HBTF 12

Chapter: 12

Insult and Bouquet

“What is that supposed to mean? Stop spreading nonsense?”

Classie couldn’t immediately understand Kishin’s words. Her mind grew muddled.

“What are you talking about…?”

As Classie stammered, Kishin’s eyes narrowed.

The gaze she had once found cold yet beautiful now felt terrifying, and she averted her eyes.

“I despise high society, Miss Classie. There are too many people there who create rumors as they please, exaggerate them as they please, and enjoy them as they please.”

At some point, the carriage had come to a stop. With a single motion, Kishin opened the carriage door as if signaling her to leave.

Classie clenched her skirt, looking at him desperately. She still couldn’t understand his words.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

She tried to summon the courage to explain, but when their eyes met, she gave up. She realized that no matter what she said, Kishin wouldn’t believe her.

It had been the same when they first met. No matter what his friend Dernickk said beside him, Kishin hadn’t believed a single word.

Classie had been drawn to that unwavering nature of his. Yet now, the very trait that had captivated her had become a dagger aimed at her.

“Today… wasn’t fun.”

“That’s a relief. There won’t be another date between us, after all.”

“Still, I liked it.”

“…!”

“Take care.”

In the end, Classie simply bid him farewell before stepping out of the carriage. Without looking back, she ran.

She sprinted past the front gate and up the main stairs in a single breath. A passing butler, startled, widened his eyes.

“My lady? Are you alright?”

The butler approached her in concern, but Classie only shook her head before darting up the stairs like a nimble squirrel.

If she stopped even for a moment, she feared the tears would burst forth.

As soon as she entered her bedroom, Classie threw herself onto the bed and finally sobbed out loud. It was the kind of sorrow that could make anyone watching feel a lump in their throat.

But it lasted only five minutes.

After crying her heart out for exactly five minutes, Classie wiped her tears, washed her face, and composed herself.

By the time she fixed her hair and stepped out of the room, Anna didn’t even notice that she had been crying.

“My lady, did you have fun? Why did that man call for you?”

“Just something about a past matter. Nothing important.”

Classie answered indifferently and asked Anna to bring her a sweet dessert.

Once Anna left for the kitchen, Classie went to the third-floor terrace, sat on the rocking chair, and gazed up at the sky in thought.

‘Getting rejected dozens of times does have its advantages. Five minutes of sadness, and I’m fine again.’

Was she some kind of breakup expert now?

As she reflected on how unnaturally well-trained her heart had become in dealing with separation, she suddenly recalled the man Kishin had sent on an errand.

He was probably a guard as well. He wasn’t as strikingly handsome as Kishin, but he had a fairly neat face.

He seemed like a kind person. He didn’t waver even in front of Merran’s face…

Her wounded heart suddenly began to idealize this nameless guard, and soon enough, her thoughts even extended to Dernickk.

Fortunately, Dernickk’s terrible first impression had been so strong that not even her current mood could romanticize him.

But thinking about Dernickk made her curious about something else.

‘What were Merran and Dernickk doing while I was gone? Did Dernickk confess to Merran? Would Sir Kishin and Dernickk end up fighting over her?’

Classie tried to imagine how it would feel to have two men fight over her but stopped herself in frustration—it was too humiliating to even entertain.

‘Forget it. Sir Kishin, Dernickk—I’ll just forget them both.’

However, during dinner, Merran, of all people, brought up the very topic Classie had just managed to push from her mind.

“So, did you have a good date with Sir Kishin without me?”

And for some reason, her tone was oddly ambiguous. It sounded annoyed, but at the same time, amused.

Classie, feeling indignant, deliberately gave a vague response.

“It’s a secret.”

Merran pouted. She seemed genuinely upset that Classie was keeping something from her.

“I’ve told Aunt so many times that I don’t like it, but why does she keep trying to meet men? Can’t you just give up on marriage already? Do you like men that much? Do you like them more than me?”

For some reason, she was unusually upfront about her displeasure this time.

Clank—

Annoyed, Classie put her fork down with a loud noise.

“I’ve never even been in a relationship before. I’ve never dated, so why should I give up before even trying?”

“Because you tried so hard and still never managed to?”

“Why are you interfering in my love life? Why don’t you give up, Merran? You won’t give up, so why should I?”

“Because I’m popular?”

“……”

“Don’t be too upset, Aunt. Kids are naturally like me. They hate it when their parents remarry.”

“This isn’t a remarriage. And you’re not my child.”

“Might as well be.”

Frustrated, Classie picked up her fork again—then put it down with another clank.

“No, it’s different. And if I never get married, what happens to my inheritance? You expect me to just give it up?”

“When Grandpa and Grandma pass away, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. What are you so worried about? You think I won’t be able to support you?”

Classie was absolutely furious.

To make matters worse, Anna passed by and remarked, “In a way, it’s quite admirable.” Her admiration only stoked Classie’s anger further.

