The moment the name Loretta Fideloi left Sophia’s lips, the group’s eyes lit up. Rumors had already been swirling that Ian had chosen Loretta Fideloi of the Fideloi Count’s family as his partner.

“Now that I think about it, Miss Sophia, may I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

When the person seated to Sophia’s left spoke in an excited voice, she tilted her head and allowed a slow smile to curl at the corners of her lips. No sooner had she given permission than the question came flying in, quick and eager.

“The Marquess of Lloyd brought Miss Loretta as his partner… Was there some other reason for that?”

“A reason? What exactly do you mean?”

“Until now, the Marquess of Lloyd’s partners have either been you, Miss Sophia, or Miss Aisha of the Farden Count’s family. But suddenly he brought someone else… I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing, but I wondered if there might have been some problem with the engagement between the Parden Count’s house and the Lloyd Marquess’s house…”

As the conversation flowed exactly where she wanted it to, Sophia hid a quiet laugh to herself. Outwardly, however, she had to play the part of someone slightly offended. She drew in her fan and let her expression harden. When the smile faded from her face, she caught the flicker of unease in her questioner’s posture. Sophia adopted a cold tone, delivering her words in a low, cutting voice.

“It seems you’re mistaken. There were a few discussions, yes, but in the end, the Marquess of Lloyd never promised an engagement with the Parden Count’s family.”

“But the late former Marquess and Marchioness—”

“Miss Rose. Are you going to bring up my deceased parents just to contradict me?”

Perhaps convinced that Sophia truly was angry, the others—who had been quietly listening—shot sharp looks at the woman who had asked the question. Under their censure, the woman called Rose quickly turned to Sophia with an apology.

“N-no. If I’ve been rude, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Sophia gave a derisive little smile at the sight of her opponent shrinking back. She set her fan down on the table and took up her teacup. Without another word, she sipped her tea, letting the tension build. When she finally set the cup down with unhurried grace, her gaze swept over each person in the group. She let out a deep sigh.

“Ha… I realise I sounded a bit sharp, but I hope you understand. It’s a sensitive matter, and the situation has been exacerbated by the fact that I’ve been under a great deal of stress because of Miss Aisha.”

At Sophia’s words, the group stayed silent, but their eyes brimmed with curiosity. Sensitive matter? Stress? Their eyes gleamed like a flock of hawks spotting prey.

With the stage set and her audience ready, Sophia’s performance hit its stride. She pressed a hand to her forehead and gave a weary shake of her head, as though truly burdened. Unable to hold back, one of them leaned forward in her seat, almost rising, and asked,

“Miss Sophia, what on earth has happened?”

“Ha…”

Sophia sighed again, drawing out the moment. When she felt every gaze fixed squarely on her, she finally spoke, slow and deliberate.

“As you all know, Miss Aisha of the Parden Count’s family nearly became engaged to my brother. But this time, my brother refused—flatly.”

Gasps and muffled exclamations broke out at the news, the last thing they’d expected to hear. Watching their swelling curiosity, Sophia leaned in slightly, raising a finger to her lips. In a voice small yet unmistakably clear, she let her malice slip free.

“Don’t repeat this anywhere. It’s rather shameful, after all. The truth is, Miss Aisha Parden of the Parden Count’s family…”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“You’re a little late. I’ll pay the fine, so don’t scold me too much.”

On the morning marking exactly a week since she’d fallen ill, Aisha came down to the family dining hall with a radiant smile, as if she had never been sick at all. But her family’s expressions were not entirely pleased—especially seeing how much weight she had lost in such a short time.

Noticing the lack of cheer, Aisha quickly took her seat, wiped her hands, and picked up a piece of bread larger than what she usually ate.

“Eat slowly.”

The Count and Countess, along with Edward and Arthur, respected her wish to act as though nothing had happened and continued their meal without comment. Only Daniel kept frowning. But since she had only just returned to the table, he couldn’t very well rebuke his sister—so he expressed his displeasure by tossing several thin slices of ham onto her plate.

“Daniel, I think we’ll have to ask Mrs. Meritz to give you another lesson in manners.”

At Marisa’s stern tone—prompted by her son’s complete disregard for table etiquette—Daniel straightened up from his slouched posture. Mrs. Meritz had been the boys’ tutor when Edward and Daniel were young, and she was as meticulous in her work as her neatly coiled, no-nonsense hairstyle suggested.

In childhood, the well-mannered Edward had been scolded by her only a handful of times, but Daniel had been reprimanded so often that ten fingers weren’t enough to count the occasions. As a result, even hearing her name made him stiffen.

“I couldn’t reach it from here… Thanks, brother.”

As Daniel’s face paled, Aisha came to his aid. Arthur, seated directly across from her, plucked a slice of ham from her plate and shot Daniel a mocking smirk. Seeing this, Daniel glared at his younger brother, about to speak—but Edward’s discreet jab to his side stopped him, and he ground his teeth instead.

