Chapter 5

“Ah!”

“I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, everything went dark before Flora’s eyes, and she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder.

She thought to herself that the saying ‘so much pain that you can’t even scream’ was perfect for moments like this, as she tried to stand up from where she had collapsed.

“It’s fine.”

“Your hat fell.”

Her feathered hat appeared in front of her.

She had chosen it because she thought it looked prettiest on her, but now, in the hand of a stranger, it looked utterly ridiculous.

Why had she spent so long picking out such a trivial thing?

“Thank you.”

Tears welled up in Flora’s eyes, swept away by a wave of self-pity.

She was supposed to be a happy person who would marry in a few days, yet here she was, crying over a feathered hat.

As she received the hat and looked up at the face of the man in dark clothes, her eyes stung for a moment.

The man in front of her seemed to be the very embodiment of coldness in human form.

Even his dazzlingly handsome features were overshadowed by an aura so cold it almost hurt to look at him.

His icy blue eyes stared at her without emotion, and even the platinum hair peeking out beneath his dark velvet hat looked cold.

Though he hadn’t touched her, she felt as if she were trapped in a freezing room.

She remembered hearing that platinum hair and blue eyes were a Blois family trait, but now that she was outside Charllon, she noticed that people with similar bloodlines to Blois were not uncommon. Or perhaps this man was from Blois himself.

“Golden hair. Green eyes.”

“Pardon?”

The man stared intently at her eyes as he spoke.

Describing a lady’s appearance to her face felt rude, and Flora’s brow furrowed automatically.

“Excuse me, but may I ask your name?”

The man was politely rude. His expression didn’t change at all, and Flora wondered how a face could be so frighteningly blank. Maybe it was because she’d grown up in a place where people’s expressions were always lively—she had never seen someone whose face seemed broken like this.

Somehow, Flora felt she shouldn’t give her real name to this man.

“Uh, Ellie.”

“Ellie.”

“Yes. And you are?”

“Eric.”

“Eric.”

She repeated the name meaninglessly. What good was it for a woman about to marry to memorize a stranger’s name?

Flora smiled awkwardly and put her hat back on. Her maid Ellie was nowhere to be seen. She must have hidden herself after hearing Flora steal her name.

“Your hair is messy.”

“Oh, it’s fine. The hat will cover it.”

Flora smiled awkwardly and tried to put on her hat any which way. If Ellie were nearby, she would have helped, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“The hat won’t fix it.”

“Is it that bad?”

The cold man didn’t reply, just jerked his chin toward the glass window of a nearby shop. He must have wanted her to check her reflection.

Flora approached the window and saw a ridiculous sight. Her hair looked as if it had been torn at—one side neat, the other hanging loose. She looked like a madwoman. She suddenly felt the pain again, remembering how hard she’d collided with the man.

“Oh, dear.”

“Is your maid not with you?”

“Ah, well…”

Flora tried to hide her shaky eyes and looked around. She could feel Ellie peeking from behind a building wall in the distance.

“Luckily, I found her. Lily!”

Flora called out any name she could think of and waved her hand. Ellie hesitantly approached.

“Since I’ve found my maid, I should get back now. It was nice meeting you.”

The thought that this man might be from the Blois family made Flora’s muscles tense. Maybe he’d come all the way here just to keep an eye on her.

“Ellie.”

“Yes?”

When the man called, Ellie responded out of habit, then was so startled that she covered her mouth with both hands. She started hiccuping. The aura this man gave off was heavy for a fourteen-year-old to bear.

“Why did you call?”

“Welcome. Welcome to Bjorn.”

The man called Eric bowed his head slightly in greeting, then erased even the faintest trace of expression from his face and turned away. His words of welcome sounded ironically like a warning.

A warning to stay sharp and live carefully.

Or maybe it was just a greeting, but Flora’s nerves were so frayed that she twisted everything she heard.

* * *

“I was so scared I almost wet myself. When he called out ‘Ellie’ and I answered out of habit…”

“Sorry. I used your name as my own without asking.”

