Deceived, Yet Drawn to You - Chapter 5

For the first time in her life, a rebellious impulse had risen in Blair and escaped as sound, apart from her own will. She wasn’t the sort to openly reveal her feelings.

Was it because the man beside her was a complete stranger that she could express herself so honestly, unlike her usual self? Or perhaps it was the lingering haze of cigarette smoke clouding her mind.

“A marketplace.”

The man, who had until then exchanged only polite conversation, asked her a question.

“Then what is it that you, my lady, hope to gain from it?”

Lost in complicated feelings over her resentment toward her father, Blair raised her head. The man, his smile gone, looked down at her intently.

“I don’t even know what I could gain. I am the one placed in the center of the stand.”

Admitting she was neither buyer nor seller but merchandise, Blair gave a self-deprecating laugh. The man, with only the cigarette between his fingers, remained silent. His gray eyes, impossible to read, slanted down over her face. Conscious even of the act of blinking, Blair continued.

“I am from the northern domain, and it’s been nearly ten years since I last came to the capital, Borsa. Today’s banquet is practically my first social gathering.”

“And?”

“My father introduced me to several gentlemen, but truly, every one of them made me want to… run away.”

Searching for words to describe those loathsome men in the mildest way possible, Blair drew in a quiet breath.

“Without exaggeration, there must have been nearly twenty. After ten, I stopped counting.”

“I see.”

“The most unpleasant part was that one of them might become my fiancé.”

Avoiding the gaze she felt beside her, Blair leaned her arm on the railing. Staring at the quiet cityscape, she rubbed the shoulder exposed by her dress. It struck her then how close they were standing. Just as she became conscious of the warmth from his arm brushing hers, the man broke the silence.

“Do you have someone you are seeing?”

“No, no one.”

“Then did you hope for a marriage of love?”

“Not particularly… I never really thought about it. I always knew that someday I’d be bound in marriage to the man my father chose.”

“Unexpectedly rushed, and the men you were introduced to were unappealing. That, I understand.”

The man finished the words Blair had left unsaid and nodded as if in comprehension, lifting his cigarette. Smoke drifted faintly into the night air.

“In any case, that’s unfortunate.”

The lips that had been sealed like stone now curved with the faintest trace of humor. If she hadn’t been mistaken, his face now carried a hint of mischief.

“If you so dislike the engagement, I was about to suggest you run away with a lover.”

Blair let slip a laugh before she realized it. Run away? Ridiculous. That would be no different from following in the footsteps of her mother, who once fled in the dead of night with a stablehand.

She had no lover, but what difference would that make? Even if she vanished alone, everyone would claim she had eloped with some unknown man. Even her father.

Truly, she couldn’t help but laugh. She had lived her whole life never once imagining a relationship with a man, and now he spoke of running away.

“Yes… this is the first time I’ve regretted not having a lover to run away with.”

“A woman alone would face too many difficulties. You have my deepest sympathies.”

With a faint smile, the man exhaled a cloud of smoke and continued, “If you can’t escape, then perhaps take this as an opportunity to listen to what your will truly desires.”

“……”

“If you simply sit still upon the stand, you will always be treated as merchandise.”

Listening to his unusually deep voice, Blair tapped her fingertips lightly against the railing.

Her will. What did she truly want? If she could only stop this marriage where she was treated like an object to be bought and sold, would her life then become fulfilling?

At that moment, the man ground out the cigarette, leaving only the filter behind. Sensing the conversation coming to an end, Blair slowly turned back, glancing over her shoulder. Listening closely, she realized the obscene cries that had seeped faintly from the parlor no longer carried out.

Lifting her eyes, she saw the man’s expression was as calm as at the beginning. Perhaps, despite appearances, he was hard of hearing.

“I wish you luck in the days ahead.”

Leaving only that short farewell, he turned away without hesitation. Blair stared blankly at his broad back receding. Then, as if bewitched, she stepped closer and spoke.

