A Summer With Bitter Rivals - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: We Were a Good Match

The next day, Emeline stepped outside, holding the parasol handed to her by a servant.

She had one activity she was allowed and enjoyed—her sole escape and hobby.

It was her weekly visit to the bookstore.

After losing her chance to attend university and being released from confinement, Emeline had begged her father to grant her this small freedom, which he had reluctantly agreed to.

Without these outings, Emeline would have long been consumed by emptiness, both in body and soul—even more than she already was.

‘The weather is perfect today.’

Reaching the mansion’s gates, Emeline glared at the tree near the wall where Zenon had leaned not long ago before boarding her carriage.

She watched the passing scenery from the moving carriage window, and before she knew it, they had arrived at her destination.

Located in a quieter alley of Elvarto’s bustling downtown area was a three-story bookstore Emeline often visited.

The place had a slightly shabby look, with the faint scent of dust permeating the shop, but Emeline loved its calm atmosphere. She had been coming here for four years.

“Welcome.”

When she opened the door—a combination of wood and glass—a bell with a small metal bird attached jingled softly. The shop owner greeted her warmly.

With a polite nod and a faint smile, Emeline stepped inside.

Climbing the familiar stairs to the second floor, she began browsing the shelves in earnest.

Emeline scanned the book titles carefully, picking up anything that caught her eye and flipping through its pages. She indulged in her leisurely hobby.

For a moment, her mood soured as her fiancé’s recent dismissive remark came to mind—something about her reading books that were “too advanced.”

‘Ah, this one’s newly published.’

As she browsed, she spotted the name of an author she had recently taken an interest in. Her face brightened, and she reached out for the book but hesitated.

The shelf was much too high. Even standing on her tiptoes, she couldn’t reach it.

With a sigh, she reluctantly lowered her hand.

Just as she was about to give up, a large hand appeared from behind her and easily retrieved the book.

A low, smooth voice sounded behind her.

“This one?”

Hearing the familiar voice, Emeline’s heart dropped.

Startled, she tilted her head back and saw a tall man looking down at her.

Emeline froze, shocked to encounter this man here of all places.

Noticing her reaction, the man tilted his head curiously before casually reaching for another book nearby.

The slow, deliberate motion carried the faint scent of a rich cigar—the very thing he had sworn to quit entirely to gain Emeline’s favor in the past.

“If it’s not that one… how about this?”

The voice brought Emeline back to her senses.

Trapped between the bookshelf and the broad-shouldered man, she quickly sidestepped into the open space next to her, her heart racing.

Looking up, she glared at Zenon.

“What do you think you’re doing? This is highly improper.”

“Hmm, calling a helping hand improper feels a bit harsh,” Zenon replied with a faint smile, entirely unbothered.

Emeline stared at him in disbelief. “Then you should have offered your help and stepped aside. Isn’t it rude to trap a lady between bookshelves while reaching for a book?”

“I knew you’d refuse if I asked. So, I acted accordingly.”

Zenon’s nonchalant response made Emeline’s expression darken.

“Just to be clear… you didn’t follow me here, did you?”

“Of course not. I was browsing for a gift, and then you appeared, Lady Delzeier. But are you not taking this book?”

Zenon smiled brightly as he gestured toward the book.

Gift? Emeline noticed the small, gold-embossed gift bag hanging from his wrist. Judging by the section he had been browsing earlier, it seemed he wasn’t lying.

Still eyeing him warily, Emeline replied icily, “I appreciate your help, but I have no need for your charity.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Letting out an uneasy sigh, Emeline wondered why she had to encounter him here of all places.

Accusing him of following her felt wrong. After all, it was Zenon who had introduced her to this bookstore during their late-night wanderings years ago. Emeline had only started visiting after learning about it from him.

The heavy sound of footsteps echoed behind her.

Feeling an odd presence, Emeline turned around.

“…Excuse me, why are you following me?”

“Following you? I’m simply heading to my usual section. It happens to be in the same direction.”

Zenon gestured toward the area she was walking toward. Unfortunately, the two shared similar tastes in books.

Seeing the slightly annoyed look in his eyes, Emeline found herself at a loss for words.

‘At least he’s speaking politely. Maybe he’s trying to maintain some boundaries…’

Deciding to ignore him, she refocused on browsing the shelves.

“That one’s not very good.”

“……”

“The author’s gone senile.”

“……”

“Oh, and that one’s a total waste of money.”

Zenon’s incessant commentary made it impossible for Emeline to concentrate.

Finally, she snapped the book she was holding shut and turned to face him.