“Edward, His Highness has given you a special request…”

“They’ve inquired from the Ablanc family about trading in wine. They said the vineyards in their southern estate are likely to see a plentiful harvest this year.”

“Professor Gallant is always the same. He’s a bit old-fashioned—sometimes to the point of being frustrating—but in a way, that makes him easy to deal with. He never brings up the subject of donations.”

“Stableman John sent word that he’s quitting and returning to his hometown. He was a diligent worker… I liked him.”

Nevertheless, the atmosphere had lightened considerably. The family continued their meal, asking each other the occasional question. After a week without Aisha, the mornings had felt rather gloomy, so everyone welcomed the rare warmth now filling the air.

“Aisha, do you have anything planned for today?”

Joining in the pleasant mood, Aisha kept the conversation going while moving her hands busily. She was chewing ham with visible effort when Edward reached over, took some from her plate, and asked. Seeing her plate now neatly emptied, Aisha answered with an unthinking, bright smile.

“I’m thinking of visiting the dressmaker’s.”

“The dressmaker’s? You’re going in person?”

“Mm-hm. Why?”

A faint worry touched Edward’s face as he studied his younger sister, who seemed to have grown thinner over the past few days. The neckline and sleeves of her dress hung loosely on her frame.

“It hasn’t been long since you got out of bed. Just have someone come to the house.”

“I’ve been in my room so long I just want to get outside. It’s been stuffy, and the weather’s nice these days.”

Aisha glanced out through the hall’s windows as she spoke. Late spring was drawing to a close, and the morning sunlight was already strong. Watching the golden light fall across his sister’s face, Edward slowly nodded—then, as if remembering something, spoke.

“Then I’ll come with you.”

“You? What about your work?”

“His Highness is on holiday. Thanks to that, the people under me have a bit more breathing room. If I send word, they’ll understand me being away for half a day.”

Aisha hesitated. She appreciated the thought, of course. But her eldest brother was even more conservative than their father, Graham, when it came to her attire. She had been planning to try on a summer dress with a boldly cut neckline or back… but it seemed she would have to abandon that idea.

After revising her plans, Aisha nodded, and Edward placed a hand over his chest at an angle, answering playfully that it would be an honor to accompany a lady.

“When your superior is away, shouldn’t you be even busier? What’s going to happen to this country…”

Daniel, who had been listening quietly to their exchange, interrupted. He was scheduled for an overnight shift that evening and was clearly not in favour of Edward taking a leisurely outing with their sister.

“For someone worrying about the country, you don’t exactly toe the line whether your superior is around or not. You think I don’t know? You’re always skipping training and running off. Isn’t tonight’s duty just to make up for that?”

“Hey!”

Arthur answered before Daniel could get another word in, not even bothering to lift his head. Quick-tempered as ever, Daniel jabbed his fork in Arthur’s direction—only to lower it quickly when Marisa’s eyes fell on him.

“So. Which dressmaker’s were you planning to visit?”

Ignoring Daniel’s grumbling, Edward addressed Aisha instead. She speared a neat, bite-sized cube of fresh cheese and answered without hesitation.

“Madame Louvre’s on Bobes Street. She sent me a letter not long ago saying she’d gotten a large shipment of Levant’s blue fabric.”

“That’s not far. If we go in the morning, let’s have lunch nearby as well. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out with my little sister—I ought to loosen the purse strings.”

“Really? Then while you’re at it, make it something expensive, please, brother.”

As Aisha and Edward traded light banter, Daniel—still sulking—sat chopping his food into tiny pieces. Suddenly, he lifted his head and fixed a sharp look on Aisha. Caught off guard by the abrupt change in his expression, she met his gaze with a puzzled look.

“Speaking of dressmakers… Aisha, who are you going to the imperial banquet with next month? Have you chosen a partner?”

His voice was low and heavy, as though dropped straight into the middle of the table. The Parden family, who had been eating or chatting as they pleased, all stopped at once. Aisha bore the weight of their stares and tried to answer as casually as she could—but no one at the table missed the tremor in her voice.

“…I haven’t decided yet.”

“Good.”

Daniel’s reply came the instant she finished speaking. His fork kept working at the food on his plate, mashing the meat to pulp—a quiet reflection of his displeasure.

“Since we’re all going anyway, don’t go humiliating yourself by writing to someone and asking them to be your partner. Just attend with the family. Understood?”

The barb was obvious. Aisha kept her eyes on her plate instead of responding. She had been trying not to think about it, but Ian’s words kept echoing in her ears.

He would certainly be at the imperial banquet, too. But with whom? Would he bring the same partner for all three days of the festivities? Or a different one each time? Since telling her they should keep their distance, he hadn’t given her a single day.

‘…I hope he brings someone different every time.’