HBTF 42

Chapter: 42

 The Son Announces His Marriage

“Sir Kishin? How are you here?”

Classie hadn’t expected Kishin to come this way. Wasn’t he supposed to be at the palace at this time—whether due to his inherited title, his personal one, or his profession?

“It’s the last day of the year. I wanted to spend it with you.”

Kishin expressed this sweet sentiment in a completely dry tone, then gestured with his eyes toward the mage bureau employee standing beside him.

Classie figured she’d talk to Kishin later and stepped forward to ask the bureau staff member first.

“Was there a message?”

“Yes.”

The mage bureau employee handed over two plain envelopes and left.

“Why are there two?”

Perplexed, Classie opened the first envelope and immediately pulled out the letter.

—I’m curious. I want to see you. Both of you. I’ll be heading there right away.

Classie smiled without meaning to. This was clearly a telegram from her parents—the message she had been waiting so long for.

Kishin leaned in with her to read the telegram and then asked,

“What does it say?”

Classie beamed and looked up at him, but when their eyes met and she saw the tenderness in his gaze, she lowered her head again.

“I told my parents about you. Since they’re abroad, I sent an urgent telegram so they’d know quickly. This must be their reply.”

“Then the ‘him’ mentioned here must be me.”

Classie looked up at Kishin again, half shy and half happy. She could see in his eyes just how joyful she looked.

Suddenly, the thought “By the way, did Sir Kishin tell his parents about me?” crossed her mind—but she decided to ask that another time. Today was a good day.

Instead, she pulled out the second telegram envelope.

“I’m not sure who this one is from. Who would even send me a telegram?”

Classie opened the envelope—and froze.

—Lize. Third child. Born today at 3 p.m. Healthy daughter. Take care.

This time, Kishin understood immediately too.

“Lize is your second sister, right? The one who was nine months pregnant. That makes this your sixth niece or nephew.”

Classie tried her best not to show how much she disliked the news, but her lips twitched despite herself.

“Come to think of it, she’s ten months along now. She was nine months when we first met.”

Classie folded the two telegrams together and stuffed them carelessly into her pocket.

Kishin watched her expression closely, seemed to understand the real issue, and asked,

“Is your mood ruined because your inheritance just shrank again?”

He seemed to recall a previous conversation. Classie nodded weakly.

“I’m so calculating, aren’t I?”

Kishin didn’t deny it. Though they had agreed to marry, he still didn’t seem to agree with Classie’s way of thinking.

“Honestly, if my younger sister Janette had a child, I think I’d be happy.”

“How many years apart are you two?”

“About eight years.”

“Oh, then of course you’d only feel happy. You’re going to get married before your sister, and after that, no matter how many kids she has, it won’t affect your inheritance. I was happy too—until I had two nieces.”

Classie snapped in frustration, and Kishin fell silent.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Classie apologized right away, upset at herself, but the mood had already turned sour.

“Young miss! Sir Kishin! It’s cold, come inside!”

Fortunately, Anna called from the doorway, breaking the tension.

“I’m sorry. You came all the way here… Let’s go in.”

Snapping out of it, Classie quickly grabbed Kishin’s hand and led him inside.

“But, Sir Kishin, are you sure it’s okay to be here? Don’t you have to attend the palace banquet? I heard it’s hard to skip.”

“I showed my face briefly and left. It’s fine.”

“You can just show your face and leave?”

“Yes. Dernick isn’t there either. Staying long would just be a hassle.”

“Is it the strict rules that make it a hassle?”

Wanting to brighten the mood, Classie feigned interest in the palace banquet. Kishin played along, and before long, the two were chatting comfortably again, the earlier quarrel forgotten.

That night, the butler lit a big fire in the fireplace, and two servants brought the sofa closer to the warmth. Kishin and Classie sat side by side, each wrapped in a blanket, basking in the fire’s heat.

Outside, the wind howled fiercely, but Classie didn’t feel cold at all.

The clock read 11:30 p.m.—just thirty minutes left before it would be the year 221. As the firewood crackled in the hearth, Classie quietly leaned her head against Kishin’s shoulder.

“!”

Kishin flinched slightly but didn’t move away. Holding her breath, Classie watched his reaction and asked softly,

“Should I move…?”

“No. It’s warm. I like it.”

Classie was flustered, her lips twitching into a smile she couldn’t stop.

‘I must look like such a fool, grinning like this.’

But happiness—true happiness—wasn’t something easily suppressed.

* * *

Classie wanted to stay with Kishin all night. But they weren’t married yet, and spending the night together wouldn’t be good for either of their reputations.

At 1 a.m., Kishin took her left hand and gently stroked the ring finger, the one wearing the ring he had given her.

When he kissed it, Anna, who had come to say goodbye, let out a shriek. After Kishin left, Anna, Classie, and the butler all grabbed hands and jumped up and down in place.

