“…It’s not like that.”

Ian, having listened to Sophia’s complaints, suddenly spoke up. Sophia, not understanding his answer, looked up at him. Ian let out a long sigh, digging into his inner pocket.

“I’m not taking her side. Like you said, Sophia, she’s not even family. Why would I take her side?”

But his hand found nothing. Ian realized the handkerchief was gone and paused for a moment.

‘…I told her to throw it away.’

He didn’t really regret it—just felt inconvenienced that it was gone now. Still, for some reason, the missing handkerchief irritated him far more than it should. He ran an impatient hand through his gold hair, frowning deeply over something so trivial. He bit his lip.

“Take out your handkerchief and wipe your tears. What will the staff think when we arrive?”

He sank back into his seat as he spoke, and Sophia nodded, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve. Whether by chance or not, her handkerchief was also embroidered with blue sage. It was a different style and almost new, but for some reason, it caught Ian’s attention. He closed his eyes.

‘…There’s no need to think about it. She’s just his daughter, after all.’

The carriage rolled smoothly, befitting its price. But Ian’s headache lingered; he rode the rest of the way with a deep furrow between his brows.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The Parden household was bustling in the morning. In the kitchen, staff rushed to prepare and serve the family’s breakfast; in the dining hall, curtains were drawn to let in sunlight, and everyone hurried about setting the table and seeing to the family’s needs.

Along with the busy servants, the Parden family members were up early, getting ready to go to breakfast. Their father, Graham, insisted that everyone attend breakfast together, no matter what, so sleeping in was out of the question.

“Daniel. You’re late. That’s the third time this week. Be ready to pay a fine.”

“Father, I was out late at a party with my colleagues last night. And it’s only three minutes! Cut me some slack.”

Once the last—Daniel—took his seat, the small dining hall was full. The count and countess, their four children, and, among them, three grown sons—it was only natural.

“A promise is a promise. Tell the butler to put your pay for the week in the fine box.”

“Mother! Please, talk to Father. If I lose my allowance and my pay, what am I supposed to live on?”

“That’s enough, both of you. Graham, just start eating, the children are waiting. Daniel, sit up straight and stop complaining.”

At Countess Marisa’s gentle scolding, both Graham and Daniel fell silent. Graham was the first to take a roll and place it on his plate, and—except for Arthur—the rest quickly followed suit.

The third son, Arthur, was the only one who offered a prayer before picking up his fork. Daniel shot Arthur a sidelong look, tearing at his bread as he teased him.

“Who do you pray to every day, anyway? It’s not like you’re a priest tracing the goddess’s symbol on everything…”

“It’s not strange to pay respects to the great first emperor of the Caesar Empire and the founding fathers.”

Daniel couldn’t stand Arthur’s behaviour. The custom of folding one’s hands in silent prayer before meals originated with the old nobility. They used it to disparage the new nobles, accusing them of having no self-control, even when it came to food. After being mocked for it and getting into a fistfight with a fellow knight, Daniel wanted to smack his little brother every time he did it before meals.

“You’re not one of Duke Levantus’s flashy crowd. If you want to pray, do it properly like a priest. Every time you do that, it just reminds me of those snobs.”

“Just because I don’t act like you doesn’t mean you have to mock me. Aren’t you embarrassed, being this immature at your age?”

“What? I’m not the only one who acts differently from you! Look around—no one else here copies them, right? You know what this means to Dad. Why do you insist on doing it?”

At that, Arthur set his fork down. He knew the rest of the family didn’t like his habit. If they did, his parents or eldest brother Edward would have already spoken up to support him. But the only one visibly anxious was his twin, Aisha; the others ate in silence.

“…Excuse me, I think I’ll go up early.”

“Arthur…”

When Arthur started to stand, Aisha grabbed his shirt. He brushed her hand away roughly. At that, Graham, who had stayed silent until then, set down his fork and knife with a loud clatter. Arthur’s hand clenched into a fist at their father’s immediate reaction. Graham, for his part, was notoriously weak when it came to Aisha—the only one of his children to inherit her mother’s light brown hair.

“Arthur, sit down.”

Just as Count Parden was about to say something else, Countess Marisa spoke up first. Her face was as gentle as ever, but her tone was so firm that Arthur involuntarily froze.

“Yes. Finish your meal, then go up.”

Even Edward, the eldest, chimed in, supporting their mother. Arthur had no choice but to sit back down. As soon as he did, Aisha—beside him—let out a small sigh of relief.

