HBTF 28

Chapter: 28

Are You Coming Or Not?

Kishin was examining the list of actors belonging to the Sapphire Rose Troupe. Lately, the higher-ups had been showing an unusually strong curiosity in this matter, which was giving him a headache.

The rumor that a spy might have infiltrated the famous troupe seemed to be quite the stimulating gossip for those with too much time on their hands. Or perhaps…

‘If there’s another reason, that would be troublesome in its own way.’

As he was deep in thought, fully absorbed, one of his subordinates began to get on his nerves. The subordinate was holding a box in each hand, wearing an awkward expression.

The moment their eyes met, the subordinate looked relieved and quickly approached.

“Thank goodness. You’re finally acknowledging me. I wasn’t sure what to do since you weren’t responding no matter how many times I called.”

The subordinate placed the two boxes side by side on the edge of Kishin’s desk.

Kishin’s neat forehead furrowed even deeper.

“What is this?”

“A gift from Miss Classie.”

At the mention of Classie’s name, Kishin’s forehead didn’t just furrow—it completely crumpled. The subordinate instinctively shrank back.

“I’m sorry. She just asked me to pass it along. If it were anyone else, I would’ve refused or put it in storage, but… I mean, she’s…”

The subordinate hesitated, then cautiously added:

“She’s someone you like, right, Vice-Captain?”

Kishin’s forehead was already as crumpled as it could get, so it couldn’t contort any further. If it had been possible, the subordinate would have realized his slip of the tongue and run off then and there.

Kishin held his breath and stared at the subordinate before rubbing his forehead.

‘So I’ve been completely misunderstood.’

Back when Dernick had sent a bouquet to Meren, Meren had returned it to Kishin by mistake, having confused their names. Kishin had then mistakenly believed the bouquet from the Kalashi estate had come from Classie.

After a few incidents, Dernick and Kishin had cleared up the misunderstanding. But it seemed his subordinates hadn’t let it go.

To this day, the guards still believed Kishin had sent Classie a bouquet twice, and that she had returned it both times.

And just a few days ago, Classie had even come to Kishin’s office, deepening the misunderstanding even further. But explaining all this messy backstory was a hassle.

The quiet Kishin couldn’t be bothered to give a detailed explanation, so he simply said:

“I understand.”

That answer only deepened the subordinate’s misunderstanding. He’s not denying it! He must really like her!

Kishin, now examining the two boxes in turn, didn’t notice the change in the subordinate’s expression.

“But why are there two boxes?”

He asked while inspecting the nearly identical boxes. The subordinate, looking slightly excited, answered:

“One is for you, Vice-Captain, and the other is for Sir Dernick.”

“Dernick?”

“Yes. She said it’s because you and Sir Dernick are close, so she prepared two. Ah! She also said to tell you she’s sorry. The one with the silver ribbon is yours, and the plain one is for Sir Dernick.”

Getting messages secondhand like this was always troublesome. Kishin looked up at the subordinate with cold eyes.

“Is that everything? You didn’t leave anything out?”

He and Classie were already on bad terms. Though there was a brief period where things had gone well, it all fell apart once Classie started juggling two or maybe even three lovers.

Anyway, since Classie had done something she should apologize for, it made sense for her to send a gift to make amends. But why was she sending one to Dernick? He couldn’t understand.

The subordinate, looking puzzled, replied,
“No, there was no such message.”

Kishin asked directly,
“She didn’t say to deliver anything to Dernick?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“All right. You may leave.”

As soon as the subordinate left, Kishin opened both boxes himself.

They weren’t sealed shut or meticulously wrapped—he just had to lift the lids.

Kishin still suspected the subordinate. There was no reason for Classie to entrust him with a gift meant for Dernick without explanation.

Inside were cakes that were currently trendy among the older nobility.

Both cakes had the same design and flavor. But only one of them—the one without a ribbon, supposedly for Dernick—had a letter inside.

“……”

But even after finding the letter, Kishin hesitated, thinking it improper for a gentleman to read a lady’s private correspondence.

Still, he was curious. Deeply, painfully curious.

After much internal debate, he chose his investigator’s instinct. Kishin took out the letter and unfolded it.

[Sir Dernick, would you come to my house on December 20th and have dinner with me?]

Kishin tore the letter in half without even realizing it.

By the time he caught himself, the letter had already been split in two, with each hand holding a half.

