A Summer With Bitter Rivals - Chapter 87

Chapter 87: Without a Doubt

After running through her thoughts quickly, Emeline immediately asked the maid, “You just got back from the hospital, didn’t you?”

“Yes, as soon as I confirmed he was no longer there, I came straight back to report to you, miss.”

Emeline drew a deep breath. Benica had said it seemed Zenon Trancium had been discharged just before she arrived.

Repeating that fact over and over in her mind, Emeline arrived at an impulsive decision—something she wouldn’t normally do.

She abruptly ordered the maid, “Get me ready to go out. Just simple assistance is enough, so you can come alone.”

“Pardon? Miss, going out…”

Benica responded in confusion.

It was clear that Emeline was trying to go see Zenon even now, but by the time she arrived, he would already be at the Marquis’s estate.

She had no public justification to visit the Marquis’s house.

Besides, the color of the sky was unstable—it looked like it might pour rain any moment. The weather didn’t look good.

But Emeline paid no mind and urged her forward.

“Hurry.”

It was a decision unlike her. But it only seemed that way because Benica didn’t know her well enough.

Whenever Zenon Trancium was involved, Emeline always lost her composure as if her mind had gone off track.

Four years ago, on a stormy day, she had come up with an absurd excuse to visit the Trancium estate just to see him.

When tensions between their families were high, and she saw him again after a long time, she had scolded a noblewoman from the same social circle for badmouthing him and stormed out.

Among noblewomen, friendships were typically strategic and beneficial.

Yet she, who had always coldly calculated her family’s advantage and followed her father’s lead, had done something so irrational.

In the end, Emeline was fated to be swept away by him.

He had been her dream, her sweet hope, her lover—and a traitor whose name was bitter even to speak.

Her feelings for him were far too overwhelming and complicated.

Dressed and with her hair neatly done, Emeline departed the mansion.

“Let’s go. We have to hurry.”

Just in case, she brought Benica with her and boarded the carriage.

Emeline gazed anxiously out the window the entire way.

She knew she might miss him by just a moment.

With rain imminent, he would likely hurry home and not come out again.

Still, he had said:

There’s been too much coincidence between us—it must be fate, or something inevitable.

Even among the dozens of students in the same lecture hall, they had always locked eyes as if on cue. Their paths kept crossing.

Whenever they didn’t want others to see them at their weakest, they always ran into each other.

‘Then we’ll meet.’

It wasn’t quite enough to be called fate, but with that belief, they had reunited at the bookstore.

So without a doubt, this time too.

As she was lost in thought, the carriage came to a stop.

Telling Benica to wait for a moment, Emeline stepped out alone.

From one block away, she looked toward the Trancium estate. She had purposely stopped the carriage at a distance to avoid drawing attention.

She had worried there might be a swarm of reporters outside the Trancium estate, following the noisy headlines, but fortunately, it was quiet.

Seeing the sparse passersby, Emeline cautiously approached the mansion, scanning her surroundings.

If anyone came out of the estate, she would have to quickly hide behind a wall or a tree.

Now and then, she wondered what she was doing. She was the type who always maintained her dignity, even when no one was watching.

Yet now she felt like a thief.

Even as she grumbled inwardly, Emeline observed the Marquis’s estate.

‘It’s quiet.’

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

She’d heard that many of the estate’s servants had taken part in Allen and Labore’s scheme to bring down the Marquis.

Most of them had likely been dismissed, which explained why the place seemed deserted.

Still, if Zenon—now being considered as the heir—had returned, wasn’t it oddly quiet?

‘He still hasn’t… arrived?’

Or had he arrived long ago?

Just as Emeline was peeking over the wall, raindrops began to fall.

As she stared wide-eyed at the sky, she realized she hadn’t brought an umbrella when she got off the carriage.

In fact, had she even packed one in the carriage in the first place? They had left in such a hurry that she had completely forgotten about it.

‘I can’t believe how stupid I am…’

Emeline stood blankly, staring at the Marquis’s estate.

