Chapter 2.4

A short while later, the Marquis and Marchioness left to mingle with other nobles to discuss business matters.  

“Lady Geranion, do you have a moment?”  

“Of course, Lady Feraton.”  

As soon as Erta was left alone, other noblewomen approached her as though they had been waiting for this moment.  

The one who spoke first was Lady Feraton, the daughter of Count Feraton.  

She was famously known as the woman who had run away from home to marry the man she loved.  

‘She’s about to marry Viscount Callowen, isn’t she?’ 

Perhaps because of this, the daughter of Viscount Callowen, her soon-to-be Sister-in-law, was also part of the group.  

In any case, since she was about to have the marriage she wanted, it was something worth celebrating.  

“I hope I’m not being rude, but I heard a rumor and wanted to ask you about it.” 

The eyes of Lady Feraton and the other noblewomen sparkled with curiosity. Erta immediately realized what they were eager to know.  

Such was the nature of high society. Gossip always spread faster than the truth, often reaching others before the person involved even knew.  

Erta herself had only just learned about it.  

“Is this related to me and the young lord of Ephelmar?”  

“Oh my! Then, could it be…!”  

“So the rumors are true!”  

The noblewomen squealed in excitement, their reactions bursting out instinctively.  

Erta smiled politely, intending to put an end to the speculation.  

“I’m not sure how the rumors started, but no formal discussions have taken place. We haven’t even met yet.  

“I don’t mind, but I’m worried that the young lord of Ephelmar might feel uncomfortable if he hears these rumors.”  

It was a subtle way of telling them to stop spreading rumors.  

“Oh, of course. Considering how remarkable the Duke and Duchess of Ephelmar are, we must be careful not to offend them.”  

Normally, when Erta hinted like this, others would shift the topic. However, perhaps because they had each had a glass or two of champagne, the noblewomen continued discussing the Duke of Ephelmar’s household.  

“That’s right. Their teachings are quite famous, aren’t they?”  

What kind of teachings could make even household education famous? 

It seemed Erta, who was slow to catch on to rumors, was the only one unaware.  

“The Duke and Duchess’s teachings are famous?”  

What could they possibly be?  

By now, Erta’s curiosity was piqued, and the topic naturally shifted from her marriage prospects to stories about the Duke of Ephelmar’s family.  

“I heard the Duke and Duchess emphasize three key values when raising the young lord.”  

“What are those three values?”  

Erta’s face lit up with curiosity. Lady Feraton was the first to answer.  

“To always remain humble.”  

The second value came from Lady Callowen, who was standing beside her.  

“To always be careful with one’s words and actions.”  

The final value was delivered simultaneously by both noblewomen, as though they had rehearsed it.  

“To maintain a pure body and avoid indulgence in pleasure.”  

‘What? Pure? Avoid pleasure?’  

The first and second values were understandable. They were essentially virtues expected of nobles. But the last one…!  

Erta felt her head spin.  

Not wanting to believe what she had just heard, she asked the noblewomen for confirmation.  

“Abstinence?”  

Please, let it not be true. 

That was her silent plea. But the response she received only deepened her despair.  

“That’s right. Among the three, avoiding pleasure—abstinence—is said to be the most important.”  

Of all things, the most important value was abstinence? 

Erta felt as though she might faint.  

But the noblewomen, unaware of her inner turmoil, mistook her reaction for admiration and continued to praise the young lord. 

“If it’s the young lord of Ephelmar, he’ll surely cherish and care for his wife.” 

“Yes, don’t you think he’ll treasure his wife deeply?”  

Cherish? Care for?  

Those words were the exact opposite of what Erta desired.  

Each time the noblewomen spoke of abstinence and self-restraint, their words turned into arrows that pierced Erta’s heart.  

‘No, it’s too early to jump to conclusions.’  

But that was merely the teaching of his parents, the Duke and Duchess. There was no guarantee that the young lord himself adhered to such principles, was there?  

Desperately clinging to a sliver of hope, Erta tried to calm herself.  

But then—  

“Since the young lord studied abroad in the Holy Kingdom, he must have returned even more virtuous and upright.”  

A bombshell of a statement obliterated her last remaining hope.  

“The Holy Kingdom?”  

The Holy Kingdom—wasn’t that the most abstinent and morally strict place in the entire world?  

The sheer weight of that revelation nearly caused Erta’s legs to give out beneath her.  

“Yes! The young lord of Ephelmar has just returned from his time in the Holy Kingdom. Don’t you think he must be as upright as a priest by now?”  

Had it been such a grave mistake to hope he had studied in a country more liberal than the Empire?  

‘If he studied in the Holy Kingdom, he must not only have followed his parents’ teachings but also fully embraced abstinence.’  

Even the faint hope that he might not practice what his parents preached was now utterly shattered.  

“In fact, everyone was curious about who would become the new Duchess of Ephelmar.”  

“It’s hard to find a groom as impressive as the young lord of Ephelmar among the men of marriageable age.” 

“Considering it’s the Ducal family, I thought his bride would at least be the daughter of an Earl.”  

“But to think the match would be with Lady Geranion! I’m so delighted.”  

“Don’t you think they make the most perfect pair in the Empire?”  

