Chapter 75
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“Are the Brucken people naturally straightforward?”
Edmund raised one eyebrow as if observing a child who’d made a mistake.
“He could have asked his sister in his native tongue, yet he deliberately used the common language as if to be overheard.”
"Ahaha... I'll keep a closer eye on my brother, Lord Liberte."
The Countess smiled sweetly, her arm busily moving beneath the table as if pinching Marcel. Blair, not knowing where to look, silently resumed her meal.
His gaze was so sharp it took careful observation to notice, and her heart fluttered, wondering if it held a hint of rivalry. But that was an absurd thought. As always, Edmund's reaction was surely calculated to save face.
After all, what husband would ignore a stranger showing interest in his wife? So it was hardly surprising that Edmund showed displeasure in a public setting.
The main course and dessert that followed were renowned delicacies from Brucken, and the guests finished the banquet with satisfied expressions.
Leaving the dining room, they moved to the parlor, each holding a glass as they began chatting. The cozy space warmed by the blazing fireplace felt more relaxed, free from the formality of the dining table. Sitting on a comfortable sofa, Blair also felt her tension ease.
"Blair."
Soon, Edmund rose from his seat along with several gentlemen and turned to look at her. Blair paused, about to take a sip from her glass, and lifted her head.
"Yes, Edmund."
"I'll be back shortly from the smoking room."
"Go ahead. I'll wait here."
She nodded, and Edmund took a step closer. Even as his face drew near as he bent his body, Blair didn't know what was about to happen. Soon, something soft touched her cheek, lingered for a moment, then fell away. A brief moment stretched out as if elongated, and she, still only blinking, froze with her glass in hand.
The unhesitating display of affection startled even the onlookers. The man who had kissed her turned away with a calm expression. Amidst the chatter of the gathering, only Blair struggled to steady her heated breath. Even if it was merely an act to mark her as his wife, her heart beat wildly of its own accord.
Why did her chest tremble so much over a mere touch of lips to cheek? He'd done far more with her…
"Hello?"
The sudden unfamiliar voice snapped Blair back to her senses. Marcel, the Countess's younger brother, had taken the seat beside her and was smiling softly.
This man, approaching without a care for Edmund's kiss meant to mark his territory, was no ordinary fellow either.
"Ah... um... Hello."
"I'm Marcel."
"...I'm Blair. Nice to meet you."
Marcel grinned and extended his hand. After a moment's hesitation, Blair placed her gloved hand over his. This unyielding Brucken man tilted his head back and kissed the back of her hand. Her gaze, flustered by this seemingly trivial greeting, drifted toward the door.
"Brucken... Do you know it? It's beautiful. The sea, the streets."
"Yes, I've heard. They say it's a truly wonderful place, fitting for a nation of artists. I'd love to visit someday."
"You're welcome. And..."
Marcel continued haltingly in his clumsy common language.
"You are beautiful too."
"...Ah."
"Like... hmm, a painting..."
"A painting? Like a painting?"
"Yes. You're beautiful like a painting."
Blair swore she wasn't the least bit flustered. It was just that the compliment, like something from a child who'd just learned the language, made her smile involuntarily.
"Thank you. Um... Marcel, are you married?"
"No. I don't have a girlfriend either."
He answered promptly, as if he'd been waiting for the question. Blair forced an awkward smile and continued.
"As you know, I have a husband. I appreciate the compliment, but it might cause some misunderstanding with him."
"...Don't understand. Common language is difficult."
"So, my husband might misunderstand."
"Brucken is open-minded. Lovers possible. You can have me."
"Huh?"
"You and me, it's possible."
"What?"
When her eyes widened, Marcel laughed out loud, finding Blair's reaction amusing. His attitude made it hard to tell if he was joking or serious, so she just gave a hollow laugh.
"This is Genoa, Marcel. It's not allowed."
"Too bad."
"You're a wonderful person, so you'll meet someone good."
"Come visit. Brucken.”
"I will. It's a place I've always been curious about, so I definitely want to..."