She briefly considered waiting in the rain until she caught a cold, but if he had already returned home, it would all be in vain.

A quiet sigh escaped her, followed by lingering regret.

‘Still, you never know…’

Yes, the rain wasn’t too heavy yet. She could wait a bit longer.

If not now, it might become impossible to see him again. Someone recuperating wouldn’t be wandering around outside.

More importantly, he’d hurt his leg, so moving around must be difficult for him.

So if she didn’t see him now…

Emeline thought about her wedding, just a month or two away.

A wave of sorrow and loss surged up.

Realizing why she felt this way wasn’t difficult. She let out a hollow laugh. Her expression crumbled helplessly.

‘…You’re insane.’

You’ve gone completely mad, Emeline Delzeier.

It wasn’t enough to act recklessly—now she was hoping for something other than the marriage set before her.

Standing frozen in place, Emeline let out a trembling breath.

Her wet sleeves clung to her shoulders. In the ever-strengthening rain, her once-dry hair was now soaked.

Even though it was summer, the sun had vanished beneath the clouds, and her body began to shiver.

Standing there, motionless, Emeline realized she couldn’t wait any longer.

Maybe this time, fate hadn’t aligned for them…

Maybe from the beginning, she had been holding on to a foolish hope.

With a bitter thought, Emeline slowly turned to leave.

Then, something dark hovered over her head, shielding her. She instinctively stopped walking.

The cold touch of rain no longer reached her. In her downcast, heartbroken view, she saw the hem of someone’s light vest.

A familiar scent—roses and cigars—reached her.

Emeline took in a shaky breath and gradually looked up.

“…Emeline Delzeier, what are you doing here?”

The moment she heard his voice and saw his face, Emeline let out a gasp. An indescribable sense of relief and overwhelming emotion surged at once.

Holding an umbrella in one hand, with the other still in a splint, Zenon looked at her with a bewildered expression.

To her surprise, he was standing firmly on both legs, not appearing hindered at all.

Setting aside the questions that filled her mind, Emeline said, “You… I heard you were discharged today. That must’ve been a while ago—why are you only just getting back?”

Of course, she had waited for him—but realistically, the chances of running into him right as he returned were incredibly slim.

Zenon looked at her soaked clothes and hair before answering, “…You’d been sending flowers and fruit, so I thought I should show some appreciation. I went out to buy a gift.”

At his words, Emeline’s heart gave a great stir.

It wasn’t even anything special, so why did it affect her so much? Maybe it was just the sound of Zenon Trancium’s calm voice that brought her comfort.

She gave a small nod and opened her mouth to speak again.

But before she could say anything, she caught sight of someone familiar in the corner of her eye.

Emeline flinched. A man had just stepped out of a carriage and was opening an umbrella—Mathis Renier.

Unlike her and Zenon, who were off by the estate’s left wall, Mathis walked directly up to the front gate of the Marquis’s house and pressed the doorbell without hesitation.

‘Why is he here?’

Even before she could finish the thought, Mathis turned his head their way.

It was surely just coincidence, but Emeline panicked and turned her back. Unfortunately, that also meant she turned her back to Zenon.

“…Emeline.”

She desperately wished Mathis would just enter the house or get back in his carriage—anything.

Then she heard Zenon’s subdued voice.

“What are you doing? You came all the way here just to see me… so why are you turning your back again.”

She knew how strange this must look. But Emeline couldn’t bring herself to turn around.

She was about to explain that Mathis Renier was right there and ask for his understanding.

Then Zenon reached out with the hand holding the umbrella and grabbed her arm, turning her around.

With that motion, her body spun. For a split second, Emeline caught a glimpse of Zenon’s face—he looked upset, disappointed, and just a little hurt.

And the next moment, before she could react, his lips were on hers.

As he pressed forward, her back hit the cold wall. Their breaths tangled.

The sound of rain pouring from the gray sky pounded in her ears, and the umbrella barely shielding them tilted to the side.