HBTF 25

Chapter: 25

Why Does Someone Who Isn’t Interested Show Interest?

While traveling by carriage, Florence tried hard to figure out what kind of relationship Classie and Dernick had.

She asked this way and that way. She tried twisting her words and also asked directly—she truly employed every conversational tactic she knew.

Classie responded with consistent silence. Every now and then, she would mutter, “It’s not like that.”

Dernick, as usual, was just himself. He had always spoken freely however he wanted, so no matter how clever the tactics used on him were, he was unfazed.

When they arrived at Florence’s house, the butler greeted the three of them. He led Dernick to the guest room for men, and Classie went with Florence to the guest room for women.

Florence’s maids helped Classie change clothes.

Once she was seated in the bathtub filled with warm water, Florence practically pounced on her with questions, as if ready to dunk her in the water.

“What is going on between you and that man?”

“I told you, nothing. I already explained. Things got a bit complicated, and I got to know him while going back and forth with the guard station.”

“He’s a guard?”

“No, I don’t think so. His friend is a guard. I don’t even know his last name, Florence. I don’t know which family he belongs to or what he does.”

“Then you should’ve found out!”

Florence plopped a handful of soapy foam on Classie’s head. Classie pushed at Florence’s legs in protest.

“I’m not interested in that guy. So what if he’s from some family? I don’t care.”

“Well, he seems interested in you.”

“Don’t even say that.”

Classie made a gagging noise. Florence messed up her hair wildly.

“He seems like a decent guy. What’s the problem?”

Classie shuddered.

“A decent guy? Where?”

“His face.”

“…”

“He’s the best-looking guy you’ve ever been involved with. And from the way he keeps helping you, he seems to have a decent personality. Most of all, the way he looks at you—it’s really gentle.”

Classie kicked Florence out of the bathroom. As her friend fled, she splashed water at her, and Florence screamed and slammed the door behind her.

Still rubbing her unmoving leg, Classie pouted.

“Gentle look, my ass.”

* * *

After finishing her bath, changing clothes, and drying her wet hair, a maid came to escort her to the dining room. Classie grabbed her cane and went down the stairs.

Florence was already interrogating Dernick about his background. Classie glared at her as she entered, but Florence was completely unbothered.

Dernick watched the whole scene with a bright smile, and once the food was served and the maids had withdrawn, he spoke in a pleasant tone.

“They say good deeds bring blessings. It must be true. I helped Miss Classie, and now I’m getting such a wonderful meal at a lovely home.”

“You think our house is nice?”

Florence once again tried to probe Dernick. Classie tapped the hem of Florence’s skirt with the end of her cane, telling her to stop.

Thankfully, once the meal started, Florence didn’t ask any more questions. Classie was relieved that she finally seemed to have shaken off her curiosity.

“We’re out of pickled radish. Just a moment, I’ll go get some more.”

Then, all of a sudden during the meal, Florence stood up and said this.

“Call a maid.”

Classie looked confused. There were five maids standing by just to serve the meal. There was no reason for Florence to go to the kitchen herself.

But Florence added a bunch of nonsensical excuses, picked up a small bowl, and left the room herself.

Left alone with Dernick in an instant, Classie stared blankly at the arched doorway leading to the hallway, dumbfounded.

Only after an awkward silence dragged on did she realize that Florence had intentionally left her alone with Dernick and fled. Feeling caught off guard, Classie glanced at Dernick, who was sitting across from her. Since when had he been watching her like that? He was resting his chin in his hand, smiling as he looked at her.

—He’s the best-looking one, though.

For some reason, Florence’s excited voice echoed in her head. Classie awkwardly smiled, lowered her gaze, and grasped her fork. She knew why Florence was acting like this.

But that man was the one Merran liked.
Classie had no intention of pursuing someone Merran had a crush on.

Of course, even before Merran liked him, she had no intention of getting involved with Dernick.

If I told Florence that, she’d probably try to push Dernick on me even more. After all that Merran’s done over the years, she’d say it’s only fair to give it back to her.
But Merran’s goal was to ruin my marriage, not to actually date the guys she stole.

Classie sighed and poked at her half-eaten salad.

“Why the sigh?”

Had he been watching the whole time? Dernick suddenly spoke up.

“I think Florence has the wrong idea,” Classie replied, making an excuse as she set down her fork. Poking at food wasn’t good table manners.

“What kind of wrong idea?”

Dernick asked again, mischief clearly written all over his face. He acted like he knew exactly what Florence was thinking.

There was no use making excuses anymore, so Classie decided to be honest.

“She seems to think you and I are more than just friends. I’ve told her several times that we’re not, but she doesn’t believe me. Even if Florence acts strangely, please just ignore her.”

That should take care of things. Classie thought to herself and took a spoonful of her now-lukewarm soup.

“The Viscountess Heimer is quite perceptive.”

Then Dernick suddenly said something completely unexpected.

Classie froze with the spoon still in her mouth, lifting only her eyes. Dernick was still resting his chin in his hand, smiling.

“Excuse me?”

When Classie asked again, Dernick lowered his hand and repeated clearly:

“The Viscountess Immel is quite sharp. She instantly picked up on the fact that I’m interested in you, Miss Classie.”

