“Um, Matilda, where did the newspaper go?”

Vivianne carefully asked Matilda, who brushed her hair in front of the mirror.

“Ah, that…”

The question proved awkward to answer.

After Kian left for the imperial palace, Vivianne diligently checked the newspaper every day.

Though she didn’t know many letters yet, she searched only for Kian’s name among the print, but it meant everything to her.

The newspaper did contain an article about Kian, but its content wasn’t particularly pleasant. It included gossip about Duke Larson asking Viscount Steward’s daughter to dance.

“Is something wrong, Matilda?”

Unaware of the situation, she kept tilting her head in confusion.

“No. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing like that.”

“Your expression suddenly changed, so I was surprised. Did the newspaper not mention Kian receiving his medal?”

The article brimmed with suggestive speculations about spring finally blooming in their relationship and marriage looming on the horizon.

Better to hide it for now – Vivianne would surely be upset knowing this.

“…Well, I’m not sure. But why do you ask, Vivi?”

“I wanted to cut it out and save it. As a memento.”

Her devotion ran deep, perhaps too deep.

She preciously collected even trivial things from her master – empty shoe boxes, chocolate wrappers, anything he touched.

She had collected newspapers mentioning his medal ceremony, so today’s paper would naturally join Vivianne’s collection.

But the article’s content posed a problem. Of all things, it celebrated his flourishing relationship with his fiancée. True or not, Vivianne shouldn’t see this.

This called for a white lie.

“I’m sorry, Vivi. I accidentally lost it while bringing it to the room.”

“Hmm. I see.”

Vivianne accepted it with surprising ease.

“Then there’s nothing we can do.”

She wouldn’t probe further, thankfully. Matilda secretly sighed in relief while tying a pretty ribbon to complete the high ponytail. The cute style now looked perfect.

Vivianne’s clean neckline reminded Matilda how long the master had been away from the mansion.

“Are you doing well with your lessons, Vivi?”

“Yes. I’m glad to have something to focus on. Otherwise, I’d keep thinking about Kian.”

“You say you like the master so much, but then you say that’s not good?”

“Yes. It feels like I’m the only one feeling this way. It makes me feel resentful.”

“Resentful?”

This strong expression seemed unusual. Matilda pressed on, intrigued by this sulky Vivianne.

“I asked when he’s coming back, but he wouldn’t tell me. And I have to keep asking where he’s going before he reluctantly tells me. Isn’t that mean?”

“The master isn’t exactly a kind person, is he?”

When Matilda subtly took her side, a playful smile crossed Vivianne’s face.

“Kian says he likes that I wait for him desperately. He seems to enjoy tormenting me. Isn’t that strange? Why does he do that?”

Genuine upset tinged her voice.

Somehow, Matilda seemed to grasp the reason alone.

“Well, men tend to have somewhat childish sides to them. Like young boys, they often tease the girls they like.”

“Why torment someone they like?”

Though Matilda meant it lightheartedly, Vivianne remained unconvinced.

Of course, such contradictory behavior had one simple explanation.

“To get attention.”

The person involved might not realize it. That’s something only others can see.

* * *

Though she had originally planned one visit, she couldn’t miss such an entertaining spectacle.

Countess Spencer visited the Duke of Larson’s woman, her expression brighter than before.

“I’ve prepared a special gift for Vivianne. Since this will probably be our last lesson.”

“Already?”

Poor thing. This foolishly innocent lady remained blind to her fate.

A mistress resembled a candle in the wind. Women taken in by unmarried nobles vanished particularly quickly, forgotten by all.

Either way, it meant nothing to her. Those who enjoyed luxuries beyond their station always met miserable ends.

“And as a woman, I’d like to give you some advice.”

“Yes. Please tell me.”

Vivianne adjusted her quill pen to take notes.

Did she truly believe this benefited her? Countess Spencer laughed derisively at this absurd sight.

“You might feel loved by the Duke now, but that won’t last long. It’s like wearing clothes that don’t fit you. So come to your senses now and find a man who suits you.”

“…Why are you saying such cruel things to me?”

“I see you haven’t read the newspaper yet. Here, I brought it, expecting this.”

She held out the newspaper with an air of generosity.

Kian von Larson.

The newspaper displayed Kian’s name clearly.

She had wanted to find it anyway. Why did the Countess speak so ominously? Could bad news lurk within?

“Since you seem unable to read, shall I tell you myself?”

“Yes.”

“At the imperial palace ball, the Duke danced a waltz intimately with his fiancée. It says we can expect good news from the couple soon. That’s what it says.”

“…”

Could this woman speak the truth? Vivianne stared at the article containing Kian’s name, her gaze lowered.

She recalled how awkwardly Matilda had evaded questions about the newspaper.

“My goal is breaking off the engagement, not marriage. If you’re going to care about my engagement, Vivi, I want you to understand that first.”

This contradicted Kian’s words. Her heart sank.

Yet she refused to let others see her faith waver.

“If you don’t believe me, take this and ask anyone. See if I’m lying.”

“…”

“Looking at this, you really don’t understand relationships between men and women. I’m telling you this because I have a daughter about your age and I’m especially considering your situation. Please take my words to heart.”

“…I appreciate your concern, but.”

Vivianne tightly clenched her cold fingertips.

“I’ll ask Kian about this myself.”

“How naive.”

Pure mockery colored her tone.

“What good would asking directly do?”

“What?”

“Of course he’ll deny it and try to temporarily smooth things over. The Duke must find your whining quite bothersome. All noble men share this trait.”

The word ‘bothersome’ pierced her heart. She remembered their lunch together, when she first asked about his destination and return date.

When she deliberately pressed him with questions, he had criticized her excessive chatter.

“Look at the essence, not just what’s right in front of you, Vivianne.”

She regarded her with utmost pity. Though upset, Vivianne refused to show intimidation.

“So, that essence you’re talking about is Kian’s heart.”

Vivianne released a soft sigh and met Countess Spencer’s gaze.

“As you said, even if it’s a lie, that’s for me to deal with.”

“I see. Then do as you please. In any case, I’ll continue to support your future.”

Her expression showed complete resignation. Countess Spencer shook her head and placed her box on the table.

“I won’t charge for the lessons, so don’t worry about that. I’ll take my leave now.”

After she left, Vivianne stood alone in the empty room.

To dump all that on her and leave a gift – something strange must lie within.

After standing dazed briefly, Vivianne slowly opened the box Countess Spencer had left.

“…”

Inside lay lingerie that barely qualified as clothing. The outrageous garment made her blush at the mere thought of wearing it.

To call this a gift revealed what she thought suited someone like her.

Such cruelty served no purpose.

Malice had driven her from the start. Vivianne felt foolish for thinking she could learn anything worthwhile.

Primitive disgust washed over her. Vivianne roughly untied the gift box ribbon. She had heard newspapers conveyed world news. Would others also think Kian planned to marry his fiancée?

What would become of her if Kian married that woman? A distant fear gripped her. No – rather than fear, helplessness overwhelmed her.

Making another’s actions the measure of happiness – what a powerless, unhappy existence.

She felt foolish for letting Kian’s actions toss her about like seaweed in waves.

Suddenly, she yearned to act independently.

Yes. A walk.

First, she needed to step outside and walk.

They say pretty things lift the spirits when feeling down. Vivianne impulsively put on high-heeled shoes.