A Summer With Bitter Rivals - Chapter 67

Chapter 67: The Third Party

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As he opened his mouth, white smoke spilled out in a thick cloud, which he observed with indifferent eyes.

The cicadas cried so loudly it was grating, and the heat from the sun made his head feel hot.

Turning his gaze toward the sun, which was gradually setting, he placed the cigar back between his lips.

The sound of the cigar tip burning in the air felt strangely out of place as he inhaled deeply.

Someone was approaching from behind. He didn’t bother turning around, but whoever it was had recognized him first and stopped beside him.

“…Are you still smoking?”

Mathis frowned in disapproval as he asked. In response, the man, who had been gazing into the distance without a care, turned his head toward Mathis.

“The longer you savor it, the richer the taste. That’s how cigars are meant to be enjoyed.”

A lazy smile curled his lips as he pulled the cigar away, white smoke dispersing around him. If anyone else had seen it, they might have found his relaxed yet dangerous smile intoxicating.

“Lord Trancium, why were you waiting for me?”

“Waiting…? You think I was?”

Zenon chuckled. Mathis found himself growing irritated at his mocking tone.

They had coincidentally met again as investors in Baron Fort’s relief project.

Throughout the meeting, as they discussed official matters with the gathered individuals, Zenon had quietly observed Mathis.

Yet at other times, he seemed completely indifferent, acting as if he wasn’t even aware of Mathis’s presence. His attitude fluctuated between watchful analysis and total disregard, making Mathis uneasy the entire time.

Zenon placed the cigar back in his mouth, looking off into the distance once more. Then, exhaling a dense stream of smoke, he suddenly spoke.

“Do you smoke?”

Ignoring Mathis’s question about waiting, he instead posed his own.

“I don’t.”

“Is that so? Then if possible, don’t ever start.”

The scent is strong, you know.

With a faint smile, he furrowed his brows slightly as he spoke. His expression seemed to carry a hint of self-mockery.

Mathis couldn’t quite understand his reasoning.

Just moments ago, this man had been enjoying a cigar for nearly an hour, claiming that the longer it burned, the richer the taste. And now, he was telling him not to smoke because of the smell?

It was an illogical contradiction, entirely in line with what Mathis had come to expect from Zenon Trancium.

As Mathis leaned casually against the wall beside him, he observed Zenon’s posture.

He didn’t look like someone simply enjoying solitude. Rather, the way he leaned against the wall and smoked alone gave off an air of quiet sorrow and bitterness.

Zenon, who had been staring into some unknown space, finally turned his gaze back to Mathis.

He removed the cigar from his lips and exhaled a slower, more controlled breath of smoke than before. This time, he released it in such a way that the smoke drifted away from Mathis.

Just as Mathis was about to comment on the unexpected consideration, Zenon spoke first.

“Aren’t you going to meet your fiancée later?”

He tilted the cigar downward between his fingers, as if ready to drop and crush it underfoot at any moment.

“…Why do you ask?”

Zenon parted his lips as if to answer, then closed them again without a word.

Instead of replying, he simply shifted his gaze elsewhere. Being ignored twice in a row, Mathis found himself speechless.

The last time they had met with Emeline, Zenon had been endlessly talkative. But now, his demeanor was entirely different.

‘What kind of rude person behaves like this?’

He seemed to lack even the slightest sense of etiquette.

Not only did he disregard people while they spoke, but he also never once removed his left hand from his pocket or put out his cigar from the beginning to the end of the conversation.

Deciding to shift focus, Mathis addressed the fact that Zenon had mentioned his fiancée.

Bringing up Emeline was something Mathis could not ignore. The more Zenon mentioned her, the more he felt an unsettling suspicion.

“Lord Trancium, I say this out of caution—if you harbor any personal interest in my fiancée, you should abandon it now.”

“…Ah, personal interest.”

“You should focus on your own fiancée. Stop interfering with someone else’s.”

Suddenly, Zenon laughed. His golden hair tilted downward for a moment before settling back in place.

