HBTF 49

Chapter: 49

 Meeting the Fiancé’s Parents

After Classie strutted away as if she were the heroine of a fairy tale, Meren felt so queasy she downed three glasses of cold water in a row.

“You’ll get a stomachache, my lady.”

Karen anxiously shuffled her feet nearby.

“My heart’s already aching.”

Meren whispered softly so Anna wouldn’t hear.

Karen nodded with a glum face.

“It really is strange, though. Where in the world did Marchioness Gosvill get the idea, from what you said, that you liked Lady Classie?”

As Meren recalled her conversation with the marchioness, a sudden unease struck her.

“Wait—what if she couldn’t understand me because I spoke too indirectly?”

“That might be it. You did say that Lady Classie was the only one in that family who cared for you, after all. And at the end you even hammered in that she was a good person. Maybe the marchioness, despite appearances, is a straightforward woman who just takes words at face value.”

Swayed by Karen’s reasoning, Meren knocked her forehead repeatedly against a pillar.

“Nanny was right. Looks like that’s it. Ahhh… why on earth did I think the Marchioness of Gosvill was clever enough to understand even when people spoke in circles?”

Karen slipped her hand between the pillar and Meren’s forehead to soothe her.

“Don’t worry, my lady. If things turn out well, this could help you and Sir Dernick, too.”

Only then did Meren’s frustration and bewilderment ease a little, and she nodded gloomily. But her mood didn’t completely lift.

“Sir Dernick stuck to me like glue back in Greengall City, but now that we’re back in the capital, I haven’t heard a single word from him. Even Sir Kishin, who’s usually so cold, sends letters every day.”

“He’s probably busy wrapping things up. Or perhaps you could write to him first, my lady. You do know where his house is now.”

As the two of them counted the days to see how long it had been since Dernick last contacted her, they realized that Meren’s birthday was just a few days away.

Meren leapt with joy. What a perfect excuse to reach out.

Do you want me to keep translating the rest of the chapters in this polished style, or would you prefer a simpler, more literal rendering?

* * *

Inside the carriage bound for the marquis’s estate, Classie couldn’t keep her hands still on her lap.

“Why are you so nervous?”

Unable to watch any longer, Kishin teased her, but Classie continued tapping her knees, pressing her palms down, clenching and unclenching her fists.

“What if the marchioness dislikes me?”

As the carriage rattled along the Balowal road, Classie couldn’t hold back and spoke her worries honestly.

“That won’t happen.”

“But the rumors about me…”

“You already know the truth about those. And even if she doesn’t take a liking to you, what does it matter? All we need is their permission. It’s our life, not theirs.”

Kishin sounded utterly carefree.

Classie gave his trousers a little pinch.

“You’re so annoying. My parents shouldn’t have liked you the moment they met you.”

“Did your mother and father like me?”

“Yes. They can’t stop smiling whenever they even hear your name.”

He had just said all that mattered was gaining their consent, not their affection—yet when it came to Classie’s parents, he seemed pleased to know he’d left a good impression, and the corners of his lips curled up.

Annoyed all the more by that expression, Classie pulled off her glove and smacked the back of his hand.

“You’re infuriating. I challenge you to a duel.”

In their playful bickering, thankfully, her nerves began to ease bit by bit.

At last, when the carriage stopped, Classie drew a deep breath and stepped out with Kishin’s escort.

Fortunately, the building was smaller than the Omel marquis’s estate, and her tension subsided somewhat.

At the front gates, the butler was already waiting to greet them.

“I am Arthur, steward of House Gosvill. Lady Classie, I expect we’ll be seeing each other often.”

Once inside, to her surprise, even the Marquis and Marchioness of Gosvill were waiting near the central staircase. The only family member not present was Kishin’s younger brother.

“Welcome.”

Before Classie could offer her bow, the marchioness came quickly toward her, greeting her warmly and pulling her into an embrace. There wasn’t the slightest trace of concern over Classie’s rumored reputation.

Just how glowingly did Meren speak of me?

Overjoyed, Classie wrapped her arms around the marchioness in return.