Blair, who had been continuing to speak, suddenly felt a piercing gaze on her profile and turned her head. At the same moment, she froze stiffly. Edmund, who had returned from the smoking room at some point, was leaning against a nearby sofa, watching them. He tilted his wine glass leisurely, but his gaze was cold and settled.
For a moment, it felt like a mistake had been made. Blair didn't think her behavior was terribly wrong, but she feared the polite conversation they'd exchanged might appear distorted in Edmund's eyes.
"...Marcel, it was a pleasure talking with you. Excuse me for a moment."
"See you next time."
Blair quickly wrapped up the conversation and rose from her seat. Leaving the impetuous Bruckener behind, she approached Edmund.
"Edmund."
Having just emptied his glass, Edmund set it down on a nearby table and fixed his gaze on Blair. His slightly twisted, moist lips, mirroring his mood, caught her attention.
"How long have you been here?"
"Well, since the moment I thought your laughter was a bit excessive?"
The man answered with a rising inflection, letting out a short chuckle. Blair met Edmund's gaze cautiously as he continued in a low voice.
"Why don't you finish your conversation? You seemed to be enjoying yourself."
"...You’re here. And I was merely being polite to the Countess's brother."
"You don't deny it."
A heavy silence settled. While the surrounding guests chattered and laughed, only the two of them maintained a chilly tension. Confused, Blair tightened her grip on the glass, her fingers digging into it.
Was this part of the act too? Edmund always moved by calculation, so to play along with him, she had to apologize. It was the only way to gracefully extricate herself from this situation.
But his inscrutable gaze was unbearable. Blair's occasional flashes of defiance suddenly erupted.
"I enjoyed it, actually."
Edmund, who had been pouring wine from the bottle, paused his movement and looked at Blair slowly. Regret washed over her belatedly, but it was already too late. He set the bottle down, a faint sneer on his lips. A flicker of something passed through his eyes, visible between his slowly blinking eyelids as he looked at her.
"I see. "
"......"
"What was so enjoyable about a man you couldn't even communicate with?"
"Must it be words? There are other ways to connect—the heart, the gaze. There are plenty of ways to understand each other."
"Ah. So you mean physical intimacy worked well."
Well, that certainly doesn't require a language barrier. Edmund's lips curved into a humorless smile.
"It's fortunate I returned from the smoking room quickly. Otherwise, I might have witnessed my wife's infidelity."
"...What did you say?"
"Judging by accepting the invitation to Brucken, it seems you were already prepared."
"I repeat, I accepted it out of courtesy."
"Then consider your priorities. No matter how enjoyable it was, I hope you haven't forgotten you are my wife now."
Blair finally fell silent. So that was why this man was angry. He wasn't jealous of her and Marcel; he was warning her to avoid embarrassing him in public.
The fleeting hope she'd felt cooled instantly. She'd been mistaken again. Edmund had simply prioritized his dignity over fleeting emotions. Knowing this clearly, she felt foolish for letting herself be swayed by him.
"...I'm sorry. I'll be more careful from now on."
Finally offering an apology, Blair avoided Edmund's eyes, lowering her gaze and biting her lower lip. He was right. Careless laughter could often lead to misunderstandings. Exchanging smiles with another man while her husband, who valued his dignity, was present—it must have made her look like a reckless wife.
After watching her for a moment, Edmund turned away. He went straight to the Count of Gillingham and said he had urgent business and needed to leave with his wife first.
Though bewildered, Blair followed Edmund out of the host’s townhouse. A downpour was pouring from the darkening night sky.
***
Even as the carriage moved, the two exchanged not a word. The air was thick with tension, taut and sharp. Fortunately or unfortunately, the sound of rain beating fiercely against the car windows broke the awkward silence.
"Sir, this heavy rain is unusual. What shall we do? Continue driving?"
The driver, having slowed considerably, frowned at the rain blurring his vision before glancing at Edmund in the mirror and asking. Blair, who had been staring at the fierce downpour outside the window, glanced sideways to gauge his reaction.
"We must send a telegram to Eldenvale."
Edmund gave the order without hesitation.
"Turn the car around. We'll stay at Chiles tonight."
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