âAs I said in advance, the person is not the Charles Killholder.â
Surprised by the unexpected words, Catherine asked back.
âNot him?â
âMiriam Chen. You know, right? Count Chen, who monopolizes the trade route of the Cortapus Great Wall. Sheâs going to be that old manâs wife.â
Miriam Chen is an old man who is over 60 years old this year and has only three ex-wives and ten famous lovers. But she couldnât believe that Anne was going to be such an old manâs wife.
âThat kidâs pride would never allow it.â
âThe old man seemed to have fallen in love with Anne and showered her with gifts such as villas and jewelry. Sheâs back to being obsessed with money. She had encountered wealth unmatched by the Killholder family, so she fell for it.â
âItâs ridiculous. Count Miriam is the man who seduced two young noble ladies in that way.â
And before the girls turned twenty-five, they all got divorced.
Maggie pulled out a cigarette from a flashy red leather bag. She skillfully lit the tip of a cigarette and let out the smoke.
âAnne is confident. You know right, Sister? That all she has is a face and the confidence that comes from it. Since she threw her sister aside and seduced Charles Killholder, her self-esteem has skyrocketed. Even if sheâs over forty, she thinks she can still control that old man or something.â
Catherine refused the pack of cigarettes Maggie had given her. Maggie raised her eyebrows as if it was strange.
With a small nod, Maggie shook off the cigarette ash.
âOf course, I donât feel very good about my sisterâs changeâ But here, Anneâs wedding invitation.â
A luxurious paper letter was taken out from the back of the bag where Maggie took out the cigarette case. As soon as she saw the seal on the letter, Catherine crumpled her forehead roughly.
How could she give her such a thing?
Just because she wasnât interested in Charles didnât mean she completely brushed off even the slightest feelings for Anne.
Aside from anything else, Catherine didnât want to see Anneâs face again for now. Catherine, who became calm in everything, might slap Anne again.
âIâm stealing about five and giving them out to the people who are her enemies. Who knows? Who will come out and make a mess?â
Maggie pushed the wedding invitation onto the table and handed it over. Catherine lifted the wedding invitation with her two fingers as if picking up dirty trash. And she threw it in the drawer next to the fireplace.
âWas your relationship that bad?â
Hmm. Maggie inhaled a cigarette and laughed.
âIt turned my heart upside down. To be honest, I wish my sister had ruined the wedding by striking out the salonâs well-known ladies.â
That was the real purpose.
Itâs a pity for Maggie, but there was only one thing Catherine could say.
Maggie crumpled her forehead as if she couldnât understand.
âWhat do you mean? So this mansion? Isnât that the mansion the ladies of the salon saved?â
âYeah. I got this mansion and everything in it on my own, and Iâm struggling a bit thanks to it.â
Maggie, who had a puzzled face, rubbed a cigarette into the crystal glass.
âAhaâ Something was strange from the beginning. If it were those women, they wouldnât have saved such a shabby mansion.â
How much effort did she put into making that messy mansion a livable place for people?
It was a story she couldnât even relate to. So Catherine asked about her most curious thing.
âI was curiousâhow did you get here?â
âHow do I know? Of course, I knew it after reading the newspaper!â
Ah, damn it. That freaking Christopher newspaper.
While Catherine touched her forehead, Rose brought a hot towel and placed it on Maggieâs feet. Catherine wanted her to say something strange about Maggie, so she quickly sent Rose out.
âHm. I just figure it out. I stopped by Christopher since I had a banquet that night, but that article was published that day. âMiss Phanya, who came from a faraway place to Christopher a month ago, had a scandal with a famous Paladin,â so I thought it was my sister.â
Maggie closed her eyes and rested both feet on the towel as if the tiredness had been released.
Maggie, who had been muttering to herself, fell helplessly on the sofa like melted ice cream. Just looking at it, she was tired because she was wearing shoes that made her ankles hurt.
Catherine put a blanket on her lap and left the drawing-room.
The first time she realized this was when she went on a spring vacation to Phanya alone. More precisely, in the spring she met Percyville in Phanya.