Would you like me to keep the dialogue tone polished like this (more novel-like), or a little more literal to preserve the exact Korean expressions?

* * *

Classie thought today was simply an opportunity to show the marchioness and marquis who she was.

Since her parents had been staying in the capital for a month, Kishin had often come by to spend time with them, so Classie assumed today would be a similar occasion for her.

But unexpectedly, the conversation immediately turned to wedding preparations. They discussed practical matters: where she and Kishin would like to live after marriage, whether she would want to return to her hometown even though Kishin needed to stay in the capital as a guard, whether they preferred a location outside the temple for the ceremony, what dates would work for the wedding, who would serve as attendants, and which designer would make her dress.

Normally, in an arranged marriage, these details would be coordinated by the parents, and Classie would only need to pick a dress. But since both sets of guardians were far away, Kishin seemed to be asking her about each detail directly.

At first, Classie answered rapidly, almost in a daze, but eventually the reality hit her and she asked in shock:

“Sir Kishin… are we really getting married?”

“Yes. Do you want me to tell you who the bride is?”

Kishin joked, and Classie, embarrassed, pushed against his arm.

The Gosvill marquis and marchioness burst into laughter.

By the time dinner and dessert were finished, the wedding plan had already taken shape.

Classie decided to continue living in the capital.

Her hometown was pleasant, but the people who had mattered to her were no longer there. Her parents traveled abroad, her eldest sister had passed away, and her closest friend had moved to the capital.

There was no need to uproot Kishin, who was thriving in his work here, to return to her hometown.

Since the house Classie had rented had a five-year lease with plenty of time remaining, it was decided that their marital home would be there.

Classie strongly insisted on having the wedding as soon as possible, so they decided on September or October, with the exact date set according to the schedule of the Kalashi couple, who couldn’t stay in one place for long due to their travels abroad.

Meren and Dernick would serve as attendants, and the dress would be entrusted to the Gosvill marchioness’s favorite designer, who even handled the empress’s gowns.

After the planning was roughly finished, Classie finally visited Kishin’s room for the first time.

“Wow.”

Entering the room, Classie was genuinely impressed. The atmosphere alone made her admire it.

Kishin’s room looked as though his office had simply been transplanted there. His bedroom was essentially his office with a bed added and a sofa.

Classie looked around the black-and-white-filled room with some concern.

“Sir Kishin, your taste is… very clear. What should I do?”

“Do you think my taste is so terrible it needs to be reconsidered?”

“No, your room is stylish. But it’s so different from mine.”

Kishin, having visited Classie’s room several times before, immediately understood and sighed.

“I see.”

Classie looped her arm through his and looked up at him affectionately.

“We agreed to live in my house after we marry, right? Then shouldn’t you adjust to my taste?”

“…….”

“Don’t you want to? After all, the exterior is pink, isn’t it?”

“Since the exterior is pink, wouldn’t a black interior look sleek?”

“No! A house that’s different inside and out is no good.”

Classie’s firm refusal seemed to slightly soften Kishin’s icy expression, giving it a somewhat pitiful look.

Finding it quite cute, Classie deliberately continued teasing him.

“Sir Kishin, your hair is red. Pink is in the same color family, so you should handle it with more care.”

“My hair is red, not pink.”

“That’s splitting hairs, isn’t it?”

“……And you, Lady Classie, don’t you have dark brown hair?”

Hit right on the spot, Classie ran to the window and hid her hair behind the curtains.

Clutching the curtains with both hands and leaving only her face exposed, Kishin let out an incredulous laugh.

Then he strode over, cupped her protruding face with both hands, and asked:

“Lady Classie, cold on the outside but warm on the inside, why won’t you treat me warmly?”

Classie tried to playfully resist, but his large, warm hands covered her face, and that heat seeped deep into her skin.

Moreover, his face was dangerously close. Classie’s embarrassment surged, and she quietly lowered her gaze.

Kishin, in turn, grew quiet as well, and the lively energy in the room turned to a soft, intimate tension.

Classie glanced down at his shoes, imagining he might kiss her cheek, forehead, or maybe even her lips.

Just the thought made her heart race violently. Classie had never kissed anyone on the lips before.

* * *