31 ❖ ❖ ❖
“That’s right, my lord.”
As Vivienne replied, she leaned forward to pick up her fork. But before she could, a steward approached and replaced it for her.
Vivienne’s cheeks flushed briefly with embarrassment as she became conscious of the habit she had picked up after stepping outside for a short while on her birthday last year.
“You looked like you were having a good time with your friend.”
At Edmund’s comment, Vivienne straightened her posture.
“Yes. It’s thanks to the considerate host, who invited Madison’s fellow reporters as well. Because of that, I was able to reunite with an old friend and spend a pleasant time.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Something about the way Edmund’s reply had grown curt made Vivienne’s brows knit almost imperceptibly.
Still, she paid it no mind and continued her meal in front of him with impeccable etiquette, as if nothing had unsettled her. She wanted to prove that she was not shaken in the least.
Calming her racing thoughts, Vivienne tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“I heard this party was for couples.”
She was about to ask whom he had come with.
Before she could, Edmund spoke.
“If gatherings like this aren’t designed that way, they tend to become rather… disorderly.”
“….”
Vivienne tried not to dwell too much on the word disorderly. No matter what he said, her thoughts kept drifting back to what had happened on the bed in his estate, which felt unfair.
Her gaze shifted to Edmund’s wrist as he began eating the food on his plate.
His flawless table manners—perfectly suited to hers—were certainly noteworthy, but what truly caught her eye was his cufflink.
“Where did you get that?”
At her question, Edmund lifted his head and met her gaze.
Vivienne’s eyes flicked away for a moment, but she gathered her courage, looked back at him, and repeated herself.
“That cufflink.”
“I bought it. Why?”
The answer came as though he had been waiting for the question. Vivienne shook her head.
“That’s not true.”
As she said this, she recalled the words she had once spoken to Harvey Carne Cole, the regional director of the Institute, inside the Langston limousine.
“A royal blue sapphire, exquisitely cut by a master craftsman, topped with carved ivory—one of the very few of its kind in the Empire. The plate is pure silver.”
It had been polished differently from when she had given it to him, the ivory ground down and buffed to a sheen atop the gemstone, but Vivienne recognized her family’s jewelry all the same.
It was something she had given him as a gift.
If he was wearing it now, that meant he had expected to see her here. And if he had even anticipated whom she would arrive with, then this man was already several steps ahead of Ludvig.
“…So you know.”
The man knew why she had not contacted him all this time.
And it seemed he had come back to reclaim what was his.
To understand his true purpose, it was enough to look at his fourth finger.
The ring there was one they had exchanged together at dawn in the count’s estate, when she had been in his arms. Even now, he still wore it.
And yet, seeing the arrogant way he displayed his identity without the slightest hesitation, a thought suddenly struck her.
He had pretended to be an agent, but he had never truly been one. The kind, thoughtful man she had believed in—gentle except for his manner of speech—had been nothing more than his disguise, and her illusion.
Perhaps her belief that he was her savior had simply been her own desire to escape all of this… or a longing for those fleeting moments they had shared back then.
And if his true identity matched what she suspected—
Vivienne remembered what she had once said to him at the count’s estate.
What she had said about the leader of the underworld.
“I’ll meet him. I’ll tempt him with sweet words, saying I’d abandon my family—even my brother—for his sake.”
“And then?”
“I’ll kill him.”
Vivienne stared blankly at the food before her.
The fork scraped against the plate with a strange, grating sound.
Her voice continued inside her thoughts.
“With my own hands.”
This time, the fork slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the table. Edmund’s gaze shifted to her hand.
Vivienne wanted to flee somewhere—anywhere—to catch her breath and steady her heart, but she knew she couldn’t. She must not let him see that she knew everything.
He likely knew it all already—why she hadn’t contacted him, and perhaps every truth surrounding that choice—but neither of them had spoken it aloud yet.
