“Ah….”

It went without saying that Irina was not attending today’s event alone.

After all, it was the Duke of Winfried whom Viscount Percy had invited, not Irina.

While Irina reached out in alarm, the duke leisurely picked up the bonnet and brushed away the dust with his gloved hand.

“…Thank you.”

Silently, Irina accepted the bonnet he held out to her, taking it with both hands.

She tried to put it on as the Viscountess had done, but it was not easy — perhaps because she was flustered.

Her hair kept catching on the decorative flowers inside, and no matter what she did, the pink ribbons ended up tied crookedly.

After taking the bonnet off and putting it back on several times, her beautifully arranged hair became increasingly disheveled.

“Why won’t this work?”

Irina focused on fixing her bonnet, breaking out in a cold sweat as she did so.

She felt as though she might cry.

Just then, a white-gloved hand reached out to her once more.

Leaning towards her, Winfried took the bonnet from her again.

“Hold still.”

Irina froze when he drew closer than she had expected.

Winfried carefully smoothed the disheveled hair at the side of her head and tucked it behind her ear before placing the bonnet on her head, making sure that no strands were caught.

Next came the pink ribbons that had caused Irina so much trouble.

They wound between his long, firm fingers, but kept coming undone.

Finding the bow more difficult to tie than expected, the duke frowned and pressed his lips into a straight line.

“…….”

Irina stared at him from only a few inches away.

Her gaze settled on his eyes, hidden beneath his dark eyebrows.

His crimson eyes were fixed intently on the ribbons.

Merely watching him made her feel restless; she repeatedly clenched and relaxed her hands, which were resting on the carriage seat.

“I believe that should do it.”

After what seemed like a long time, Winfried straightened and leaned back.

He checked the bow once more before asking,

“Do you have a mirror?”

“Ah, yes!”

Irina nodded, but a little too late.

She took a palm-sized mirror from the small bag Delphia had packed for her and examined herself from several angles.

The pink bow was not as neat as the one the Viscountess of Helpriton had tied earlier.

It was slightly crooked, with one loop larger than the other.

Even so, Irina liked it.

In fact, it was far neater and prettier than anything she could have tied herself.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Irina smiled brightly.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

No answer came.

The duke merely acknowledged her gratitude with a slight nod.

Silence settled between them once more.

Afraid she might accidentally loosen the ribbons again, Irina merely fidgeted with her hands.

“Viscount Percy usually holds his donation gala for more than two weeks.”

Winfried, who had been resting his head against the carriage wall, suddenly spoke.

“……?”

His words made no sense to her.

Why had he suddenly mentioned that the donation gala lasted over two weeks?

Did he mean that they would have to attend for a fortnight?

Irina merely stared at Winfried and blinked.

“What I mean is….”

Realizing that his explanation had been insufficient, Winfried brushed a hand over his mouth.

“There won’t be many guests today. The gala began several days ago. And I’ll be there with you.”

She understood what he was trying to say.

Irina let out a soft laugh.

“Yes. I’ll try not to be too nervous.”

Once again, Winfried merely nodded instead of answering.

However, his expression had changed ever so slightly.

“But, Your Grace….”

Winfried looked at her, silently prompting her to continue.

“I heard this will also be your first official social appearance since returning to the capital. Is that true?”

Delphia and Rio had certainly told her as much.

The Duke of Winfried had never returned to the capital during the war, so this would be his first official engagement.

“Are you… not nervous?”

Perhaps the duke felt much the same way.

Although he appeared calm, maybe he was also worrying about what he would say to everyone he met.

However, the answer the Duke of Winfried gave was not what Irina had hoped to hear.

“Not particularly.”

Resting his head against the carriage wall, he blinked slowly.

His eyes looked weary.

“After all, they are not trying to kill me.”

***

“Welcome, Your Grace the Duke of Winfried!”

The moment they stepped out of the carriage, a stout man emerged from the manor.

Dressed in a brown striped waistcoat and jacket, the man bowed respectfully before the duke and Irina.

“Thank you for coming.”

“It has been a long time, Viscount. When it was you who sent the invitation, how could I possibly decline?”

In contrast, the duke merely inclined his head slightly.

Yet that appeared more than sufficient, for Viscount Percy smiled broadly, his plump cheeks lifting.

