Rosalyn was heading to the garden in a bright yellow dress.
Her face was clearly tense with nerves.
“Are you that nervous, Lady Rosalyn?”
“Yes, a little.”
Seeing Rosalyn take deep breaths over and over, Lorna chuckled softly.
“Then how about we walk slowly to the garden?”
There was still some time left before lunch.
After a bit of thought, Rosalyn nodded.
As they approached a bench near the flowerbeds, a soft floral scent filled the air.
Rosalyn, gazing down at her legs that didn’t quite reach the ground, asked cautiously,
“Does the Young Duke like flowers?”
“No, not really. He’s sensitive to scents, so he doesn’t care much for them. You won’t find any vases in his study either.”
Lorna furrowed her brow slightly, as if recalling something.
Rosalyn lowered her gaze and murmured quietly, “I see.”
Seeing her suddenly downcast, Lorna tilted her head.
“What made you ask all of a sudden?”
“Well, giving flowers makes both the giver and the receiver feel good, right? So I thought of giving him a bouquet.”
Now that she knew Deon didn’t like flowers, there was no need to dwell on it.
It would just be thrown away anyway.
After a moment of silence, Lorna spoke up.
“But you know, sometimes the meaning of a gift changes depending on who gives it!”
—
‘It’s about time.’
Finishing up his paperwork in the study, Deon closed the file.
It was nearly time for the lunch he had promised with Rosalyn.
“That’ll be all for this morning, Berta.”
There were still thirty minutes left in the usual work schedule, yet Deon stood from his desk.
“You’re leaving already?”
Berta asked, surprised.
It was unlike Deon, who usually worked right up until the clock struck the hour.
Tilting his head slightly, Deon clicked his tongue.
“I can’t be late for an appointment. It’s the first meal I’ve been invited to by my daughter.”
“……”
“And reschedule the luncheon with Count Avantium for another day.”
He had postponed that meeting to keep his promise with Rosalyn.
With that, Deon grabbed his coat and left the study.
“Haa.”
Left alone, Berta stared at the closed door with a concerned look.
To be honest, she was worried about how things were going.
‘The Young Duke is taking quite a bit of interest in Lady Rosalyn.’
Not that it was a bad thing.
On the contrary, it was a welcome development.
It was far better for Rosalyn to receive his full attention than be neglected in the ducal household.
Harsh as it was, Rosalyn’s standing in the family depended entirely on how much interest Deon chose to show.
But… that interest wouldn’t last long.
Deon was notoriously fickle.
To him, this relationship was nothing more than a fleeting game of ‘playing family.’
“What worries me is that Lady Rosalyn might get hurt when that interest fades.”
What Berta feared was the aftermath—when Deon lost interest.
Would Rosalyn be able to handle what came then?
She knew she had no right to worry, since she had been the one to process all the paperwork that brought Rosalyn into the ducal house.
But maybe because of that, she couldn’t help but feel more concerned.
“…I hope it never comes to that.”
Her voice echoed quietly through the empty study.
***
The Arcas Ducal Garden.
Rosalyn was looking at the table with a heart full of anticipation.
Though clumsily arranged, a decent little bouquet was placed neatly on one side.
“Nice to meet you, Lady Rosalyn. I’m the head chef, Wolf.”
“Hello. …I know it was sudden, but thank you so much for preparing this so beautifully.”
“Not at all. I heard you’d be having your first meal with the Young Duke. For something like this, I’d be glad to help anytime.”
Wolf recalled the previous day.
Rosalyn had come down to the kitchen herself and asked if they could prepare a lunch to be enjoyed outdoors.
It was the kind of thing that could’ve been done with a single word, yet she looked so apologetic.
He found her earnestness both adorable and endearing, so he had poured his heart into making the meal.
“Well then, I hope you both enjoy your lunch. I’ll take my leave.”
“Thank you!”
Rosalyn bowed brightly.
‘She’s very polite, too.’
She was nothing like the other Arcas children.
After Wolf left, Rosalyn kept glancing toward the garden’s entrance.
There was still no sign of Deon arriving.
‘I hope he comes soon.’
The food might get cold.
Just as Rosalyn began to worry about the dishes, a familiar voice rang out.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rosalyn.”
“…Ah! Hello.”
Deon entered the garden.
He smiled and took the seat across from her, glancing over the food.
Everything was carefully prepared to suit Deon’s tastes.
“Thank you for inviting me to lunch.”
“N-not at all! I’m the one who should be thankful you accepted.”
Rosalyn shook her head quickly.
Her tense shoulders and slightly high-pitched voice gave away her nervousness.
Seeing her, Deon’s lips curved up slightly.
No matter how you looked at it, Rosalyn wasn’t like other children.
Rather than avoid him out of fear, she had taken the initiative to arrange this meeting.
‘She must have figured it out by now.’
She could be a bit awkward in her actions, but she was smart.
She was quite perceptive, too.
Surely by now she had at least some idea why she had been brought into the Arcas household.
She must’ve guessed that there was some reason Deon needed her.
And yet, instead of trying to use that to her advantage, the most she did was invite him to a meal.
It was… refreshing.
“Shall we talk while we eat? You looked worried the food might get cold.”
“Yes…!”
Flustered, Rosalyn moved quickly to grab her utensils.
Clink.
The fork slipped and fell onto the grass. Deon’s gaze followed it.
Gasp. It was small, but Rosalyn looked as if she had made a grave mistake, anxiously watching his face.
“Bring a new fork.”
“Yes, Young Duke.”
A nearby maid swiftly brought a spare fork.
“Ah… Thank you.”
Rosalyn let out a deep sigh of relief.
Really now—how could he not find that level of reaction amusing?
She didn’t realize it, but even the retainers of the house found her absolutely adorable behind her back.
“Hmm.”
She took a big bite of meat with a small child’s fork. For some reason, Deon couldn’t take his eyes off her.
‘I didn’t even know our house had forks like that.’
Even when children of branch families visited the mansion, they were never given smaller utensils—lest they throw a fit over it.
“Do you like it, Rosalyn?”
“Yes! It’s delicious!”
Her eyes sparkled as she answered with such enthusiasm that Deon momentarily lost his words, then chuckled softly.
“Eat as much as you like.”
“Yes, I hope it tastes good to you too, Young Duke!”
“Thank you. And what’s that over there?”
Deon tilted his head toward one end of the table.
“Oh.”
Rosalyn, as if suddenly remembering, paused and looked down.
There was a clumsily arranged bouquet.
Just big enough to fit into a vase.
It was clearly made from flowers picked straight from the garden.
Deon’s brow furrowed, displeased. Why was such a messy thing on the table?
“Um… this, uh, well…”
“It’s fine. Tell me.”
“I brought it as a gift for you… They said guests should be given a gift when they leave, so…”
“For me?”
“Yes. …I’m sorry. I’ll take it away right now.”
Rosalyn wore a tearful expression and quickly moved to remove the flowers.
So foolish. She already knew Deon disliked scented things. And a gift like this—plain and clumsy—was nothing like anything he’d ever received.
Rosalyn bit her lip tightly.
“So, it’s mine then?”
“…Pardon?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve gotten flowers. Looking at them now, they’re not bad.”
Deon reached out his hand.
When she awkwardly handed him the bouquet, he smiled and lightly sniffed it.
“Thank you, Rosalyn. You chose ones with just the right amount of fragrance.”
“…!”
“I’ll keep them safe.”
Rosalyn’s eyes widened in disbelief.
He was going to keep them. Not throw them away.
And soon, a bright smile bloomed on her face.