In a situation like this, was she supposed to continue eating her soup or set her spoon down again? Classie had the spoon in her mouth and found herself frozen, unsure what to do.

It felt as if Dernick had kicked over the beehive in her head. That man… is interested in me? That man??

Classie thought of Merran. Merran had said things were going really well between her and Dernick. She had seemed thrilled, even mentioning talk of marriage.

Classie elegantly dabbed her lips with her handkerchief and glared at Dernick. She had thought no way, surely not—but was he seriously a player?

“Oh, Miss Classie.”

As Classie shot him a sharp look, Dernick clasped both hands over his chest and feigned surprise.

“Miss Classie is the first person to glare at me for saying I like you.”

His attitude only made him seem even more like a flirt. Classie furrowed her brows and spoke firmly,

“I don’t enjoy this kind of joke. I know you like to tease, but not about things like this. It’s just unpleasant.”

Then Dernick lowered his hands from his chest and replied with a more serious tone:

“I’m not joking. I really am interested in you. I think you and I would get along well.”

Classie grasped her water glass, trying to cool the irritation rising inside her. Until just moments ago, all she’d wanted was to clear up Florence’s misunderstanding.

But now that Dernick was acting like this out of the blue, she was even more flustered.nMerran was one thing, but Dernick—wasn’t he aware that Classie had asked Sir Kishin out on a date?

“Miss Classie, would you consider dating me?”

When Dernick asked that, Classie couldn’t hold it in anymore and shot back:

“You do know I asked Sir Kishin out on a date, right?”

“Of course I know.”

“And you’re still doing this?”

“You were rejected. That settles it, doesn’t it? I heard from Kishin. He said that if something doesn’t work out, you let go immediately. I’m the same. I don’t like clingy love. I think we’d be a good match.”

Classie’s mouth dropped open. But Dernick looked completely sincere. Classie felt a sting in her chest. She couldn’t understand either Kishin or Dernick.

‘Sir Kishin dumps me, then complains that I give up too quickly. And this guy comes asking me out the moment I get rejected by Sir Kishin. What kind of friendship is that supposed to be?’

Either way, Classie had no interest in Dernick—regardless of Merran or Kishin.

Classie debated. Should she refuse him by saying, Merran likes you, so I can’t?

But since Merran hadn’t confessed her feelings yet, it felt inappropriate for Classie to speak on her behalf behind her back.

After much consideration, Classie decided to be at least half-honest.

“I think you’re misunderstanding. I’m not interested in love or romance. Whether it’s a deep affection or something light, I just don’t care for it.”

Dernick raised his eyebrows.

“You say that, but you were pretty proactive with Kishin, weren’t you?”

“Our country’s law says we need parental approval to inherit family property through marriage. That’s why I was looking for a marriage partner.”

Am I being too honest? Classie’s cheeks flushed as she spoke. But there were plenty of other young nobles struggling with the same issue.

Usually, it was because their parents’ choice of spouse and their own love interests didn’t align.

‘Whatever. It’s over between Sir Kishin and me anyway. What’s the point of saving face?’

The hardest part was starting—once she began, the rest poured out. Classie decided to go all in and said everything, shamelessly.

“You know how our inheritance law works. The later I get married, the smaller my share of the inheritance becomes. Besides my late eldest sister, I have three older siblings, and all of them are already married.”

Noble children typically inherited wealth in two parts: one portion was what their parents left behind, and the other was inheritance pre-arranged by the family.

For instance, even before birth, Classie and her siblings were each assigned a share of 100 units of family inheritance. If she were an only child, she’d inherit all 100. If there were two of them, they’d split it—50 each.

Since Classie had four siblings, she secured 20 units of inheritance the moment she was born. This portion could be taken when she got married and became independent.

So when her eldest sister Mary got married and took her 20, did that mean the remaining 80 would be split among the rest?

No—there was a catch. If Mary had a child before the others got married, the remaining 80 would then have to be split again, including the new niece or nephew.

Of course, grandchildren had a lower share, but still, the inheritance that remaining siblings could take would shrink compared to what the first sibling took.

Classie’s original inheritance had already been severely reduced—thanks to her niece Merran, her second sister’s twins, her older brother’s son, and her younger brother’s daughter.

Now her second sister was pregnant again, and her older brothers were still young enough to have more kids.

Whenever Classie grumbled about her shrinking share, her second sister would smirk and say,

—We all went through the same thing when you were born unexpectedly.

Anyway, Classie didn’t want her share to shrink any further.

When Classie finished her long and painfully realistic explanation, Dernick was left speechless.

Classie, ears burning from embarrassment, fiddled with them as she muttered,

“It may seem calculating, but I can’t help it. If I don’t get married, even the little I have left will go to my siblings.”

But then—what on earth was this?

As soon as Classie finished talking, Dernick suddenly smiled even brighter and spread his arms wide.

“Miss Classie, we truly share the same values. I feel the same way. Though I’m an only child, so I don’t have to worry about that part.”

“…What?”

“I want my inheritance too! But I don’t want to marry someone my parents picked out. So Miss Classie, now that it’s come to this, how about we go for a contract marriage? With your credentials, I think even my parents would approve.”