Deceived 5

Chapter 5

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***

For the first time in her life, the rebellion that had surged up within her burst forth as sound, something beyond Blair's control. She wasn't the type to openly reveal her true feelings.

The reason she could express such uncharacteristically honest feelings might have been because the man standing beside her was a complete stranger. Or perhaps it was the lingering haze of cigarette smoke that clouded her mind.

"Sales counter."

It was then that the man, who had only been making polite conversation, asked.

"Then what do you hope to gain from it, young lady?"

Blair, lost in complex emotions over her resentment toward her father, lifted her head. The man, his smile gone, was staring down at her intently.

"I don't even know what I could gain. I'm the one placed right in the middle of the counter."

Blair laughed bitterly, revealing she was neither buyer nor seller, merely the merchandise. The man remained silent, a cigarette dangling from his finger. His ash-gray gaze, impossible to read, settled intensely on her face. Conscious even of her own blinking, Blair continued.

"I'm from the northern estates, and it's been nearly ten years since I was last in the capital, Borsa. Tonight's banquet was practically my first social event."

"And?"

"My father had me greet several gentlemen, but honestly, every single one of them... made me want to flee the room."

Blair took a quiet breath, searching for the most understated way to describe the utterly repulsive men.

"Without exaggeration, there must have been close to twenty of them. I stopped counting after ten."

"Oh dear."

“The most unpleasant part was that one of them could have been my fiancé.”

Blair leaned her arms on the railing, avoiding the gaze that was staring at her. She rubbed her shoulder, exposed over her dress, as she gazed at the quiet cityscape. Come to think of it, their distance was too close. Just as she was bothered by the warmth transmitted from the man's arm that had brushed against hers, he broke the silence.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No, I’m not."

"Then did you want a love marriage?"

"Not really... I've never really thought about it. I mean, I knew I'd eventually have to marry someone my father chose."

"It all happened more abruptly than expected, and the men you were introduced to weren't much to speak of. I understand completely."

The man, who had finished what Blair hadn't, nodded his head as if understanding and picked up his cigarette. A hazy cloud of smoke drifted into the air.

"Well, it's a shame, then."

A faint, relaxed curve touched the man's lips, which had been set like a statue's. If Blair hadn't misread it, a hint of mischief was spreading across his face.

"I was going to suggest that if the engagement didn't appeal to you, perhaps you could run away with your lover."

Blair couldn't help but chuckle. Run away? That was absurd. It would be like following in her mother's footsteps, who had eloped with the stablehand in the dead of night.

Even if there was no man involved, would that matter? Even if she somehow vanished alone, everyone would suspect she'd run off with some unknown man. Her father would definitely think that.

Honestly, she couldn't help but laugh. She'd never even considered a relationship with a man in her entire life, and now she was thinking of running away.

"I know... This is the first time I've ever regretted not having a lover to run away with."

"It must be practically difficult for a woman alone. I offer my condolences for your dilemma.”

The man continued, exhaling a wisp of pale vapor with a faint smile.

"If you can't escape, then use this as an opportunity to listen to what your own will truly desires."

"......"

"If you just sit there on the display stand, you'll keep getting treated like merchandise."

Listening to his unusually low-pitched voice, Blair tapped her fingertips lightly against the railing.

What she desired. What did she ultimately want? If she could just stop this marriage that treated her like a commodity to be bought and sold, would her life truly change for the better?

Just then, the man stubbed out his cigarette, leaving only the filter. Sensing the atmosphere closing in, Blair quietly turned her head, conscious of his shoulder. Listening closely, the scandalous screams that had faintly drifted from the inner parlor seemed to have stopped.

Glancing up, the man appeared as impassive as before. Perhaps his hearing was poorer than his appearance suggested.

"I wish you luck in the days ahead."

He left a brief farewell and walked away without hesitation. Blair stared blankly as his broad back receded. Then, as if spellbound, she approached and spoke.

"Excuse me."