To them, Kishin was perfect—absolutely everything about him. Even after a long restful sleep, Classie was still giddy, rolling around on her bed, basking in yesterday’s floating joy.

“Young miss! Miss Florence is here!”

It was 11 a.m. when Anna called out, and only then did Classie climb out of bed. But since she and Florence were so close, she didn’t even bother changing—she simply opened the door as she was.

“Look at the state of you,” Florence said.

But Florence’s appearance was the complete opposite. She was dressed far too formally for someone just visiting a close friend’s house—let alone the house right next door.

“Why are you dressed so nicely?”

Classie asked in surprise.

Florence walked in, patting Classie’s shoulder with her fur hat.

“Well, I came straight from the palace.”

Classie hurriedly sat down on the sofa, still confused, and looked at her.

“Straight from the palace? Why? To give New Year’s greetings? You didn’t have to. You could’ve rested at home and come later. Or just asked me to visit instead.”

Still, despite her confusion, Classie had really wanted to see Florence. After all, wasn’t Florence the one who had helped her more than even her parents when it came to this engagement? She was eager to tell her that she’d been proposed to.

“Anyway, perfect timing. I’ve got something to tell you!”

Classie grabbed Florence’s hand—intentionally with her left—then exclaimed.

Florence didn’t even glance at the engagement ring on Classie’s finger. She just gave a knowing snort.

“You’re dating Sir Kishin, right?”

Classie was genuinely shocked.

“How did you know? Did Sir Kishin tell you?”

Florence’s expression dimmed. That reaction made Classie uneasy.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I went to the palace banquet and ran into the Marchioness of Gosville. More accurately—she deliberately approached me. Sir Kishin’s mother.”

Classie’s jaw dropped.

“Huh? Why? Why her?”

“She already knew you and Sir Kishin were romantically involved.”

“How did she find out? Did Sir Kishin tell her?”

Even before hearing the answer, Classie’s heart began pounding too fast for her to bear. She couldn’t take it and gulped down her tea in one go.

Florence clicked her tongue and continued,
“No. She said she saw you two having a secret meeting at the Grand Duke Siwil’s party.”

“It wasn’t a secret meeting…”

“Well, Sir Kishin’s the type who never gets involved with women, so I guess she got curious. But no matter how much she looked, your face was unfamiliar to her. Someone must have recognized you.”

Classie clenched the fabric of her skirt tightly. Cold sweat was about to break out. That meant…

“My rumors…”

“She seems to have heard them.”

It was something she would have to face eventually. She had prepared herself for the day it would come—but hearing it out loud still left her feeling overwhelmed and helpless.

Classie had wanted Kishin to hear this from her before his parents did. But the order had been reversed.

She had never meant to keep it from him—not truly. She just wanted to wait a little longer before telling him. And now, it had all come out so suddenly…

Classie tried to sip her tea again, but the cup was empty.

Florence reached out and held her hand tightly.

“Calm down. The marchioness asked me whether the rumors were true—and what kind of person I thought you were. She didn’t seem like the type to believe gossip blindly.”

Even hearing such hopeful words, Classie couldn’t settle down. She felt one of her legs starting to go numb again. A sharp tingle ran through it, then the strength left her limb and her body leaned to one side.

She clenched her fists and pounded her knees, biting her lips. Florence quickly moved over and pulled Classie into her arms.

“Don’t be upset. I told her everything. That you didn’t even want to go on that carriage trip—that Sister Mary forced you into it. That you were badly injured in the accident. And that ever since you were sixteen, you’ve been raising Mary’s daughter like your own.”

Classie looked at her friend, lips trembling from holding back tears.

Florence sighed and gently patted her back.

“You fool, don’t cry. It’s not your fault. And if that woman really is someone who gets swayed by baseless rumors with no backbone… then honestly, it’s better not to get involved with her in the first place. We don’t need people like that! Not worth the regret!”

* * *

It was when the Marchioness of Gosville was still deep in thought about what Florence had said that someone knocked on her door.

“Come in.”

The person who entered the room was her son, Kishin—who had only briefly shown his face at the party yesterday before disappearing.

“So you do show your face. Do you have any idea how much trouble your father and I were in after you suddenly vanished? Her Highness the Princess and the Empress were both looking for you constantly.”

The Marchioness scolded him, hiding her troubled heart. Until the investigation was complete, she had decided to feign ignorance regarding her son’s romantic affairs.

But then Kishin strode in confidently—and suddenly held out his hand. Puzzled, the Marchioness looked down—and gasped.

On the ring finger of her son’s hand, which had always been bare, was a rosa ring.

“I’ve proposed to Miss Classie Kalashi. I intend to marry her. I love her, and I ask for your blessing.”

“!”

* * *