It was the day when pure acacia petals in full bloom fell.
âYou have to do well even without me.â
At Catherineâs words, Percyville turned his head.
Water from the end of wet hair flows along the cheek and gathers at the end of the chin. Perhaps because the face was a painting, the shape of water dripping was also art itself. Catherine continued, taking off the acacia petals that were half-covered over the brim of the hat.
âJust taking off your top and bathing in the stream like now.â
âWhere are you going to be sold?â
In a low voice, he asked. It was the expression that said, âWhere the heck are you going to be sold?â
âWell. My faces are half-half so if I put them out, they will be sold well.â
Shaking off the water in his ear, Percyvilleâs steps turned towards Catherine. Although the day was getting warmer, it was still a time when a cold wind blew.
Catherine has never seen anyone wash in a stream in this weather.
Of course, Percyville was a man with strong limbs and a famous paladin, and he was only getting his upper body wet, but even that was great in Catherineâs eyes. His face, dripping with water as he drew closer, was dotted with nervous emotions.
A week ago. Before she knew Percyville properly, she would have questioned why he was easily angry at trivial things.
But now she had a good grasp of what kind of person he was. He is not genuinely angry, but his sincerity is only a little rough because he has been rolling for a long time between the devils and the knights.
âAre you going to get revenge on the guy who sold me?â
It was windy. Because the string under the chin was loosened, the hat flew away even though it was a trivial wind.
Catherine hurriedly stretched out her arms and tried to grab the string and brim of the hat that was about to be completely released. But her attempt was blocked in vain. This is because a cautious yet tough hard force grabbed the wrist.
The hat flew like a butterfly and fell under a crooked rock.
âLet go of me, youâre going to break my hand.â
There was a strong smell of grass. His soft brown hair shook against the backdrop of a watercolor-like indigo sky.
Drops of water at the tip of Percyvilleâs chin fell over Catherineâs cheek.
âYouâre very bad at jokes. To the point where I want to grab your neck and eat it.â
âSpeak nicely, Percyville. Canât you do that?â
She tried to get out of the way, but Percyville didnât seem to intend to.
He looked into Catherineâs eyes with a cold gaze. His white, exposed upper body was left with old-looking cuts here and there. Even if she pretended to be nothing on the outside, she felt very strange touching a manâs bare body.
âIt was a word my mother used to say.â
Every time she heard it, she could hear his lips popping out of his mouth.
When you have a mother like this, you have to learn properly. If you do that, Catherine, you will be mocked in the absence of your mother.
Even if she doesnât have a mother, she can do it well, right?
The nuances were subtly different, but they were all words of latent anxiety. Thanks to this, Catherine has developed a habit of going to sleep after checking her motherâs room once every night as an excuse to say goodbye to her. Although now that sheâs gone.
âWhy did you keep saying that?â
âIâve got a boyfriend, so I guess I was thinking of running away from you at night.â
Percyvilleâs voice didnât show any interest.
Catherine gently pushed his chest using her free left arm. The muscles that touched her bare hands were surprisingly hard. Of course, Percyville didnât move.
âMy mother will find me a lover. And Iâll have to agree proudly in front of my father.â (Iâm not sure about this;;)
âIâm not curious about your family affairs, so close your mouth.â
âBut my father wouldnât have said anything. Because he has something heâs been doing too.â
Tsk. With the sound of a clicking tongue, Percyville finally got up.
He turned around and walked toward the shirt he had thrown away. Perhaps because she saw Percyvilleâs back muscles, she thought she shouldnât bother him too much.
The long neck bones that ran under her short hair somehow seemed thicker than her wrists. Catherine said, staring at the white cloth wrapped just above his wet body.
âAnd Iâm afraid of my mother more than anyone else.â
âCanât you hear âshut upâ?â
âI feel a little weird. Youâre the first to talk like this, Sir Percyville.â
He turned his head and met her eyes. Catherine smiled at him, which was fresher than a wide field. Who can tell about such a poor family history? Everyone knew the story, but no one said anything in front of Catherine. Itâs because the rich ladies in her social circle, who are considered her best friends, took pity on her.