Strangely, she felt an urgent fear that if she left the balcony, she might never see him again. His straightforward, uncomplicated demeanor probably played a part in that.

"It was nice meeting you."

The unexpected greeting made the man turn back. His slate-gray eyes, tilted downward toward her, met hers in midair. He stopped and stared at Blair. She stared at his handsome face.

"And... thank you."

The reply didn't come quickly. Blair bit her lip hard. What should she add? Thank him for the advice? Or that she hoped to see him again? But she didn't even know who he was?

She couldn't find the words to continue, and so she could only stare blankly at the man standing a few feet away.

His hair, bathed in the cold moonlight, held a bluish tint. It was neatly combed back, not a strand out of place, highlighting his prominent forehead, thick eyebrows, and sharply defined eyes. His transparent pupils revealed no emotion. In contrast, his lips, curved in a soft, almost ceremonial smile, moved.

"No problem at all."

The man nodded his head in silent acknowledgment and turned to leave. Impeccably polite, yet leaving only a formal greeting behind. Blair stood rooted to the spot, watching him depart the balcony.

***

Borsa in spring was even more beautiful at midday. Gazing at the avenue lined with cherry trees in full bloom, it seemed as if an endless wave of pink was undulating. Even in the capital city of Borsa, the affluent district of Chiles was uniquely adorned with fresh and elegant landscaping.

Beyond the window, with that beautiful city as a backdrop, Edmund's expression showed no emotion.

Leaning back comfortably in his armchair, he brought the cigarette held between his fingers to his lips. He inhaled, exhaled smoke, and watched the vapor rise toward the high ceiling. Then he repeated the act, taking another deep drag and dispersing the smoke.

His gray eyes, mirroring the thick smoke, slid sideways. They were fixed on the uninvited guest who had just opened the study door and entered.

"No answer, no matter how much I knocked."

The uninvited guest grumbled, setting down the doctor's bag he always carried on the sofa opposite.

"I even sent a telegram beforehand saying I was visiting on urgent business."

The man who barged in uninvited was Benjamin, the young physician of the House of Liberte and Edmund's childhood friend. He was also the only person who could freely come and go in this townhouse where Edmund resided. That was the case until just a few days ago, though.

Edmund, not shifting a muscle, asked indifferently.

"Who opened the door for you?"

"Your butler."

"Then he’s lost a well-paying job."

He was a man of few words, someone Edmund liked, but he had to pay the price for ignoring his superior's orders and letting in an uninvited guest. Edmund flicked the cigarette, now just a filter, into the ashtray and lit another. He absolutely despised anyone who slipped beyond his control.

"I told him if he didn't open it, I'd use your regular checkup as an excuse to bring the entire corps of young nurses from the Royal Borsa Hospital."

Benjamin, refusing to back down, had been pounding on the door for so long that sweat-soaked hair plastered to his forehead. He was even more disgusted at the idea of letting a group of young, inexperienced women into his most private space, so he had come up with his own plan. Knowing the master he served, the butler would have no choice but to turn the doorknob.

Tsk, he clicked his tongue as Benjamin pulled a palm-sized envelope from his doctor's bag.

"Check it."

Edmund glanced half-heartedly at the envelope dropped on the coffee table before picking it up. Inside were five or six black-and-white photographs, each showing young women dressed in elaborate gowns.

"As you've probably guessed, these are four carefully selected potential brides for the Duke. We've chosen only young ladies from good families and confirmed none have any scandalous rumors that could be considered flaws. If you propose to any of them, you'll get immediate acceptance."

"Impressive."

"They're all quite interested in you. The young ladies lining up to marry you are waiting right there at the Ridgeway River landing."

The tone implying this was a stroke of luck grated on him. Edmund scanned the photographs, a cigarette clenched between his teeth. He flipped through them slowly, as if deliberately scrutinizing each one, yet he couldn't hide the disinterest in his gaze.

After giving the women's faces a cursory glance, Edmund flung the stack of photos onto the table. The corners of his once-straight mouth twisted into a cold sneer.

"Not my type."