Chapter 1.1 – The Duke and the Heiress

A guest of noble status had arrived.

Upon hearing the message, Alexa immediately rose from her chair. Exiting the conference room on the third floor, she hurriedly slipped down the spiral staircase at the center of the department store, passing through the staff-only corridor. It was one of those afternoons when the spring sunlight pouring in through the domed glass ceiling seemed especially bright.

At the center of the second-floor staircase, the department store’s general supervisor was waiting. Upon seeing Alexa, he wore a troubled expression. As they headed together toward the glove shop on the first floor, Alexa asked curiously,

“Are you sure you didn’t see wrong?”

“It’s him. One of the employees overheard the young noblewoman who arrived with him call the gentleman ‘Duke Belsmire’.”

Even the veteran supervisor, with over twenty years of experience, couldn’t hide his nervousness at the Duke’s appearance. It was understandable. The man they had to receive today was described as the youngest and wealthiest nobleman.

“That’s ridiculous. He’s not the type to come to a place like this.”

“Perhaps His Grace the Duke came to see you, Miss Winterbourne…”

“Absolutely not.”

Alexa cut off the supervisor’s words firmly before he could finish.

“The last time I saw that man, I was fifteen. Now I’m twenty-three. We haven’t exchanged a single letter in all those years.”

As they descended to the first floor, her heart began pounding faster. Alexa forced a calm smile, trying to ignore the fact.

“At this point, isn’t it fair to say we’re complete strangers?”

“That’s true, but…”

Sensing the complexity of the situation, the supervisor fell silent with a serious face.

Entering the area where the miscellaneous goods shops were clustered, curious glances flew from all directions. The employees behind the display counters looked expectant, hoping for something exciting to happen. When the supervisor gave a subtle signal with his thick eyebrows, they pretended to busy themselves—wiping the displays or adjusting the name tags on their uniforms.

But Alexa knew. Today’s visit by Duke Belsmire would be passed from mouth to mouth for at least a month, with the story twisted out of proportion. Her name would likely be mentioned as well.

“The young lady of the count’s household requested the highest-ranking person, so I’ll wait here.”

Just a few more steps would take her to the glove shop, but the supervisor wisely stopped walking. Seeing the silhouette of a tall man beyond the pillar, Alexa bit her lip.

She would have to face Duke Belsmire, who had come as a customer, without anyone’s help. It felt as if she were standing on the deck of a ship caught in a storm. Reading the despair on her face, the supervisor spoke cautiously.

“Just think of him as an ordinary customer. The owner is confident you’ll handle this, Miss Winterbourne.”

The owner of the department store, Harrison Winterbourne, was Alexa’s adoptive father. Generously, he had entrusted Alexa with running the department store several years ago. Alexa loved Everhart, having grown up on her late mother’s dreams, and she was proud of her current role. She didn’t want to disappoint the father who trusted her.

‘He might not recognize me.’

Clinging to a thread of hope, Alexa nodded and walked forward alone. The employees, pretending to focus on their work, turned their heads awkwardly as Alexa moved.

Past the pillar, two young people—a man and a woman—stood side by side in front of the store’s display case. Alexa first observed the female customer.

The young noblewoman, with a haughty expression, was busy complaining to the distressed employee. The young man, who seemed to have escorted her, was looking boredly at the gloves inside the glass display.

Ah.

Alexa sighed quietly.

He was still a man with an icy, wintry aura, like a frozen lake. As if moments of uncertainty had never existed in his world, an elegant and unyielding air surrounded him.

Raymond Belsmire.

She couldn’t help but recall their first meeting and farewell.

The eighteen-year-old boy she first met in the sunlight, and the nineteen-year-old youth she parted from in the pouring rain.

But the Raymond Belsmire who once stood at the intersection of wariness and recklessness no longer existed. Now, only Duke Belsmire, who had inherited a title admired by all, appeared and drew attention.

“I heard you asked for the person in charge.”

With a locked voice, Alexa barely managed to speak. The man, who had shown no interest in the situation, slowly raised his head.

Their eyes met in midair.

His wild, gray-tinted green eyes narrowed slowly as he looked straight at her. As if expressing suspicion about something. Or as if criticizing someone’s existence. Soon, those eyes shone with a peculiar light.

The faint smile on the Duke’s lips came only after that. In a relaxed manner, Raymond gave Alexa a simple nod.

He might not recognize her. How foolish that hope from a few minutes ago had been.

Alexa greeted him politely, inwardly mocking her own naivety.

There’s no way this man wouldn’t remember her. The humiliation from that time, when she had been the only blemish in his perfect life, he couldn’t have forgotten. Whether she liked it or not, Alexa was someone who didn’t even have the right to be forgotten.

