4.2

The day of Pavel’s departure came quickly. Near the end, things became so hectic that Larisa didn’t even get the chance to say a proper goodbye. All she heard was that the knights had left early that morning.  

As promised to Pavel, Larisa had no interaction with any other men. She tried to attend tea parties with other ladies or, if she went to a party, returned home early.  

Men who sought to take advantage of Pavel’s absence naturally hovered around her, but Larisa didn’t even spare them a glance.  

It wasn’t just that no man could measure up to her heightened standards after Pavel; the promises she had made with him lingered in her mind.  

One morning, about three weeks after Pavel’s departure, an incident occurred.  

“My lady, a letter has arrived.”  

“From whom? Could it be from His Grace, the Duke of Ainsley?”  

“No, actually…”  

Bailey hesitated, holding out the envelope. When Larisa saw the wax seal stamped on it, her brows furrowed deeply. She tore the envelope open with an irritated hand. Its contents consisted of a single sheet of paper.  

“Ha.”  

Larisa let out a dry laugh. The letter wasn’t long. She skimmed through it briefly, then folded it once, then again, and stuffed it back into the envelope.  

“Of all times, now you’re looking for me.”  

“My lady…”  

“They want me to come today. Ha, could they not have given me at least a day’s notice?”  

Though, it’s not like they care about my schedule. 

Larisa, annoyed, tossed the envelope onto her vanity. Then, turning to Bailey, she said,  

“Help me get ready quickly. The later I go, the more irritated they’ll be.”  

Bailey bowed her head and left to summon the maids. Larisa, staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror, clicked her tongue and turned away.  

Dressed in a neat and mature style, rather than her usual bright and cheerful attire, Larisa stepped out of the townhouse. As soon as she boarded the waiting carriage, the coachman set the horses into motion.  

Her destination was the main estate of the Marquis of Lochrain. The estate was located on the outskirts of the capital, about thirty minutes away by carriage from the townhouse where she lived.  

Larisa’s mood, as she headed toward the main estate, was already at rock bottom. And for good reason—she had never once felt good after facing her parents.  

When the carriage stopped in front of the estate, the door opened almost as if someone had been waiting. Glancing briefly at the face of the elderly butler, Larisa stepped out of the carriage and asked,  

“Who should I see first?”  

“The Marquis is expecting you. Madame is still resting.”  

“Got it.”  

With bold steps—though she did not lose her grace—Larisa headed toward the Marquis’s study. The butler followed silently behind her.  

The maids and servants, aware of her arrival, quickly bowed their heads and stepped aside at the sight of the icy expression on the young lady’s face. None of them had ever seen Larisa smile brightly in this house. She was always either expressionless or gloomy.  

When they reached the study, the butler stepped ahead of Larisa and knocked on the door.  

“Marquis, Lady Larisa has arrived.”  

“Let her in.” 

Came the low voice of a man. The butler nodded toward Larisa and opened the door.  

In the middle of the study, filled with luxurious furniture and decorations, sat a man whose face Larisa had no desire to resemble. No matter how one looked at him, the man bore an undeniable resemblance to her, with his noble yet stern expression. The middle-aged man gestured toward her with a wave of his hand.  

“Sit there.”  

As she sat on the sofa, upholstered in crimson velvet with damask patterns, Larisa thought to herself, 

I really hate this sofa.

Her taste leaned toward simpler, muted tones, closer to blue. Not this garish red. Even in such trivial matters, she found herself at odds with her parents. Larisa clicked her tongue inwardly.  

The Marquis of Lochrain sat Larisa down and continued reviewing his documents for some time. Larisa, accustomed to this, simply sipped the tea the butler had brought.  

Much time had passed. Just as her back began to ache from sitting up straight for so long, the Marquis finally put down his pen and came to sit in front of her. Larisa poured tea into the cup before him with her own hands. Her father enjoyed being served by his children.  

“What brings you to summon me?”  

“I hear you’re still meeting with the Duke of Ainsley. You always break things off quickly.”  

“And?”  

“Why don’t you just enjoy your little fling with him and end it?”  

Is this really all he has to say after such a long time apart?

Larisa couldn’t hide the twist in her lips.  

“Why? Isn’t someone like him exactly the type of person you’d approve of? You’re not even telling me to try harder and marry him.”  

Though she had never seriously thought about marriage, Larisa spoke provocatively. The Marquis of Lochrain clicked his tongue, looking at her as if she were pathetic.  

“Do you think the Duke of Ainsley would truly consider you?”  

“He said he doesn’t know what to do because he likes me so much.”  

“Ha, so naive.”  

The Marquis, paying no attention to his daughter sitting before him, lit his pipe. Acrid smoke quickly filled the study. Larisa furrowed her brow, suppressing the cough that threatened to escape.  

“With someone of his stature, he’ll either choose a docile, obedient wife or the noblest woman he can find. You—well, your looks won’t embarrass him, but you’re too middling to keep by his side. It’s obvious he’d find our family burdensome.”  

“……”  

“And in any case, I never considered you as a match for that man. You’ll have a different use elsewhere.”  

Use. 

Larisa despised that word with every fiber of her being.  

Her father had never treated her as his child. To him, she was nothing more than a decorative pawn in a grand game, to be paired with someone advantageous to the family at the right moment.  

He often lamented that she wasn’t born a son. When she met one man after another, all he ever did was click his tongue and say, ‘Just make sure you don’t end up pregnant.’ It wasn’t out of concern for her well-being but rather for fear that her “value” as a commodity might diminish.  

Yet, in the presence of others, he would put on the facade of a loving father who cherished his daughter above all.  

Larisa found it unbearable. After years of struggle, she had finally escaped from this house. But she hadn’t been “allowed” to flee entirely. The mere fact that she could live separately was a small blessing. If she had stayed and faced him every day, she was certain she would have gone mad.  

“…If that’s all you wanted to say, I’ll take my leave.”  

“End things with the Duke of Ainsley. Quickly.”  

“Why should I? He… loves me.”  

“Are you going to keep spouting such nonsense? If that man truly wanted to keep you by his side, if he even considered making you his wife, he would’ve given you some kind of token by now. Have you received anything like that?”  

Larisa bit her lip. She hadn’t even thought about that.  

Pavel had told her he liked her, that he had harbored feelings for her for a long time, but…  

When she didn’t respond, the Marquis of Lochrain scoffed.  

“See? Just as you’ve toyed with other men, Pavel Ainsley is toying with you.”  

“That’s not true.”  

“Believe what you want. That’s your choice. But by next year, you’ll need to marry for real. So heed my words. When the Duke of Ainsley returns, end things with him. Do you understand? I’m only saying this for your sake. That man already has someone else—. No, but what’s with your hair? Didn’t I tell you to keep it neatly tied up?”  

From then on, the Marquis of Lochrain was relentless in pointing out Larisa’s flaws. Her face looked dull, her hair was a mess, her waist seemed thicker, her posture was sloppy…  

The endless stream of criticisms and nitpicking made Larisa’s head throb.  

When she was younger, her father’s words had frightened and shocked her. She had worked tirelessly to fix herself, to conform to his standards. But looking back, she realized it had all been for nothing. His standards were his alone.  

She was beautiful even without cinching her waist tightly, without tying her hair into an immaculate updo, without painting her face white and her lips bright red.  

She had never intended to marry Pavel in the first place. She had simply found his proposal amusing and decided to play along. Even if she didn’t marry him and become a duchess, Larisa was confident she would remain the queen of the social scene.  

With her lips tightly sealed, Larisa endured the ordeal, silently repeating to herself, 

No, you’re wrong.