And yet, paradoxically, she was drawn to him. The realization that he was alive brought a tiny sprout of relief deep within her heart.
Even if he had deceived her and mocked her sincerity.
She had always felt guilty for seeing him as an agent.
He had known everything and yet said nothing to protect his business. And still, now that he stood before her, she felt as though she might lose her mind.
When she thought of how he had wanted her while appearing as a count, it almost felt as though her love for the “agent” had finally been returned.
“No.”
Vivienne gripped her fork again and admonished herself.
She couldn’t let her guard down, not even a little.
“Do you have a reason to believe that I lied?”
Edmund continued, as if clarifying.
“About what I said—that I bought this cufflink.”
“….”
Vivienne couldn’t answer. If she did, she would have to reveal how much she knew. Edmund went on.
“My future father-in-law, the marquis, prefers a wealthy son-in-law, so I put some thought into it. Why do you think my words are a lie? If you do, you should explain why.”
Vivienne felt like crying.
Just moments ago, she had been thinking about why she mustn’t say that she knew his identity—that the cufflink was something she had given the agent herself.
She lowered her gaze to her food and quietly surrendered.
“I must have been mistaken. I never meant to imply that you were lying, my lord.”
“Then we should get to the point.”
“….”
“Are we finished?”
He asked from across the table. Vivienne nodded and clutched her small pochette tightly. Then she said to him,
“I’ll return the ring in a quiet place. There are too many eyes here, and I’d rather not draw unnecessary attention from the press. As you heard earlier, there are many of Madison’s colleagues here. The host probably invited people like that for publicity.”
“Unlikely.”
At his slanted reply, Vivienne looked up at him as if to say, What would you know?—then backed down under his presence. He corrected her calmly.
“They didn’t invite them just for publicity.”
Vivienne recalled meeting Madison here, and how she had gotten even with Mrs. Hansbury, but she chose not to connect those events to Edmund’s words.
“Yes. If you say so, my lord.”
She set down her cutlery and rose from her seat.
“Come with me. There should be a lounge where I can return the ring quietly.”
“If you don’t want an engagement, then what about dating?”
At those words, Vivienne stopped short.
Dating.
Her heart raced—she had never once imagined herself dating him.
When he was an agent, she had been a young lady indebted to him. When he was a count, she had been a stain on his reputation, a guest hiding in his home. And if he was the boss of the underworld, then she herself would have been a target he needed to eliminate.
And yet… dating him?
As lovers, they could exchange kisses like ordinary people. Look into each other’s eyes in the morning.
On good days, they could walk hand in hand, side by side, and receive the same feelings in return.
They could talk for hours, and when night fell, she could even receive a kiss on the forehead.
And he was asking to share that kind of relationship—with her.
He knew exactly how to touch the weakest part of her heart.
Just as Ludvig had said, she had intended to continue her engagement. To move away from him, and never learn what those things felt like.
But this man seemed determined to barge into her life and shatter its fragile peace.
If someone who had never once shown affection were now to express interest—not in her body, but in her as a person—how could her heart not waver?
Is it really so easy for you to toy with a person’s heart… no, with their life?
Suppressing her true feelings, Vivienne forced herself to look at Edmund with as calm an expression as she could manage.
“I’ve decided to continue my engagement to Ludvig Rex. So I’m sorry, but I don’t think I have the time to date you—or be engaged to you. As I said, I’m a noblewoman, and procedures matter. Having you involved in my engagement would only become a blemish.”
Unbothered, Edmund picked up the neatly folded napkin on the table and wiped his hands without hesitation. As if he hadn’t listened to a single word she said, he spoke.
“Still, I’ll make you fall in love with me.”
Slowly, he lifted his head and swept his blue eyes over Vivienne, who stood opposite him.
“I’ll make you see me again.”
“….”
“Because I like you.”
Vivienne knew better than anyone that those words were spoken without any real emotion—meant only to shake her resolve.