After that, the rest of the meal was quiet. The count and countess spoke to each other here and there; Edward asked Graham’s advice on family business. Aside from that, no one else said a word. But as the meal drew to a close and the servants cleared the dishes and brought in tea, another commotion erupted.

“I’m planning to visit the Marquis of Lloyd’s house today.”

After hesitating for a moment, Aisha finally spoke, bowing her head slightly towards her family. Daniel, who had remained silent since his argument with Arthur, jumped to his feet. After everything that had happened at the party, where did she want to go? He stared at his sister in disbelief.

“Hey! Did you forget what happened at the party? If anyone should be coming here to apologize, it’s him—not you. Why are you the one making the first move?”

“I told you already, Ian has nothing to apologize for.”

Aisha replied quietly but firmly. Daniel slumped back into his seat, rubbing the back of his neck, while Edward—who had already heard the whole story from Daniel—spoke up.

“Maybe Daniel’s right. Why don’t you wait and see what happens?”

Unlike how she had immediately answered Daniel, Aisha couldn’t reply right away to her eldest brother, Edward. With a five-year age gap, Edward’s gentle attempts to dissuade her were hard to refuse. Unable to answer, she hesitated, and as her eyes met Marisa’s, Graham spoke up.

“Go ahead. Irma, have a carriage prepared.”

“Father!”

“I heard you barely spoke with Ian after he came back. I’m sure there’s much you want to say. Go on.”

Daniel tried to protest again, but Marisa stopped him with a look. With his mother’s warning, Daniel shot his sister a grumpy glare. Aisha mouthed silently, Just this once, pleading for his understanding. In the end, Daniel drowned his complaints by gulping down his water.

“We’re all finished, so let’s get up now.”

As Daniel set his glass down, Graham dabbed at his lips with a napkin, signaling the end of breakfast. Everyone nodded and rose from their seats.

“Edward and I will be home late today, so keep that in mind. Let’s all do our best today.”

With that, the Parden family dispersed. Graham spoke quietly to Marisa as they headed upstairs together. Meanwhile, Daniel checked the time, left the hall at a brisk pace, and called for a servant. Arthur left through a different door and Aisha only slowly followed once everyone else had gone.

“Aisha. Are you really planning to go?”

No sooner had she passed under the arched doorway than Edward suddenly appeared. Startled, she almost snapped at him, but simply nodded quietly instead—the concern on his face said everything.

“All right. Go ahead. But if anything happens, promise me you’ll tell us. If not me, then at least Daniel.”

Edward rested a hand on her head, gently tousling her light brown hair. When she leaned away, as if telling him to stop, he smiled softly and offered his arm.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your room.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The hour hand had already circled the clock twice. Arriving at the Marquis of Lloyd’s mansion around ten, Aisha found herself staring anxiously at the teacup in front of her as the clock’s hands pointed to twelve.

She was already on her third cup of strong black tea. She’d grown tired of the taste halfway through the second cup, but Aisha raised the cup again. No matter how much she tried to wet her throat, her lips felt endlessly dry.

The Lloyd family maid serving her was clearly uneasy as well. It was obvious she’d never spent this long alone with a guest; as the minutes dragged on, the embarrassment on her face only deepened.

‘Should I just go and come back another day? It’s almost lunchtime—it feels rude to keep lingering here…’

The minute hand, once aligned with the hour hand, now pointed to “3.” Deciding she’d return tomorrow, Aisha began to get up from her seat. Of course, they must be busy. After a six-month trip, there’d surely be a mountain of things to catch up on. As she moved, the maid, who had been standing nearby, finally spoke up.

“Um… I think your tea’s gone cold. Would you like me to bring you a fresh cup?”

“That’s all right. But could you call someone for me? I think it’s best if I set up an appointment and leave for today.”

“Oh, yes! I’ll fetch the butler for you right away. Please wait just a moment.”

Even the maid looked relieved at the prospect of escaping the awkward situation. Aisha watched her leave, feeling slightly bitter. She then picked up her cup to finish her cold tea.

It was now completely cold. She sipped it more to soothe her dry mouth than to enjoy the flavour, gazing out of the drawing room window.

Unlike the lush, flower-filled Parden gardens, which Marisa favoured for their natural style, the Lloyd gardens were perfectly manicured, as if every plant had been measured and placed in line. In the distance, she could see a gardener with shears, trimming every stray branch from the rounded hedges. It seemed that Ian’s taste hadn’t changed at all.