HBTF 2

Chapter:  2

: The Man Who Says He Is Not a Bad Person

“Count Albert.”

Classie turned around, resigned, and informed them.

‘You won again today. That man too, did it, Mereen.’

Florence, watching the situation from a distance, signaled, ‘Hold on. Don’t leave.’

But what was the use of holding on when she knew it wouldn’t matter?

Count Albert had already lost himself in Merran since she had come over calling out “Aunt!”

Classie knew this all too well; it was something she had experienced countless times.

Men would show interest in Classie’s appearance, but once Merran approached, her beautiful blonde hair flowing, shouting “Aunt!”, half of them would turn their attention away from Classie and become captivated by Merran.

About half of them would continue to watch Classie, but even they would be drawn away as soon as Merran called out “Aunt, Aunt” a few times.

Young men like Albert, who were around Merran’s age, would be softened by her calling her “Aunt,” naturally treating Classie as part of the older generation.

Even if Classie explained, ‘I’m only five years older than her! I may be Merran’s aunt, but I’m practically like an older sister!’ it didn’t change anything.

Instead, the atmosphere would become even more awkward. The young men would gaze at Classie as if looking at a family elder desperately trying to appear younger.

Merran was as beautiful as an angel descending by the lakeside, making the first impression of “Merran’s Aunt” difficult to shake off.

Giving up entirely, Classie staggered over to Florence.

“I’ll head back now.”

Florence’s husband, who was aware of everything, awkwardly greeted her and stepped aside.

As Florence’s husband moved away, she sharply asked Classie while playfully poking her with a small pudding spoon, “Merran’s starting again. When did she even come? I told you to leave her behind, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t bring her. She came on her own.”

“I told you not to tell her where we were going.”

“I didn’t say anything. She figured it out on her own. I didn’t even know she was coming. She must have just arrived.”

Florence clicked her tongue and glared at Merran.

Classie also turned her head to look, and Merran was already dancing with Count Albert.

Count Albert had completely forgotten about Classie.

Florence cursed under her breath, “Why is your niece like that? Why does she interfere every time you get involved with a man? She shouldn’t have to do that! Isn’t there something a bit off about her taste?”

“She doesn’t want me to get married.”

“Why?”

“She said she doesn’t want me to marry another man because she feels I’m like a mother to her. If I must, she wants me to do it later than her.”

“Is she crazy? Why are you her mother? What’s the age difference between you and her? She’s older than my younger sister.”

Classie sighed.

“I’ve been her guardian since she was eleven, so that’s probably why she feels that way. At that age, a five-year difference feels significant.”

Florence seemed like she wanted to say something more to Classie, probably to insult Merran.

However, Classie didn’t want to speak ill of her niece in front of others. Unless someone understood the situation like Florence did, they would likely view Classie unfavorably for criticizing her niece. Complaining about Merran here would only amount to spitting in her own face.

Classie shook her head in complete exhaustion.

“Thanks for today. See you later.”

Classie quickly left the estate before Florence could grab her and headed towards where her carriage was waiting.

The coachman, who had been chatting and playing with the other coachmen, quickly grabbed the whip and mounted the driver’s seat when Classie approached.

“You’re here early, milady?”

“It was boring.”

“Lady Merran just went inside. Why not join in?”

“That’s exactly why it got more boring.”

Thinking Classie was joking, the coachman burst into laughter.

As Classie got into the carriage, the coachman slowly began to drive again. Classie sighed, watching the slowly moving scenery outside the window.

Originally, Classie had been quite a popular girl in her hometown. Boys and girls her age, as well as adults, liked her a lot.

This was all before she took on the responsibility of her five-year-younger niece, Merran, after her older sister, Mari, passed away.

Classie was the only one present when Mary died. To be precise, she was the only survivor of the accident that claimed Mari’s life.

All the guards and coachmen who had been with Classie and Mary died that day in the so-called ‘carriage accident,’ including her older sister, Mary.

Only Classie survived.

And this dramatic survival attached horrifying rumors to Classie. People found it strange that Classie, who had returned alone at just sixteen years old, had done so.

The rumors began because Classie stated, “My sister died in a carriage accident,” but the investigators contradicted her statement, making the rumors even stronger.

The investigators confirmed that the guards and coachmen had indeed died in a carriage accident, but they claimed that Classie’s sister had died from a fall.

To protect their sixteen-year-old daughter, Classie’s parents fabricated a story that she had sustained serious injuries, rendering her unable to move, and forced her to rest at home for three months.

Thanks to this, Classie was not summoned by the investigators, but she also lost the chance to suppress the rumors.

