“That player who just fell is a friend of mine – I think he might be hurt.”

Nigel said as he watched the scene unfold on the pitch.

“It wouldn’t be proper to leave a lady alone, but would you mind if I went and checked on him?”

“Of course not. I’d like to go too, but my ankle…”

“Ah, right – we’ve got an injured person here too, haven’t we? If you want to sit on the grass and rest, I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that, Nigel jumped over the fence and entered the field. Grey also looked as if he was going to check on the players, but several others immediately blocked him, hurling harsh words and shoving him away.

The contrast was almost comical – Nigel, who had just arrived, was welcomed without hesitation.

Pushed away, Grey led his horse to the edge of the field.

It was then that several young ladies, clearly waiting for an opportunity, approached him with sympathetic expressions and handkerchiefs in hand.

The look on Grey’s face was indescribable.

As if he’d seen a ghost, he abruptly changed direction and headed straight for Regina.

Before she could react, their eyes locked.

“Good day.”

The moment his gaze landed on her, Regina felt her cheeks flush as if they were on fire.

Even a simple greeting from him felt like the opportunity of a lifetime.

A sudden, impulsive desire flared – to hold his attention just a little longer, to make herself unforgettable in his memory.

But wasn’t that exactly what the other women were doing? Staring at him longingly from behind?

Pull yourself together, Regina.

“Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?”

“How’s your ankle? From the ball the other night?”

He seemed to remember how she’d twisted it. The realisation made Regina’s heart skip a beat.

“It’s a mild sprain, nothing serious. Thank you for helping me then.”

“Oh? That’s the first ‘thank you’ I’ve heard in ages.”

A dry, cynical smile touched his lips.

Regina remained silent, suspecting she understood why.

Perhaps he took her silence as another form of rejection, for his gaze turned cold, dropping to her feet.

“Injured at such a time – what a shame. You must have come all the way to Riddenborough for the wedding season.”

Balls were the ideal setting for unmarried men and women to get to know each other. It wasn’t just about conversation – it was about holding hands, matching steps. From this kind of intimacy, affection naturally blossomed.

Now that she could no longer dance, it was as if half her body had been rendered useless.

“It’s not just this year. Spring comes back every year, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe. But each new spring is a little drier than the last, don’t you think?”

At his blatantly rude remark, Regina paused, her lips parted slightly in disbelief.

A young lady’s social season was usually limited to three years: relaxed in the first, serious in the second and desperate in the third. There were enough sayings to reflect the pressure on women to find a husband in that time.

Wounded by the barb, Regina frowned and shot back.

“I hear the Earl of Cabil is unmarried too. Perhaps instead of worrying about my source, you should look after your own estate first?”

“Hm. Then when you become the new spring that blooms on my estate, we’d both have our problems solved, wouldn’t we?”

Ugh. What a tasteless joke.

Throughout the exchange, Grey had been slowly stroking his gloves. His eyes never left hers, only his hand moved, and the gesture had a strangely suggestive quality.

She should have glared at him for being so shameless, but instead her face flushed with betrayal.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to decline in this lifetime. If there’s a spring in the next, perhaps we can talk then.”

“Why? Because you think I’ll be more of a gentleman in the next life?”

He spoke lightly, as if joking, but there was a slight tremor in his voice that struck a chord with her.

If this was just what she saw from the outside, she couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of discrimination Grey had experienced first hand.

“Who knows? You may have a gentler nature in the next life.”

“So you blame it on my personality? Hm.”

The grin on his handsome face only deepened, suggesting he didn’t believe her for a second.

If she hadn’t just watched him on the polo field, she might have thought he was being overly sensitive.

“To be perfectly honest, your looks aren’t exactly my type either.”

“My looks…?”

“I prefer someone who seems warm and familiar the more I look at them.”

She couldn’t call something red when it was clearly blue – but she could at least pretend that his icy, otherworldly beauty wasn’t something she didn’t appreciate.