* * *

By December 19th, there was still no reply from Dernick about whether he would accept the invitation or not.

“He must be busy. Maybe he won’t come tomorrow.”

Classie murmured, disheartened, over dinner.

Dernick’s visit was essential—only then could she leave the estate while leaving Merran behind. Without Dernick, slipping away became much harder.

Classie thought of Florence. What if she went to Florence’s house first, got ready to go out there, and then headed to the Grand Duke’s estate?

But Florence was a newlywed. Showing up unannounced and preparing to go out at her place would definitely be rude.

‘Should I send someone ahead discreetly to ask if she could help me?’

Classie glanced at Merran. Surprisingly, Merran was smiling.

Her heart sank. Did she figure out my plan?

“If he weren’t coming, he’d have sent word. The fact that he hasn’t said anything means he plans to come.”

Merran answered confidently. Thankfully, she hadn’t caught on to Classie’s plan.

But Classie couldn’t quite agree with her.

“That’s not always the case. Some people don’t respond even when they’re turning you down.”

She said, thinking of Kishin.

Merran replied bluntly, “Then that person’s just rude.”

“But—”

Just in case, Classie tried to continue, but Merran cut in, her mood souring.

“Auntie, I know you don’t like Sir Dernick. But stop saying bad things about him to me. If you keep doing that, I’ll get mad.”

“What bad things did I say?”

“You’re making him out to be an ill-mannered person.”

Classie forced a smile.

“There’s been no answer from Lord Dernick. I’m just worried you’ll be hurt if you believe he’s coming tomorrow and he doesn’t show up. Wouldn’t it be better to make other plans just in case?”

Merran replied curtly, slamming her fork down with a clatter.

“Lord Dernick wouldn’t do that. He’s not that kind of person.”

Fine. Do as you please. Classie no longer felt like warning Merran out of goodwill.

If Dernick did show up tomorrow, as confidently expected by Merran, it would be good for Classie too. And even if he didn’t, Classie planned to leave the mansion before then, so it didn’t really matter.

Not wanting to exchange any more sharp words, Classie quietly continued her meal.

* * *

December 20.

Classie got up early in the morning and began preparing to go out. Merran didn’t bother her—she herself was busy preparing to receive Dernick.

When they entered the dining room for a simple breakfast of bread, butter, and jam, they ran into each other, both halfway dressed up.

Merran wore an openly annoyed expression.

“Aunt, you were so sure Lord Dernick wouldn’t come. Why are you getting so dressed up?”

She seemed to think Classie was trying to impress Dernick with her appearance.

Classie found Merran’s reaction odd. Merran had never cared much before about how she dressed.

‘Why is she suddenly getting annoyed like this?’

In truth, it was because Merran had learned Dernick’s age during a conversation with him.

Classie had said she and Merran were “only five years apart,” but Merran had always thought of it as “a whole five years.” And Dernick’s age just happened to fall exactly between theirs—three years older than Merran, two years younger than Classie.

After realizing that, Merran began disliking the idea of Classie acting like a young noblewoman around him.

Merran wished Classie would behave like a proper lady when she was around her—like the mature, elegant, and caring guardian figure that her friends’ aunts were.

But Classie didn’t know any of this, so her niece’s inexplicable crankiness just left her irritated.

‘Dernick didn’t reply at all—why take that out on me?’

“Whether he comes or not, there’s no harm in being ready. I can just go out immediately if he doesn’t.”

Merran didn’t answer. Classie said nothing more, stuffed the rest of the bread in her mouth, and went back to her room.

When it was time to go out, Classie left the house alone, without Merran.

Merran noticed from the window while reading a book.

The nanny, Karen, asked worriedly,

“Lady Classie is always beautiful, but she looks especially radiant today. Where could she be going all dressed up like that? Shouldn’t you follow her, miss?”

Normally, Merran would have rushed out the moment Classie left the house so glamorously dressed—knowing she might be going to find a potential suitor.

“It’s fine.”

But today, Merran wanted to stay and wait for Dernick instead.

Karen was still anxious.

“She’s dressed like that—it must be some party. What if she actually finds a real marriage candidate?”

“What would be the point? Marriages are arranged by guardians anyway. Just a whisper of my aunt’s reputation to the other family, and they’ll turn her down.”

Merran replied indifferently, but then suddenly stood up, having spotted something. A carriage was coming through the main gate. Her face lit up.

“It’s Lord Dernick!”

* * *