“Are you the person in charge of the department store?”

Meanwhile, the woman who had complained gestured lazily with her finger for Alexa to come over.

“Yes, Milady. Please call me Winterbourne.”

The woman seemed skeptical of Alexa’s status, but she poured out her complaints, wanting to resolve her bigger issue first.

“Fine, Miss Winterbourne. I’ll tell you the problem. First, this employee’s hands are too ugly.”

The Count’s daughter was dead serious.

“I want to buy gloves that suit my hands, but what’s the point if someone with such short fingers tries them on? I called for other staff, but they were all equally unpresentable. And if I try on gloves myself, my hands will get damaged, so that’s out of the question.”

Her complaint was that there were no pretty hands to try on the gloves for her. The boundless arrogance of those of high status was on full display. Alexa was used to people who didn’t see employees as equals. It didn’t mean she wasn’t disgusted by it.

“In that case, would you like to look at my hands? If you’re satisfied, I’ll try on the gloves that seem to suit you best.”

Alexa placed both hands on the counter. The woman tilted her head and observed the pale hands under the light. Her fingers were long and straight, her hands smooth and without curves.

Alexa focused all her attention on the customer. But she was keenly aware that the Duke was also looking at her hands. Her fingertips trembled slightly from the effort to keep her fingers straight. Even though Raymond noticed her discomfort, he didn’t bother to look away.

“Show me your palm.”

Just then, the woman tapped the back of Alexa’s hand with the thin fan she was holding, as if checking if a dead animal was alive.

Witnessing the rude act, Raymond tilted his head slightly. His gaze moved from Alexa’s hand to her still-smiling face, as if curious about her reaction to the provocation. Alexa endured the insult, keeping her smile as she showed her palm for inspection.

After finishing her examination, the woman pouted and spoke.

“Not bad. There’s a scar on your finger, though.”

“I injured it a long time ago. It’s fully healed now.”

“Fine. You show me. Since the person in charge is picking the product, I can expect something good, right?”

“Of course, Miss.”

Alexa gently encouraged the nearly tearful employee to leave for the break room. Then, for the demanding female customer, she personally tried on nearly twenty pairs of thin gloves suitable for spring and summer. The customer seemed especially pleased with the riding gloves and the floral lace gloves Alexa recommended for evening wear.

“I’ll take these.”

The display stand was cluttered with all sorts of gloves. The woman, looking down at Alexa who was busy packing new products, spoke with a mocking tone.

“You choose well. Since department stores aren’t like the ateliers of famous designers, I didn’t expect much. But I see the rumor is true that you can at least buy decent accessories here.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

Alexa responded politely, tying a blue ribbon around the box. As she skillfully finished the ribbon, a man’s low voice suddenly cut in.

“Miss Winterbourne.”

Alexa looked up at the owner of the voice, her expression one of disbelief that he would use that title. The man, whose inner thoughts were always difficult to read, was looking down at her dazed face. Relentlessly.

Confirming that he had called her ‘Miss Winterbourne,’ Alexa immediately lowered her gaze.

“If you could show my secretary where to pay, I’d appreciate it. We’ll also be settling the other items Miss Dobbins picked out under her name. If you could arrange for them to be delivered directly to her home, that would be ideal.”

“A surprise gift! Thank you, Your Grace.”

The woman was delighted, her blushing cheeks looking quite lovely.

‘Were they lovers? Or perhaps hoping to become lovers?’

As Alexa guessed at their relationship, she was startled to realize she was thinking such things. She pulled herself together and called over a nearby staff member. The employee in charge of payments left with the Duke’s secretary, who had also been waiting.

Because the woman insisted she needed the riding gloves right away, Alexa had to finish the packaging under the Duke’s watchful eyes. When she handed over the carefully wrapped gift box, the Duke accepted it in her stead.

“Well done.”

It was praise that would suffice for a subordinate, yet an uncomfortable silence wrapped around the two of them. Before that silence ended, Raymond added a redundant title as if double-checking something.

“Miss Winterbourne.”

Alexa didn’t meet his gaze, simply bending her knees in a curtsy and straightening. The sound of two pairs of footsteps faded away.

As the employees who had been watching with bated breath resumed their usual bustle, Alexa relaxed and lifted her head. The lavishly decorated interior of the department store shone as sunlight streamed in from the ceiling, gilding everything.

There had been moments when Alexa’s life sparkled like that. But since it wasn’t real gold, the surface eventually wore away.

Not all that glitters is gold.

When she lived in the same mansion as Raymond Belsmire, Alexa learned that lesson. At that time, her name was not Alexa Winterbourne, but Alexa Belsmire.

She and Raymond spent a miserably hot summer, hating each other. All because Alexa’s mother had married three times.