Zenon, who had been following closely, suddenly veered toward a nearby shelf, pretending to browse.

“Lord Trancium.”

“Yes, why do you call me?”

Zenon, who had been pretending to read a book, returned it to the shelf and looked at Emeline.

She frowned and retorted sharply, “What exactly are you trying to do? You suddenly showed up last time, and now you’re pretending to be friendly. Do you think we’re close enough for that?”

“We’re not close at all. But may I ask you something?”

“No.”

“If you answer my question, then I’ll answer yours.”

Emeline clamped her mouth shut and stared at him. Knowing her silence meant consent, Zenon smirked.

He was wearing the same mischievous smile Emeline remembered.

“Out of all the bookstores in the city, why did you come to this one? Were you perhaps reminiscing about our memories?”

“…Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I do something so pointless? What memories do we even have to reminisce about?”

Emeline’s frown deepened. Her expression made it clear she found the very thought appalling.

Zenon watched her reaction and twisted his lips into a peculiar smile.

“Is that so? Well, I suppose that makes sense. Pointless, childish, absurd, regretful, even… something you’d want to forget the moment you remember it. That’s how it feels, doesn’t it?”

As his tone grew colder, Emeline’s gaze wavered slightly. It felt as though a dagger had struck her chest, but she forced herself to answer calmly.

“Yes.”

Zenon lowered his head and let out a dry chuckle. When he looked up again, his eyes carried a crooked mischievousness.

“Then it’s my turn to answer now, isn’t it?”

With those words, Zenon slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. Seeing Emeline’s frown deepen, he smirked.

Smoke billowed from the lit cigar he placed in his mouth.

Even though he knew she hated it—even though he had once quit smoking entirely for her—Zenon took a long drag and exhaled deliberately in front of her, as if to provoke her.

Tilting his head slightly, he said, “Last time, I thought maybe we could talk. As for today, like I said, I just came to buy a book and happened to run into you. The person I’m gifting it to is quite close with you. Quite the coincidence, isn’t it?”

Emeline raised her eyebrows in doubt at his words.

Answering her casually with his insolent demeanor, Zenon suddenly seemed to recall something, and a deep smile spread across his face. That smile swept away Emeline’s doubts, leaving them forgotten like smoke dissipating in the air.

“Oh, I should answer that, too. That kiss from the other night… it’s because seeing you again reminded me of old times. We were a good match back then. In mind, and in body.”

“Ha…”

“Should I be honest? I think we could still be a good match. If only I hadn’t thought about this just now.”

Zenon waved the lit cigar lazily.

The wisps of smoke lazily blurred Emeline’s vision, fading and reappearing repeatedly.

“You’re insane…”

His shameless comments and provocations made Emeline’s lips and hands tremble. Her heart pounded heavily, almost as if she were reliving old wounds.

“Move.”

Shoving Zenon aside, she stormed toward the exit. Any desire to browse or buy books had completely vanished.

She could feel his gaze following her as she left, but he didn’t say a word or try to stop her. Somehow, that silence hurt even more.

Emeline descended the stairs in a rush, unable to calm her erratic steps. She was just about to leave the bookstore when the shopkeeper called out to her.

“Miss, please take this with you.”

The shopkeeper hurriedly handed her a package wrapped in transparent paper.

‘This is…’

It was a book.

The author was Kaven Shotrimmer, a foreign humanities writer Emeline had once adored.

As she stared blankly at the book, the shopkeeper smiled warmly and explained.

“It was published just a month ago. It hasn’t been translated yet, and it’s so popular that it’s hard to find. But somehow, someone managed to get a copy and asked me to give it to you.”

“…Who?”

“Didn’t you meet upstairs? He left this book with me and seemed genuinely pleased when you arrived shortly after. It’s probably been a while since you two met—did you have a chance to catch up?”

“Ah…”

Emeline opened her mouth but couldn’t find the words. In the end, she simply nodded.

This bookstore was filled with memories of her and Zenon. Even the shopkeeper knew their faces and was happy to see them after a long time apart.

‘Wait a minute… Could that gift he mentioned earlier have been this book?’

The thought crossed her mind but was quickly dismissed. She remembered seeing a separate, neatly wrapped gift bag in Zenon’s hand. He had said he came to buy a gift, not to leave one with the shopkeeper.

His comments had nothing to do with this book.

‘And he said the recipient of his gift is someone close to me.’

An uneasy feeling crept over Emeline.

Who was Zenon planning to gift a book to, and what was the meaning behind it?