“You must have had a reason for doing that, My Lady. You don’t need to apologize to me.”

Ellie gently brushed Flora’s hair as she sat at the vanity. It seemed Ellie’s current goal was simply to fulfill her duties.

“He’s definitely a noble, but what rank do you think he holds?”

“Why do you think so?”

“Who else would dress so luxuriously?”

“Was it luxurious? I only remember he was wearing dark clothes because the sun was setting.”

“My Lady, you always wear fine clothes, so you might not notice. But from head to toe, he wore nothing but the finest fabrics. Even his hat was made of such luxurious velvet.”

“He must be the son of a very wealthy family.”

“He’s a noble and the son of a rich household, no doubt. But he didn’t seem like an ordinary noble.”

“If he’s a noble, he’s a noble. What do you mean by ‘not ordinary’?”

“His aura and commanding tone made him seem like someone who’s been ordering people around and ruling since birth. He must be the son of the most powerful noble in this region.”

“Victor is also a noble’s son, but he doesn’t give off that impression, does he?”

Flora thought of one of her brothers. He was a prankster, but he didn’t have that aura of looking down on everyone or ruling over them like the man from earlier.

“That’s why I’m sure he’s the son of the region’s highest authority!”

“What family in Devilleon could that be? Other than Charllon and Blois…”

Chills ran down her spine. She remembered the man she’d seen at the royal music concert years ago.

‘Was he from the Blois family?

Or was I just overwhelmed by anyone with platinum hair and blue eyes?’

Flora shivered and pulled up her chemise, rubbing her arms. She felt cold.

“Even coming just to Bjorn, the weather is so different from the west, isn’t it? It gets really chilly at night. If we’d been riding in the carriage in this weather, we might have frozen to death. How much colder must it be in the eastern region where Blois is?”

Listening to Ellie, Flora recalled what had happened a few hours earlier.

‘Why had that man come to Bjorn?’

She remembered her father meeting Duke Christophe Blois at a castle in Bjorn.

Everything seemed to point to him being from the Blois family.

With all these tangled thoughts, Flora ended up unable to sleep.

Eventually, she decided simply: he must have come hunting in Bjorn, which is warmer than the eastern region. Thinking that way helped her calm down.

Early in the morning, Flora quickly prepared to board the carriage again, with Ellie’s help.

In front of the inn, the horses and coachmen, now recovered, greeted them cheerfully.

Flora forced a smile and bowed.

She took a step, then another, toward the carriage, when a strange voice called out from afar.

“Flora.”

It was a heavy, yet somehow familiar voice. Flora answered reflexively before turning around.

“Yes?”

When she turned, she saw a man, not in the black clothes from yesterday, but in a blue velvet jacket and a sky-blue shirt. Without a hat, his platinum hair sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight.

His blue eyes, staring straight at her, shone with both amusement and something unpleasant.

“So you live a double life. My future wife, Flora. Or should I greet the lady named Ellie whom I met yesterday?”

She could feel Ellie hiccuping beside her. It seemed even Ellie felt guilty for being an accomplice.

‘Wait, did he really say ‘my future wife’?

Did I hear that correctly?’

“You said your name was Eric…”

“My friends call me Eric. My real name is Emeric.”

“So you greeted me yesterday knowing who I was?”

“Wasn’t it you who bumped into me first?”

“But!”

Flora started to protest, but stopped herself. She didn’t have the energy to argue, and she thought there must be a reason why he showed up here again.

“Why did you come here so early in the morning?”

“You’re quick-witted. I like that.”

Emeric gestured, and a grand, imposing carriage was brought up behind the one Flora had been about to board.

“From here on, it’s better to travel in Blois’s carriage.”

“Why?”

“Weak carriages like this are completely exposed to the harsh eastern winds. And thin clothes that show so much skin won’t protect you from the cold either.”

Emeric looked at Flora’s clothes with a contemptuous gaze and clicked his tongue.

She remembered what people had said back in Charllon—people in the east hate exposed bodies.

At his cold stare, Flora shrank back and gripped her shawl tightly with both hands.