“I am delighted to hear you say that, Your Grace. But the lady beside you is….”

Viscount Percy’s gaze shifted towards Irina, who was standing a step behind the Duke of Winfried.

It was time for her to introduce herself.

She parted her lips.

But perhaps because it was her first time meeting someone outside the estate, the greeting she had practiced so diligently would not come to mind.

It was as though fog had clouded her mind.

“This is Lady Irina Leonid, the daughter of Count Leonid. She is accompanying me today.”

The Duke of Winfried introduced Irina naturally and guided her to stand beside him.

“As you know, I owe Count and Countess Leonid a tremendous debt.”

“Ah, of course!”

The viscount nodded and gave Irina a warm, amiable smile.

“So you are Lady Leonid. Thank you for attending my donation gala. I am Llewell Percy.”

“Th-Thank you for inviting me. I am Irina Leonid.”

Just as she had been taught, Irina grasped her skirts and performed a shallow curtsy.

Did it look strange?

When she glanced cautiously at the viscount, he did not seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Although she had only exchanged greetings, she felt as though she had overcome a tremendous hurdle.

Her confidence began to grow.

“I had no idea House Leonid had such a beautiful young lady.”

The viscount laughed heartily.

“When Your Grace donated several excellent paintings, I thought it was because you were particularly fond of me. But it seems you merely contributed Lady Leonid’s share as well. It appears I was thoroughly mistaken. Hahaha!”

Stroking the curled ends of his beard, Viscount Percy continued,

“In any case, I believe I may finally defeat Countess Frances this time. It is all thanks to Your Grace.”

“That is a name I have not heard in some time. Is the countess well?”

“Of course! I hear she is as spirited as ever, traveling about and performing charitable work. No matter how often I see her, I am always humbled by how much I have to learn from her.”

The viscount smiled.

“If you require a guide, I would be happy to show you around. What do you say?”

“That will not be necessary.”

Winfried lightly declined the viscount’s offer.

His gaze shifted toward one side of the room.

“I believe it would be better for you to attend to those who need you more than we do.”

“Ah.”

Viscount Percy nodded.

Several people appeared to be searching for their host.

“If you wish to purchase a painting, simply write down your offer on the paper beneath it and place it inside the box. Please call for me at any time if you need anything.”

Remaining courteous to the very end, the viscount departed to meet those who had called for him.

“Shall we?”

Just as he had done at the Winfried estate, Logan offered Irina his arm.

When she gently took it, he began walking.

As Viscount Percy had said, there were paintings hanging across the walls, each with a small wooden box placed beneath it.

‘There are paintings I recognize and others I don’t.’

Irina slowly examined the paintings, turning her head this way and that.

‘How fascinating….’

All she had done was read a few books and have simple conversations with the Viscountess.

And yet, she could now see things that had once been invisible to her.

Whether or not she recognized a painting, she could find something within it and interpret it in her own way.

She, who had once been unable to read, write or count, was now appreciating art.

This realization felt utterly wondrous, and a soft smile spread across Irina’s face.

Moreover, the Duke had been right when he said there wouldn’t be many people.

As they admired the paintings displayed along the long corridor and in one of the rooms, they encountered only five or six other visitors.

However, something felt strange.

‘What is it?’

Every person they encountered stole glances at her.

‘Again?’

A married couple who had just passed them had also pretended to continue on their way, only to turn back immediately and whisper while looking at Irina and the duke.

“Good heavens. Even so, this is simply….”

“Precisely. How could he possibly…. Ahem!”

The moment their eyes met, the couple hurriedly looked away and disappeared at a rapid pace.

‘…Is there something strange about me?’

Everyone they passed reacted in the same manner.

The dark thoughts she had barely managed to suppress began creeping back.

‘Is my posture awkward?’

Did she seem overly excited when she looked at the paintings?

Or did she emit a strange smell?

She didn’t know why.

But it seemed that there was something about her that others could criticise.

“…….”

Once her anxiety had taken hold, she could no longer see the paintings.

Her vision narrowed and, whenever someone passed by, her ears pricked up, straining to catch their whispers.

She felt as though everyone at the donation gala was mocking and insulting her.

Irina’s breathing quickened.

The vile, insinuating words she had heard in the past resurfaced, clawing their way through her memories.