‘Calm down. I’m the adult here, no matter the age difference. I need to keep my composure.’

She silently repeated a prayer dozens of times and forcibly changed the subject.

“What about you? Had a nice date?”

“What date?”

Merran replied indifferently, just as she always did when the topic of men came up. But today, something was different. Her voice was sulky as usual, but there was a faint smile on her face.

‘Huh?’

Classie immediately noticed the change. This time, her curiosity was genuine.

‘What’s this? Did she actually get along with Dernickk?’

* * *

A Few Hours Earlier

Merran had brought “Kishin” to the sitting room in her quarters.

“Sir Kishin, the reason I wanted to meet you separately is to make things clear.”

She perched on a single-seat sofa and got straight to the point.

If he had business with her, he should speak to her directly—there was no need to involve her aunt. She intended to make that absolutely clear.

However, before she could even say anything further, “Kishin” suddenly burst into loud laughter.

What’s so funny?

Watching him laugh alone at some unknown amusement, Merran felt increasingly annoyed. She was used to leading the conversation with her wit, not being the subject of someone else’s laughter.

“Why are you laughing?”

She asked bluntly, her displeasure evident.

“Kishin” grinned and replied, “No, no, go on. What is it that you want to make clear?”

Merran’s irritation grew.

She didn’t like how this man, who seemed to be around her age, kept talking to her like she was a child.

‘He may know my mother, but just how big is the age gap between us?’

Merran sneered inwardly and cautioned herself.

“You came because I sent back the bouquet, right? I don’t mind that you came. But if you have something to say, I’d prefer if you called for me directly from now on. Don’t go through my aunt.”

Merran stopped mid-sentence. ‘Kishin’ was grinning slyly again.

She let out a scoff in disbelief. She had never met such an unpleasant man before. Why was he smirking to himself while she was speaking?

“Hmm. Alright. But I can’t grant your request, Lady Merran.”

On top of that, ‘Kishin’ outright refused her polite request. Merran’s irritation quickly escalated to anger. A request? This was common courtesy for any well-mannered person!

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not Kishin.”

The fury that had been boiling over instantly cooled, as if doused with cold water.

“…….”

Merran blinked, failing to process his words right away.

“What?”

When she belatedly asked again, Dernick placed a hand over his chest and bowed like a knight.

“I forgot to introduce myself earlier. My name is Dernick, daughter of Lady Mary. Kishin is the name of the friend who came with me.”

“!”

Merran’s face turned bright red in an instant—a rare occurrence.

Dernick, seeing her reaction, burst into laughter again.

“Lady Mary’s daughter is quite adorable. But why did you assume I was Kishin?”

Merran pursed her lips and glared at him.

Her misunderstanding was inevitable. When she went to the guards, they told her that Lord Kishin had summoned her.

Then this man appeared. Naturally, she had assumed he was Kishin.

But to laugh at her like this! She had thought he was a strange man before, but today, he seemed downright mischievous. Making someone feel this embarrassed over a simple mistake was just cruel.

And yet… for some reason, she didn’t entirely dislike the way he smiled while teasing her.

Merran had never been this flustered by anyone before. Even now, he felt… refreshing.

She stole a glance at his strikingly handsome profile, then pursed her lips and turned away with a pout.

“It’s not my fault. When I went to the guards, everyone said Lord Kishin had called for me. And then you appeared.”

* * *

Thinking back to the incident a few hours ago, Merran found herself smiling unconsciously.

But when her eyes met Classie’s, who was watching her with curiosity, she quickly erased her expression.

“It wasn’t a date.”

She firmly cut off any assumptions and resumed her meal.

Classie wasn’t fooled. She had practically raised Merran—there was no way she couldn’t read her.

Still, when it came to her personal affairs, Merran was notoriously tight-lipped.

Besides, Classie didn’t particularly care whether her annoying little niece was dating or not. In fact, sometimes she wished Merran would get married first—then at least she’d stop meddling in Classie’s love life.

Of course, that was only if Merran’s husband was a kind and decent man.

“Alright.”

Classie rested her chin on her hand, deciding to drop the subject.

‘Fine. Whether it’s Dernick, Kishin, or some ridiculous love triangle, I don’t care anymore.’

That was when—

“Lady Classie, a bouquet has arrived for you.”

The butler entered the kitchen, carrying an enormous bouquet in both arms.

Classie instinctively took the flowers, completely bewildered.

“A bouquet? From who?”

Merran’s gaze immediately sharpened.

“Who sent it?”

The butler pointed to the center of the bouquet.

“A guard delivered it. There was a letter attached.”

Classie spotted an ivory-colored card nestled between the lilies and roses, her expression hardening as she pulled it out. At the bottom of the card, a name was signed—‘Kishin.’

‘Is this a joke? He said we wouldn’t see each other again, so why send flowers now?’

Frowning, Classie tore open the card.