Chapter – 12
That was Grandmother’s reasoning.
If Juliet attended as a viscount’s daughter, she would inevitably attract attention. But if she appeared as a commoner’s daughter, no one would take particular notice.
She would act as Adam’s partner just this once. No one would bother to remember the face of a “common” girl who appeared at a single soirée, much less recall her years later when Juliet made her debut.
Fortunately, this would be a small, private gathering—mostly attended by Ashen’s knights and a few close acquaintances.
No one in Ashen territory knew Juliet’s face before her debut, so the risk of her false identity being exposed was practically nonexistent.
“Still, just to be safe, we should put on a little more makeup than usual,” Grandmother said.
“That way, even if someone happens to recognize you someday, they’ll dismiss it as a mere resemblance. Remember what you said about Mary? That she’s quite skilled at makeup?”
She cast a brief glance toward Mary, who stood behind Juliet.
Indeed, Mary’s skill with cosmetics was extraordinary. In her hands, Juliet could become a hundred different versions of herself.
Even so—
“I’m not only worried about being found out,” Juliet protested softly. “It feels wrong to deceive Lord Adam. That’s what I mean.”
If Grandmother’s story was true, Adam harbored feelings for Juliet. But “Juliet, the orchard owner’s daughter,” was a person who didn’t exist at all.
“Even if we promised it would be only once,” she went on, “I’m sure Lord Adam had some expectations. After all, he must think that I personally agreed to be his temporary partner. But to trick him like this, all of us together—it feels so cruel…”
“I can’t help it, dear,” her grandmother replied matter-of-factly. “I live here as a simple widow with a modest fortune. This estate is registered under Thomas’s name. If people knew my granddaughter was a viscount’s daughter, it would ruin that illusion entirely.”
“I understand that, but still…”
Deceiving others about her identity might be necessary—to protect both Juliet’s reputation and her grandmother’s peaceful retirement.
But Adam was just a sincere young man who’d stretched the truth a little to impress his friends.
Was she really supposed to join in the lie, watch him bask in the illusion, and never tell him the truth?
Grandmother eyed Juliet with mild puzzlement.
“My dear, you haven’t even met Adam yet. How can you be so certain his love is hopeless? For all you know, you might end up liking him yourself.”
Juliet faltered, unable to reply.
She could never admit that it was because of her memories from her previous life—that she wanted to avoid knights at all costs.
Even if Adam turned out to be exactly as wonderful as Grandmother claimed—handsome, kind, and perfectly compatible—she could never love a man who was a knight. Not ever.
But how could she possibly explain that?
“If you don’t take a liking to him,” Grandmother continued, “then simply keep your word and end things after this one event. Remember, this whole idea came from him asking for your help in the first place. Once he realizes there’s no hope, he won’t try to pursue you. It’ll just be a small, bittersweet memory of his youth.”
“I suppose that’s true, but…”
“On the other hand,” Grandmother smiled, “if you do like him and wish to pursue something sincere, then all you need to do is tell him the truth. It’s not as if you’re a con artist or a married woman. I doubt he’d be angry over something as trivial as that.”
Indeed, what man would be angry to learn that the woman he liked wasn’t a commoner but a viscount’s daughter?
If anything, most men would be overjoyed. There were few commoners who didn’t harbor at least some admiration for noble ladies.
Of course, if Juliet were the sort to play around lightly, it would be different—but she was not. If she ever chose to date someone, it would only be with honesty and the intention of marriage. A pure, proper relationship—nothing less.
“Juliet,” Grandmother said gently, “love knows no rank. Could it be that you think a knight apprentice isn’t suitable for you?”
“Of course not! I’d never think that.”
Startled by the unexpected question, Juliet quickly shook her head.
Indeed, knight apprentices weren’t nobles. Some could eventually be promoted and granted the rank of baronet, yet among the blue-blooded elite, they were still considered outsiders.
Some nobles even called them “upstarts” to their faces.
Given that, a son-in-law of such rank might seem less than ideal—but that only mattered to those seeking greater political power or social advancement.
The Forlingen viscountcy already possessed ample lands and wealth. Her parents had no desire for further elevation.
They wished only for Juliet to marry someone she could truly love and respect.
Naturally, they expected her to maintain the family’s dignity and marry someone of decent standing, as noble unions required royal approval.
A viscount’s daughter marrying a commoner was practically impossible—unless the man was first granted a title.
But a knight apprentice stood halfway between the classes: not quite commoner, not quite noble.
It was not uncommon for such men to be ennobled as baronets before marriage, for propriety’s sake.
In short, Juliet had far more freedom in marriage than most noble daughters—whose parents schemed endlessly to marry them into wealthier, more powerful houses.
Juliet’s options were restricted only slightly; otherwise, her future was her own to decide.
And truthfully, she had little concern for rank or status at all.
“I just… can’t imagine myself falling in love or getting married yet,” she said softly.
It was half the truth—and half a lie.
For Juliet already knew what it meant to love.
It was precisely because that love had once been impossible that she now found it so hard to open her heart again.
“At first, it’s that way for everyone,” Grandmother said kindly. “You walk slowly, step by step, through the dark, not knowing where you’re headed. And then one day, you fall into a deep hole you can’t climb out of—that’s what it means to fall in love.”
She gently took Juliet’s hands and held them between her own.
“I truly like Adam,” she said softly. “If he were to become my grandson-in-law, I’d be delighted. But perhaps I’ve let that wish carry me away. I should have respected your feelings more, instead of promising him without asking you first.”
“Grandmother…”
“But please, won’t you attend the soirée with him? Otherwise, poor Adam will be humiliated. Think of it as a small act of kindness. Will you?”
It was rare for her grandmother to bow her head, and Juliet found herself relenting.
And besides… though she had resolved to avoid involvement, a part of her still longed to see Emilia again—to see how much she had grown.
Just once, from afar.
No words, no approach.
A single glimpse would be enough. After that, she would slip away quietly.
“…Very well,” Juliet said at last. “For your sake—and to spare Lord Adam embarrassment—I’ll attend the soirée as his temporary partner. But only this once.”
“Thank you, Juliet! You truly are my granddaughter!”
Her grandmother’s face broke into a bright, relieved smile.
Juliet sighed, gave her a wry look, and took a sip of her now-lukewarm tea.