“Sir.”

For some reason, she felt an anxious certainty that if he left the balcony, she would never see him again. His utterly detached, simple manner may have only fueled it.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.”

The man, hearing the unexpected words, turned back. His bluish-gray eyes, lowered slightly toward her, met hers in the air. Standing in place, he gazed at Blair steadily. She looked into that handsome face.

“And… thank you.”

The answer didn’t come quickly. Blair pressed her lips together. What should she add? Thank you for the advice? That she wished they might meet again? When she didn’t even know who he was?

She couldn’t quickly find words to continue, and so she could only gaze endlessly at the man who stood a few steps away.

His hair caught the cold moonlight and shone with a bluish tint. Neatly brushed back without a strand out of place, it revealed his prominent forehead and thick brows, and his sharply cut eyes. Transparent pupils that betrayed no emotion. In contrast, his lips, curved in a gentle, almost perfunctory line, moved.

“Think nothing of it.”

With a nod like a bow, the man turned once more. Perfectly polite, yet leaving behind only a formality. Blair stood rooted in place, her eyes fixed on him as he left the balcony.

***

Springtime Borsa was even more beautiful in the daytime. Looking down the street lined with cherry blossoms in full bloom, it seemed like an endless pink wave was rolling by. In Chails, the most prestigious district in the capital, the landscaping was especially lush and refined.

Through the window, that beautiful city served as a backdrop to Edmund’s face, which showed no trace of feeling.

Reclining lazily in an armchair, he lifted the cigarette between his fingers to his lips. He inhaled, then exhaled, watching the smoke rise toward the high ceiling. Then he drew in another breath and scattered the smoke again.

His gray eyes, filled with a heavy shadow, slid obliquely toward the uninvited guest who had just opened the library door.

“No matter how much I knocked, you gave no reply.”

The visitor, grumbling, set the doctor’s bag he always carried on the sofa opposite.

“I even sent a telegram in advance, saying I would visit on urgent business.”

Arriving without invitation was Benjamin, the young personal physician of House Libert, and Edmund’s childhood friend. He was also the only person who could freely come and go from Edmund’s townhouse. At least, until a few days ago.

Without shifting his posture, Edmund asked indifferently, “Who opened the door for you?”

“Your butler.”

“Then he has lost his well-paid post.”

Edmund had liked the man for being quiet, but defying his master’s orders to admit an uninvited guest meant he had to pay the price. Tossing the cigarette butt into the ashtray, Edmund took out another and lit it. He detested anyone who slipped beyond his control.

“If no one had opened the door, I said I’d bring a squad of young nurses from the Royal Hospital of Borsa under the excuse of your regular examination.”

Benjamin, not to be outdone, pushed back his damp hair, sweaty from knocking for so long. Edmund supposed that was his idea of a clever tactic, and since nothing was more unpleasant than letting a group of barely grown girls into his most private space, the butler must have had no choice but to turn the handle.

Clicking his tongue, Edmund watched as Benjamin pulled a small envelope from the doctor’s bag.

“Look it over.”

Edmund cast a disinterested glance at the envelope dropped on the coffee table before picking it up. Inside were half a dozen black-and-white photographs, each of a young woman dressed in lavish gowns.

“As you can guess, these are candidates for your bride, carefully chosen by the ducal house. Only ladies of good families, each with a clean reputation. Whichever one you put forth a marriage proposal to, you’ll receive an immediate acceptance.”

“They are all eager for you. The line of girls who want you stretches all the way to the Ridgeway docks.”

The tone, suggesting Edmund should feel fortunate, grated on him. Holding a cigarette between his teeth, he flipped through the photographs. Deliberately pretending to study them, he turned each one slowly, but the dryness in his gaze couldn’t be hidden.

After giving the faces a cursory look, Edmund tossed the stack onto the table. His once straight lips curled into a cold sneer.

“Not arousing in the slightest.”