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Chapter 1
I’m Getting Married
The street of Wickers was always crowded.
Along the road lined with tall poplar trees, there were more people than trees, and it was full of life.
The warm spring air was mild enough to wear only a light jacket, and the pleasant weather drew even more people outside.
Busy gentlemen walked quickly, carriages raced past, and children sold flowers and newspapers. Everyone was occupied with their own business.
Among them, one woman walked noticeably slowly.
Her skirt swayed softly as she walked at a relaxed pace, looking around. The red soles of her shoes clicked clearly against the ground.
Her bright blonde hair shimmered with each step, and her clear green eyes sparkled like crystals under the midday sun.
As if searching for something, her eyes moved busily. Then she stopped and approached a boy selling newspapers. A gentle smile appeared on her pale face.
“Can I have one newspaper?”
“Yes! Thank you!”
As the woman paid, the boy handing her the newspaper widened his eyes in surprise.
“Uh, I’ll get your change right away…!”
“You don’t need to give me change.”
“Thank you! Thank you!”
Leaving behind his repeated bows and gratitude, the woman resumed her slow walk.
If you walked all the way down Wickers Street, you would reach a café called Echo of Peace at the end.
She pushed open the heavy green door and stepped inside. The interior was elegant, filled with people of all ages and genders chatting endlessly. The sound of dishes and cups clinking echoed lightly.
She walked straight across the café and opened another green door, stepping outside.
There was a terrace overlooking a blue river. The waters of the Ronz River, which ran through the capital Tern, shimmered as if carrying the breath of spring.
As if familiar with the place, she sat at a corner table on the terrace. A café worker soon approached her.
“Hello.”
“Yes, hello.”
“Would you like your usual drink?”
“Yes, please. The same as always.”
“Of course.”
After the staff quietly left, she spread the newspaper on the table.
She flipped through the pages quickly, reading the headlines in a soft voice.
“Grand opening, the Turner family has opened a resort at the foot of the northern Bilton Mountains. A resort with hot springs and skiing? Wow, hot springs—that’s amazing.”
A pure note of admiration escaped her lips.
While she read, her coffee was served.
“Thank you.”
The rich aroma of black coffee rose from the gold-rimmed cup. She took a sip and lifted her head, taking in the scenery.
Beyond the café’s iron fence, green bushes grew thickly, and behind them, the river sparkled under the sunlight.
The sound of leaves rustling in the wind, the light clink of cups and saucers—peaceful noise filled the air pleasantly.
She lowered her head again and continued reading.
“The Duke Campbell family held a charity event… Ah, they had a bazaar last time.”
She nodded and took another sip of coffee.
Warm sunlight, fragrant coffee, and a newspaper full of good news—she liked this moment very much.
As she turned the page and scanned the personal ads, something caught her eye.
“Miss Grace Broyton and Mr. Aiden Turner are engaged. The wedding will take place in June.”
Her hand froze midair as she was about to drink.
“What?”
She slowly put down the cup and stared at the newspaper.
At that moment, a shadow fell over her, and a large hand tapped the table.
“Grace! I heard you’re getting married!”
“Ah, Jones…”
“The whole place is talking about it today! Even if it was meant to be secret, how could you not tell me? The Turner family—that’s the railway king! You’re marrying that rich man!”
Jones sat across from her, excited, pounding the table. He wore a big smile under his thick beard.
In contrast, Grace’s pale face turned even paler.
“I also found out about my marriage to the railway king today.”
“What? It’s your wedding!”
Jones froze in shock.
Grace forced an awkward smile.
“Yeah. I found out about my own marriage today.”
“That makes no sense. If it’s already in the newspaper, the contract must be done… They arranged everything without you knowing?”
“That impossible thing happened to me.”
Grace quickly folded the newspaper and drank her coffee in one go.
She then took out a thick envelope from her bag and handed it to Jones.
“Here’s the manuscript. I have to go.”
“You’re not even eating?”
“Next time.”
She stood up in a hurry. The chair scraped loudly, but she didn’t care and left quickly.
Jones waved his hand.
“Still, congratulations on your marriage!”
Without looking back, Grace waved her hand lightly and left the terrace.
