Chapter 13
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She lost her whole family. If it was her, Meti thought, she wouldn't be able to do anything because she would be in pain.
She would have cried every day, thrown food fits like a child, been irritable and angry, and made life difficult for everyone around her. Knowing herself well, Meti was sure.
She couldn't imagine life without her loving family.
"Are you sure you’re okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I'm in the sunshine and it's actually making my tiredness go away. I'm not cold. Let's walk a little bit longer, just a little bit more, and then we'll go inside."
"Just a little bit longer, then."
"Yes. I promise. But don't tell Mrs. Zendle."
Meti nodded, unable to help the smile on her face. She was still bothered by the red tip of Amber’s nose, but she wanted to grant the poor woman's insignificant wish.
Time with her would be good for Meti.
"I won’t, don't worry."
The two women, fingers intertwined like children, picked up where they left off.
The wind picked up again. The cold outside air relieved the stifling feeling, but it did nothing to stop the shivering.
Amber tried to ignore her heavy head.
****
There it was again.
In the distance, the woman sneezed again. The man's brow furrowed as he heard it.
Achoo.
The smoke from the extinguished cigar dispersed in a long tail in the air.
Listan turned away from the second-floor parlor overlooking the garden. It was just after Amber had disappeared from view.
Again, again, again.
He closed the balcony door at the sound of approaching footsteps behind him.
"Anything to see?"
The woman had risen from the sofa and was moving toward him. Her slow steps sped up a little as she closed the glass door.
Listan thought as he stubbed his cigar out in the ashtray. The curious question was out of character for the woman.
"Doesn't anyone realize that the only thing to see in a garden in this weather is bare trees?"
"It's no secret to anyone in the capital that the gardens at Bliss Manor are quite beautiful, and even in winter, I suppose we can at least expect there to be something special."
The woman took a step closer, her thin lips drawn up.
“If the Grand Duke is so absorbed in his gaze that it takes his breath away, then my curiosity will only grow.”
The woman frowned, then smiled. Listan chuckled softly at the fleeting emotion.
The woman, so adept at hiding her emotions, was offended. Realizing the mistake of the moment, she even became provocative.
Greta Latre.
The sole daughter of Count Louis Latre, press czar of the Reuben Empire, was a spirited woman. Her beauty and family background made her the most sought-after woman on the marriage market.
Greta Latre's domineering nature was no secret to any socialite.
It was a rare sight to see this domineering woman interested in something or someone other than herself.
Listan knew that he was the only one who could take her attention away from herself.
It was unexpected that such a woman could hide her curiosity.
It was an unexpected aspect of her, but not one that tugged at his emotions.
"The sunshine distracted me for a moment."
It was curious to see the little woman moving around.
"Not something Miss Greta would be curious about."
Listan said nothing more, just to be polite, and that was enough; Greta's curiosity was none of his business.
Greta, whose ambitions were as great as her personality and background, had long had her heart set on Listan.
But Count Latre, unlike his daughter, was not pleased with the colony's prince. Listan was half Emperor's blood and half the blood of the royal family of Reuben's vassal state of Robenia.
The Count didn't like the fact that Listan was the son of a colony, albeit a royal one, but one that his country had lost.
If his daughter's daring rested on the spires of the Cathedral of Kirn, the pride of the Empire, the Count of Latre's greed and ambition roamed somewhere beyond the skies. To the Count, Listan Cliffrid was an inadequate match.
His daughter, a paragon of perfect nobility, favored a half-breed prince.
His blood was unholy because it was not perfect. No matter how much his daughter wanted him, he was not someone the Count could easily accept.
From the Count's point of view, he would rather send his precious daughter to the Emperor than to a half-breed Grand Duke.
She was a perfect daughter from a perfect family. It was only natural to think that the Emperor was the perfect man to be her husband.
"What brings you here today?"
It was a rare free day.
Listan had returned from his travels and was enjoying some quiet time in his study. Aiden announced that the young Lady of Latre had passed through the manor's entrance.