“You’re a very interesting lady. May I ask your name?”

Good heavens. He didn’t even know her name!

Fighting the urge to bite her tongue in frustration, Regina calmly replied.

“Regina. Regina Odair.”

“So you’re Sir Ralph’s daughter.”

“You know my father?”

“One of the few people who acknowledges my existence.”

Grey replied with a faint smile.

It was a jab at her situation – being treated like a ghost by society.

The only consolation was that at least her good-natured father hadn’t treated Grey with the same contempt as the others.

Standing before her now, Grey looked like a being specially favoured by the heavens – flawless in every way.

He seemed far too solid, too serene, to be wounded by something as petty as discrimination.

And yet… why did her heart ache for him?

“I’m sorry.”

Grey wiped the sweat from his sharp jawline and looked at her in confusion.

“I know it doesn’t mean much, but not everyone agrees with the way you’re treated.”

“It’s all right, the truth is, my background is more humble than the other gentlemen’s.”

“No one is beneath anyone.”

At that, his deep navy eyes took on a curious gleam as he fixed them on her.

“If anything, it is those who call others inferior who are truly unworthy.”

“You have just become one of them, Lady Regina.”

“Oh!”

Startled, Regina gasped and covered her mouth with wide eyes, making Grey chuckle.

The sun was beating down mercilessly on her, raising her body temperature, and the warmth that blossomed in her chest left her defenceless against his mischievous smile.

At this rate, she felt she might fall completely for him.

Like someone stranded on a cliff, she instinctively looked around for a lifeline – her eyes searching for Nigel.

But this proved to be a mistake.

Behind Grey, several of the players had gathered, glowering, spitting and muttering curses.

Perhaps it was better that Grey had turned her back and couldn’t see their expressions. Just as she thought that –

“Do you see that angry herd of donkeys over there, Lady Regina?”

He said casually, as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

“Listen to what they’re shouting. That’ll be the last time they dare speak like that in my presence.”

The sheer arrogance of his words left Regina speechless.

Bathed in sunlight, his eyes sparkled like the brightest facet of a sapphire as he looked down at her.

His shadow fell heavily across her already flushed cheeks.

This was bad.

Of all the men – this was the one she must not fall for.

—

Dreaming was a privilege reserved for those who had everything.

For those struggling through the harshness of reality, even the time to dream was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

Despite this, the servants who worked for House Cabil were relatively well off.

Among the old nobility, who valued tradition and bloodlines, the Cabils had the worst reputation – but strangely enough, the household was considered a highly desirable place to work for servants.

There were no “old stones” who lorded it over others just because their families had served for generations, and being of bourgeois origin, the family paid generously. The staff had every reason to work hard.

“Ah!”

But these words were quickly contradicted.

A freshly laundered white duvet tumbled across the lawn. The maids rushed to retrieve it, but it was already covered in dirt and bits of grass.

“Oh no…”

The maids looked helplessly at the dirty blanket.

It was large and heavy, and had absorbed so much water that washing and drying it would be a laborious task.

“What are you doing, seriously?”

All eyes turned to Dain, the one in charge.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to wash this? It’s not the first time either – are you doing this on purpose?”

Dain’s face twisted as she was bombarded with scolding looks.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! It’s heavy – what do you expect? Can’t you see my wrists and arms? I’ve never worked like this before!”

She held out her delicate arms, more suited to a noble lady than a servant, as if pleading for sympathy.

The maids exchanged mocking looks.

“Poor thing. You’ll have to get used to it soon.”

“Keep it up and you’ll be mucking out the stables next.”

“Oh, come on! She’s already shovelling manure, isn’t she?”

“Ahaha!”

Laughter broke out among the maids.

Once a girl who lounged around in fine clothes, Dain was now dressed in a shabby junior maid’s uniform.

Laundry by day, kitchen cleaning by night – this was her new reality.

On top of that, every morning she had to go from room to room, emptying and scrubbing the chamber pots.