Congratulations? For this ridiculous marriage? A political marriage with a man she had never even seen?
She walked quickly through the crowded café.
While rushing, she bumped shoulders with a man coming the other way.
The man didn’t move, but Grace was pushed back. She grabbed the wall to steady herself, and suddenly the man reached out and supported her with his large hand.
A big shadow fell over her.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Feeling too close, Grace turned away.
As she tried to pass him, her arm was grabbed again.
She turned her head and saw smooth brown hair and deep blue eyes like lapis lazuli. She had to look up to meet his gaze. His sculpted face showed slight concern.
“Are you really okay? You look unwell.”
“I’m really fine. I’m in a hurry.”
A small crease formed between Grace’s brows.
Ignoring his gaze, she quickly left the café.
The street that had felt lively and peaceful now felt noisy and annoying.
Avoiding people, she walked quickly and headed toward a carriage by the roadside.
Normally she wouldn’t take one, but today she got in.
“Where to?”
“To the Broyton estate.”
“Understood.”
The scenery outside the window passed quickly.
Grace bit her lip.
Such a sudden arranged marriage. Calling it “arranged” was even generous—it was practically a transaction between the declining Broyton family and the wealthy Turner family.
The carriage stopped.
“We’ve arrived.”
“Thank you.”
She got out, paid, and hurried forward almost running.
The neatly arranged garden felt unusually large today.
The gardener, Wilson, noticed her and took off his hat.
“You’re busy again today, Miss Grace.”
“Hello, Wilson.”
“I heard the news. Congratulations on your marriage.”
“Haha… thank you.”
She forced her expression and walked on.
Inside the mansion, the servants also congratulated her.
“Congratulations, Miss Grace.”
“Thank you, Lisa.”
The luxurious house sparkled everywhere under the servants’ care.
As she climbed the stairs, she started taking two steps at a time.
“Miss! You must not take the stairs two at a time!”
The elderly head maid, May, stopped her.
“May, I’m in a hurry.”
“Even so. A lady about to be married shouldn’t run up stairs like that.”
“Alright. I’ll go one step at a time.”
“I still can’t believe you’re getting married after living so quietly. But I truly congratulate you.”
“Thank you, May. Do you know where Filson is?”
“If you mean Filson… ah, there he is.”
At the end of the corridor stood the old butler.
“Welcome back.”
Grace walked quickly toward him, eyebrows raised.
“Filson, you knew, didn’t you?”
“Knew what?”
She held out the newspaper.
“Explain this! My marriage—!”
“Let’s talk somewhere quieter.”
Only then did Grace notice the servants pretending not to listen.
“Fine. Let’s go to my study.”
They walked through the corridor and up the stairs.
At last, she opened the red door to her study.
The walls were filled with books, and papers were scattered everywhere.
“If you allow it, I could organize this room,” Filson said.
“This is organized. Don’t touch anything.”
“Those are not trash! Don’t throw them away! Sit down, Filson.”
“I’m fine.”
Grace stared at him.
“There was a very interesting advertisement in today’s newspaper.”
Filson remained silent.
“How is it possible that my own wedding is announced in the paper before I even know? You knew, didn’t you?”
“The master planned to tell you soon.”
“After it was in the newspaper?”
“I regret that as well.”
“You could have told me earlier.”
“I apologize.”
He didn’t look sorry at all.
“Where are my parents?”
“They are both out.”
“Of course. They’re always busy.”
She sighed.
“Tell me immediately when either of them returns.”
“Yes.”
“Then you may go.”
“Shall I bring you a meal?”
“Just tea and some biscuits.”
“Understood.”
After he left, Grace removed her gloves and sat down.
She picked up a pen, then put it down again.
She couldn’t write anything.
Marriage.
If it was already in the newspaper, everything must be decided—house, dowry, all the financial matters.
Yet she didn’t even know what her fiancé looked like.
Everything about money was decided, but not her feelings.
She wanted to marry for love, not numbers.
She shook her head and picked up the pen again—
Knock, knock.
“Yes?”
The door opened.
“The master has returned.”
“Where is he?”
“In the drawing room.”
“I’ll go now.”
Grace quickly stood up.