The noblewoman’s praise flowed endlessly.  

Unfortunately, none of their words reached Erta’s ears.  

‘He’s the worst possible marriage prospect.’  

A perfect groom? It would have been laughable if it weren’t so painful. Internally, Erta shed bitter tears.  

She had only hoped for a man with a bit of looseness in his morals, but instead, she was faced with an abstinent one.  

If she married such a man, their married life would undoubtedly be dull—no, utterly dry. She even doubted if he would be able to undress her properly on their wedding night, let alone tear her clothes off in passion.  

This was a marriage proposal that had to proceed for her parents’ sake. On the surface, there was nothing wrong with the match.  

But even so, how could she go along with it when she was this reluctant?  

Until just moments ago, before hearing the noblewomen’s conversation, Erta had thought she might as well follow her parents’ suggestion and at least exchange a few words with Reitan Ephelmar at today’s banquet.  

‘But now, I absolutely do not want to face him today.’ 

At this point, there was no way she could bring herself to talk to him. Nothing good would come out of her mouth if she did in her current state.  

She was certain of that.  

But today seemed to be one of those days when nothing went her way.  

Perhaps it was because she had retreated to a corner to sip champagne alone in an attempt to calm her troubled mind.  

“Lady, is something troubling you today?”  

A soft, melodious voice approached her as she nursed her uneasy thoughts.  

It was a gentle tone, unfamiliar yet oddly not entirely strange.  

‘Why does it feel like I’ve heard this voice somewhere before? How strange.’  

Did all young men these days have such similar tones?  

Hiding her curiosity, Erta turned her head toward the direction of the voice.  

“Did my expression look that bad? I was just lost in thought for a moment, that’s all.”  

Erta replied casually.  

The man she locked eyes with had strikingly handsome features.  

His high-bridged nose stood out against his sharp, defined facial features, complemented by wide, expressive eyes and a chiseled jawline. His neatly groomed blonde hair gave him a clean and polished appearance.  

Dressed impeccably in a pristine white uniform that reached up to his neck, he could easily be mistaken for a priest.  

Erta couldn’t recall ever hearing of a nobleman her age who looked this good.  

‘Is he not an imperial noble?’  

That might be the case. After all, the Empress’s birthday celebration had drawn high-ranking officials and foreign nobility alike.  

For a brief moment, curiosity stirred within her, but that was all. She felt no particular interest in the man.  

‘How unusual. A man actually approached me to talk.’  

That was the extent of her thoughts. It had been quite some time since a man had initiated a conversation with her. Recently, there had been almost no men who dared approach her.  

Thinking about it, the man seemed even less likely to be a citizen of the Empire.  

“Is that so? You seemed troubled, so I couldn’t help but wonder. I wanted to hear your story.”  

“But really, there’s nothing troubling me.”  

“That’s even better to hear. Since we’ve met like this, why don’t we share a drink together?”  

Even though Erta had subtly expressed her disinterest in continuing the conversation, the man extended his champagne glass toward her.  

Was he oblivious to social cues? 

Though she felt a twinge of annoyance, there was no real reason to refuse.  

After all, his suggestion was nothing more than lightly clinking glasses, something simple and harmless. 

“All right, then.”  

That such a small request felt bothersome to her was enough for Erta to diagnose herself as being in a poor state of mind. She nodded lightly and brought her glass toward his.  

But then, something unexpected happened.  

Drip—  

“Ah—”  

“Ah.”  

Both of them let out short gasps simultaneously.  

Cold champagne spilled down Erta’s hand. It had come from the man’s glass.  

The new lace gloves she had just acquired were now soaked, clinging unpleasantly to her skin.  

“My deepest apologies, Lady. Are you all right?”  

The man, clearly flustered, offered her a polite apology.  

“I must have been so nervous in the presence of such a beautiful lady that my grip faltered.”  

He explained that his hand had momentarily lost its strength, causing the mishap. He fumbled around his chest pocket, seemingly searching for a handkerchief.  

But unfortunately, it appeared he didn’t have even a small scrap of cloth on him.  

His face, marked with embarrassment, reflected his sincere regret as he repeatedly apologized. 

 “I should at least offer you something to clean up with. I’m truly sorry.”  

“It’s fine. It’s not as if you did it on purpose.” 

 Erta hid her displeasure behind a composed expression and shook her head.  

The man had apologized profusely, and refusing to accept such an apology would have been discourteous.  

Still, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed and exhausted. All she wanted was to leave the situation behind as quickly as possible.  

After all, she was planning to return to her estate soon, so this could just be considered a minor incident.  

But once again, something unexpected happened.  

“It must feel uncomfortable with you wet and soaked like that. Why don’t you take them off?”  

The man spoke before Erta could excuse herself.  

“What?” 

“I just thought it might be more comfortable for you.” 

He said, his tone polite and seemingly innocent.  

That single sentence stopped Erta in her tracks.  

‘Wait a moment. His words…’  

The man’s statement sounded strange. Of course, he must have meant for her to remove her gloves, but the nuance seemed oddly ambiguous.  

‘Am I the one being improper here?’  

Erta quickly concluded that the issue lay with her own thoughts.