“That’s my choice to make, Lord Renier. It’s not for you to interfere with.”

“Not for me to interfere with? Do you not realize how extremely rude your behavior is?”

“Not really. I don’t see any need to be polite. Besides, if Lady Delzeier were to waver, wouldn’t that be your problem?”

Zenon sneered continuously, and Mathis’s expression hardened at his attitude.

As he glared coldly at Zenon, the latter raised an eyebrow as if to say, Did I say anything wrong?

He was more reckless and insane than Mathis had imagined.

If he let Zenon approach his fiancée any further, it would undoubtedly lead to trouble. Mathis lowered his voice and warned him.

“Do you think I’m joking? Do not interfere in another person’s relationship just to indulge in your petty emotions.”

At that moment, Zenon paused. The ever-present smirk that had lingered on his lips vanished without a trace.

He straightened his posture.

Since he had been leaning against the wall, Mathis had been looking down at him. But now, as Zenon stood up straight, they were nearly at eye level.

Meeting Mathis’s gaze head-on, Zenon finally spoke, “…Petty emotions?”

The cigar hanging between Zenon’s fingers slipped to the ground. He let out a brief chuckle before coldly staring at Mathis.

“You could see it that way. But, Lord Renier, this isn’t an issue for a third party to interfere in. You wouldn’t understand.”

The thick scent of cigar smoke clung to him. Mathis met his gaze without flinching.

Perhaps finding their silent confrontation amusing, Zenon let out a low chuckle and stepped back.

“Then, could you stop interrupting my thoughts?”

As if irritated by Mathis’s attention, Zenon leaned back against the wall again. Though his cigar was gone, he stood there as if he could remain indefinitely, staring into the distance.

Mathis no longer felt inclined to continue the conversation.

Asking Zenon to explain his cryptic words would likely yield no satisfactory answer.

Before turning away, Mathis glanced in the direction Zenon had been staring at for so long.

A fruit stand selling peaches, with crates stacked high.

‘How absurd.’

Just what was this man thinking?

Mathis climbed into his carriage. He intended to review the documents he had received from the investment meeting, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Zenon’s words and actions.

The way Zenon’s expression had stiffened when Mathis accused him of playing petty emotional games. The way he dismissed Mathis as nothing more than a third party interfering.

It was puzzling.

Even if there was some past history between Zenon and Emeline, the past was just that—the past. What mattered was the present.

Right now, Emeline is Mathis’s fiancée. No way she would choose Zenon Trancium.

As long as their arrangement remained intact, nothing else mattered.

Then why did this situation feel so unsettling?

Mathis set the documents aside and gazed out the window, tapping his fingertips against the paper.

Why was this bothering him so much? Why did it continue to gnaw at him?

After some thought, he let out a quiet laugh.

The answer wasn’t far away. He already knew it.

He had begun to be drawn to her naturally, without even realizing it.

At first, he had seen her as a woman who simply went along with the flow of the world, like a doll.

But, unexpectedly, she would sometimes show a surprising level of initiative.

He knew her actions were driven by purpose—by the conditions of their arrangement.

Yet, even knowing that, he didn’t find it unpleasant.

She was an intriguing woman.

And he was well aware that his intrigue had grown into genuine interest and affection.

However, he had never expected it to go beyond that.

She was becoming an unexpected variable in his life. The woman Duke Delzeier had described to him had been docile and obedient.

Docile? Who?

What kind of meek woman would suggest strengthening their relationship by proposing a public kiss?

Mathis leaned his chin against his hand, resting on the carriage window. A slow, elegant smile spread across his lips.

It seemed the Duke had deceived him, but Mathis didn’t mind. He rather liked this version of her.

‘Zenon Trancium… He’s the only one to be cautious of.’

Whether his interest was a lingering obsession or a past mutual entanglement, Zenon was an unsettling presence.

‘I can’t let him take what’s mine. Not now that I’ve developed a personal stake in this.’

Cutting off his wandering thoughts, Mathis shifted his attention back to the documents in front of him.