be.

She couldn’t be sure if the soft chuckle, as if someone was in a good mood, belonged to Luette Trovill. She had never heard him laugh before.

So, Solnia convinced herself it must be someone else.

Who else but Luette Trovill would laugh at the situation that had just unfolded? Still, she had to believe it wasn’t him.

But the sound of footsteps, steadily approaching her, suggested otherwise.

Eventually, a hand rested on her frozen shoulder. She felt a slight weight. Solnia stiffly turned her gaze upward, barely moving her rigid neck.

“You could have said such compliments while looking at my face.”

“……”

The sight of him smiling at her made her feel as though even the tiniest trace of alcohol had evaporated from her system.

She had to admit it. Luette Trovill was indeed the kind of man whose appearance could make one nod in agreement, even when he brazenly uttered such words.

“You could have made your presence known.”

“You seemed to be having such an interesting conversation that I couldn’t interrupt.”

He said this with a smile that reached his eyes. For a moment, she thought he was handsome, but the smile seemed sly, perhaps due to her mood.

Then, he noticed the Viscountess sprawled on the opposite sofa and laughed again, just as he had earlier. A low laugh, resonating from deep within his throat…

“It seems my aunt is in high spirits.”

The Viscountess of Timberland, seemingly regaining some composure, staggered to her feet and tidied her disheveled appearance. Luette gestured for her to remain seated, as if to say she needn’t get up.

“Please, stay comfortable. I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”

“I just lost my balance for a moment.”

“Of course.”

The Viscountess squinted at Luette, seemingly displeased by his cheeky response, but he ignored her and focused on Solnia.

“Why are you drenched?”

“Oh, this is…”

“Countess, it seems you’re quite drunk. How about stepping out for some fresh air?”

Before Solnia could say anything, the Viscountess of Timberland hurriedly spoke.

“You two should take some time for yourselves.”

Despite the urgency in her voice, the Viscountess was now seated with the same elegance and poise she had displayed during the hunting grounds.

*

As soon as they descended the stairs to the first floor, Solnia spoke.

“I’m not drunk.”

“I know.”

Luette replied nonchalantly as he opened the front door.

“If anyone’s drunk, it’s the person suggesting a walk in this downpour.”

“……”

With his words, the sound of the pouring rain beyond the open door filled the air. The rain was still coming down heavily, even now, in the pitch-black night. 

Thanks to the lantern hanging under the eaves of the porch, the area around the villa was brightly lit.

‘I should have brought a cloak.’

Feeling the chilly air, she belatedly thought this but, instead of retreating, she walked along the deck leading to the back of the villa.

When she arrived at the back of the villa, Solnia smiled faintly.

They were still there. The two shabby wooden chairs.

The crude chairs were her father’s handiwork. A man who had never held a hammer in his life, her father had sweated profusely making these clumsy chairs for his daughter, who whined that she didn’t want to go to the hunting grounds.

As Solnia recalled her father clumsily wielding a hammer, a large figure suddenly plopped down on one of the chairs.

‘What a tactless man.’

Her face, which had been lost in nostalgia, crumpled instantly, but she had nothing to say. The chairs were no longer hers. It was a miracle they still existed.

Solnia adjusted her skirt and sat on the remaining chair. Of course, before sitting, she pulled the chair slightly outward to put some distance between herself and the tactless person.

The couple sat side by side, gazing at the torrential rain falling outside.

“Did aunt say anything in particular?”  

After staring silently at the dark scenery for a long time, Luette asked. Solnia nodded.  

“She seems to be prioritizing connections within the social circle for now.”  

“Connections?”  

“Yes.”  

Solnia briefly recounted the conversation from the tea time. Luette immediately furrowed his brow, his expression showing that he couldn’t understand the obsession with social connections.  

“She promised to take us to Grandmother’s banquet, so I don’t think she’ll threaten us for the time being. Unless, of course, she gets drunk like earlier.”  

“……”  

“Come to think of it, it’s a bit surprising. I didn’t expect her to reveal her true colors like that.”  

At those words, Luette let out a faint chuckle.