Listan headed for the second floor, leaving instructions to escort her to the parlor. The afternoon sun was mild despite the chilly temperature.
As he made his way to the balcony, cigar in hand, he let his gaze wander aimlessly. Something moving caught his eye. His eyes naturally followed it, making out the shape.
It was Amber Kaida.
She was walking with Meti, fluttering like a flower in the wind. They seemed to be around the same age.
Her aura was light. Her mood was soft, like the air permeated by sunlight, and she seemed to be enjoying the moment as she strolled through the garden.
Listan was staring at the slightest movement when Greta Latre entered the parlor.
"Uncharacteristically, you seem to be in a hurry today."
The woman's eyes narrowed.
"No, I don't think so. If anything, Miss Greta looks impatient to me."
The corners of Greta's mouth twitched as she smiled. Listan's face remained impassive in the face of this seemingly penetrating response.
Really.......
It was hard to hide anything in front of this man, no matter what it was, and lying didn't work anymore, no matter how good she was at hiding things.
Their eyes never wavered as they looked at each other.
Greta's blue eyes pierced into the deep, calm sea, unmoving.
In the few seconds that passed, Greta's mind raced with a myriad of emotions. The man in front of her, on the other hand, remained expressionless and relaxed.
She could tell by the air in the parlor that this situation was getting ridiculous, and she was going to look ridiculous as time went on.
She never thought she could beat a mountain of a man in the first place.
That was why she'd decided to go for it. She knew she had to show him a softer side once in a while.
When she was done, Greta spoke up.
"I've heard rumors."
Listan's castle had a new member, she had heard. There was a social club in the Reuben Empire that only the most influential families among the nobility were allowed to join.
Club Grace required families with territory and history that exceeded internal standards.
In addition to their strict criteria, they were also obsessed with gathering information. In order to maintain their history, traditions, wealth, and honor, it was important to collect and preemptively gather information.
Most of the information they gathered was not wrong, which was why Greta Latre wasted no time in visiting Bliss Manor.
There was a newcomer to Bliss Manor, with Lystan Cliffrid as its owner.
No one knew what the newcomer looked like, but it was clear that it was a woman.
Rumor had it that she was a distant relative of Selma Zendle, though nothing was certain.
Rumor had it that the ambitious Selma Zendle was trying to push her niece on Listan Cliffrid.
It was also rumored that the woman was stunningly beautiful, so it was no surprise that Listan was swayed by her. There was no man in the world who could resist a beautiful woman.
Rumors and information kept piling up, leading to one conclusion.
Listan Cliffrid, brother of the Emperor and owner of the vast Bliss Manor, had a fiancée.
Rumors that had been floating around for a while had become certain in the last few days, and they were floating around the club.
"What rumors are you talking about...."
He smiled, his words trailed off, and his face was deceptively beautiful, the kind of man who knew she cared deeply about him, beyond his obvious interest.
This moment was no different, and Greta found it hard to hide her excitement.
"I've been informed that the Grand Duke’s fiancée is here at Bliss Manor."
"Mmm...."
He buried himself deeper into the sofa and nodded slowly. His face was impassive, as if he had heard of someone else's business.
"I heard it from Grace, so you know it's reliable information."
"Then it must be reliable information."
"Tell me about her, your fiancée."
Listan's gaze turned to her. His gaze was still and steady. It was cold enough to send a chill down her spine.
Even though she knew it was just her own perception of the cynicism in his emotionless eyes, the feeling of unjustified insult was vivid.
"So you've come to check up on me?"
"Is what I've heard true?"
The conversational style of answering questions with questions was one of Listan's pet peeves. It surprised him, but there was no way to take back what had already been said.
Greta stiffened her back and lifted her chin a little higher. It was better to be bold than cowardly.
Pride was as important to a noble as life itself.
"I thought you still had pride."
Contempt shone in his low voice. As Greta hid her surprise, the man spoke again.
"Did you think I would be so kind as to explain things to you if you came unannounced, Lady Latre?"
***
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