Even with her capable diplomatic parents, the immense fortune she would inherit, her position as the youngest daughter of a Count, and her beautiful appearance, Classie still had not found an engagement partner, all because of that rumor from nine years ago.

‘Damn imperial law…’

In truth, Classie did not have the desire to get married and build a family or share true love with someone.

However, as a noble, marriage was a necessity. The cursed imperial law stipulated that only married children could inherit their parents’ wealth and titles.

In the end, when Classie turned twenty-five, she resolved to move away to escape the rumors.

Fortunately, her best friend Florence’s husband had found a job at the Imperial court, and they were moving to the capital, so Classie decided to leave her hometown with them.

Florence, who despised Merran intensely, was all excitement in the moving carriage, making all sorts of promises to Classie.

“There are hardly any locals in the capital, just like us. But it’s okay. Once my husband starts working at the Imperial Court, he’ll have many colleagues and superiors. I’ll have to socialize with their families too. Once I build relationships with the noblewomen in the capital, I’ll take you to parties. We can look for a suitable match there. Nobility is swarming in the capital, so there will surely be some good unmarried men, guys who, like you, have their reasons for not getting married.”

Classie found herself caught up in Florence’s buoyant mood.

Breathing in the damp air from the rain, she pressed down her racing heart.

Since her first and last visit to the capital ten years ago, Classie had never left her hometown again.

Florence had bought a white, pristine mansion.

Classie rented a pink mansion next to Florence’s for five years.

Although it wasn’t as vast as Florence’s new home—where one would need to ride a carriage from the front gate to the main entrance— it was a suitable size for Classie to live with a few servants.

While the laborers unloaded travel bags from the baggage cart and the maids scurried around cleaning, Classie felt so elated.

She had already started cleaning a month before moving, so the inside of the house quickly became tidy.

Entering the largest bedroom on the second floor, where she would be staying, Classie threw open the window and cheered.

From there, she could see the grand palace and tall spires clearly in the not-so-far distance.

Further away were the sharp towers and columns of temples, luxuriously lined up, steeped in all sorts of stories.

Beyond the white roofs of the temples, the sun spread reddish hues across the sky.

Classie was thrilled that she would be living away from Merran for the first time in nine years. She felt guilty for regarding poor Merran as a nuisance, but part of her was undeniably happy.

Merran was twenty years old now, after all.

After a leisurely bath in the large bathroom, Classie burrowed into the blanket, smelling of laundry soap.

However, the next day, when Classie woke up happily and threw on a light robe to head to the living room, she froze.

Merran was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, sipping coffee. Behind her stood Karen, Merran’s former nanny, wearing an awkward smile.

“Aunt, I’ve decided to stay here too.”

Merran set down her coffee cup, shrugged her shoulders, and smiled shyly.

“Don’t worry; I got permission from Aunt Rize. Karen came with me, too.”

This happened three months ago.

Classie shuddered.

‘Second sister sent Merran my way because she found it bothersome to take care of her.’

Classie thought of her second sister, who was nine months pregnant and had two-year-old twins.

Sighing, Classie shifted her gaze back out the window of the carriage.

But at that moment, with a loud jerk, the carriage shook violently and came to a halt.

Classie lurched forward, her forehead crashing hard against the front of the carriage, then bounced back.

“What’s going on?”

Classie pressed her throbbing forehead and shouted over to the driver’s seat. It was rare, but such things happened occasionally when riding in a carriage.

“……”

However, there was no response.

“Ledon?”

Classie called out louder, staring at the driver’s seat.

The carriage had shaken violently, but a shock like that wouldn’t kill someone. She knew from experience.

Moreover, she didn’t hear the sound of the driver being thrown aside. So why was there no answer?

“Ledon?”

Classie called again and opened the partition window separating the driver’s seat from the inside of the carriage.

She gasped, nearly screaming.

The driver had fainted, his head drooping, and a blood-soaked man was sitting in the driver’s seat, holding the whip.

“!”

Startled, Classie grabbed her umbrella and aimed it toward the driver’s seat window.

The man sensed her presence, glanced back with wide eyes, ducked quickly to avoid the umbrella, and swiftly snatched it away from Classie. Meanwhile, he still managed to keep one hand on the whip to steer the carriage.

But he seemed distracted, continuously glancing back at Classie.

At that moment, she quickly gave up on the umbrella and pulled out a sturdy perfume bottle from her handbag.

As she prepared to throw it, the man spoke urgently.

“Lady, please don’t throw that. I only took the carriage in a hurry. I’m not a bad person.”