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Chapter 6
“We received a bit of help. He stopped by today because there was something we needed to discuss for a moment.”
The hand Ethan had been using to support her loosened slightly.
After quickly assessing the situation, he turned to the butler and extended one hand. The head maid accepted it first.
“I’m Butler Polson.”
“I’m Delia, the head maid.”
“Pleasure to meet you. Ethan Fletcher.”
Strictly speaking, the treatment he was receiving wasn’t much of a welcome for a guest, but Ethan merely raised a brow lightly before supporting Erin again.
At some point, the corners of his lips had lifted, and they stayed firmly in place.
“Now that that’s done, let’s go inside.”
Even after getting exactly what he wanted, something still seemed to displease her. As Erin crossed the entrance, traces of irritation leaked through her restrained expression.
‘Looks like she really wants to draw a firm line. Too bad.’
She would probably be furious if she knew the truth, but in the end she was completely missing the mark.
What a ridiculous little battle of nerves.
Now that he had finally stepped foot inside the Cornue Ducal residence, Ethan Fletcher cared about nothing else around him.
Everything his eyes touched looked dazzling and magnificent. The whole world felt dreamlike. Even the antique furniture and dark-toned carpets seemed so extravagant they practically stabbed at his eyes.
Was it an illusion? A delusion?
Even so, he didn’t care. The fact that the famous drawing room of the Cornue Ducal House—a place few could even dream of entering—was spread out before him at this very moment.
No matter how expensive the materials used, they could never compare to the prestige carried by the ducal name. Ethan was certain of that now.
“Wow, ha…!”
At Ethan’s poorly concealed exclamation, Erin turned her head as though she’d heard something absurd.
“…?”
“It really is as incredible as the rumors say. Hard to believe.”
His face entered her field of vision. Ethan Fletcher’s low, trembling voice was surprising enough, but his utterly unguarded expression was even worse.
A grown man wearing the blissful look of a child tasting candy for the first time in his life…
…what exactly was she supposed to make of that?
Still grinning foolishly, he wandered farther away with each step.
Just moments ago he’d stubbornly insisted on practically carrying her like some knight upholding a sacred creed, yet the instant she looked back, his hand had already abandoned her without hesitation.
“Excuse me?”
So was all that earlier behavior some kind of ritual?
Like a ticket of admission needed to cross the threshold of the mansion?
Erin stood there narrowing her brows in disbelief, unable even to continue toward the drawing room right in front of her.
“This place is absolutely unbelievable, Miss Cornue.”
“Mr. Fletcher.”
He merely glanced back before making another broad circle around the room without answering.
If he’d earned as much money as the rumors claimed, he’d surely visited every luxurious place in existence already. Yet the awe spilling from him as he examined the interior sounded more like a country boy visiting the capital for the first time.
“Haa…”
An innocent smile spread across his lips.
But Erin found it difficult to look away for the opposite reason.
At best, she was dumbfounded. He’d come as a guest, yet he openly displayed every raw emotion without the slightest restraint. It was unbearably vulgar.
‘How on earth…’
Even if someone wanted to shout it shamelessly to the entire world, how could a person possibly be like this? How utterly lacking in manners could one be?
And besides—
‘Just… just…’
If he was reacting like this over nothing more than the capital townhouse…
Then that only proved how vast the gap was between this man’s life and the ducal family’s world. And realizing she’d needed help from someone who amounted to only this much made her feel pathetic instead.
Meanwhile, the man touching the windows overlooking the garden seemed even more excited than before.
Then he tilted his head up and began thoroughly inspecting everything—the portraits on the walls, the carpets beneath his feet, the marble pillars, the gilded staircase, and finally even the corners of the ceiling as though coated in honey.
Unable to merely watch any longer, Erin finally signaled to the head maid.
Mrs. Delia hurried over and sent the nearby maids and servants back to their places.
Then Erin stepped forward.
“If you like it that much, then postpone the conversation and take your time looking around.”
“Hm?”
“By yourself. Thoroughly. Since you presumably have a brain, you should know my legs are like this, so I’m not exactly capable of giving you a tour.”
At some point, Erin had moved to the far end of the drawing room.
Ethan nodded enthusiastically.
“That’s exactly what I planned to do. I’ve been restless with anticipation since this morning.”
“…Since this morning?”
Ethan, who had been touching a porcelain ornament in the middle of the room, froze and turned toward her.
This morning… the notice of debt transfer.
Piecing together the implication behind his words, Erin let out a laugh of disbelief.
“Ah. So that’s why. That’s why you came to the ballet company today, wasn’t it?”
“Miss Cornue.”
“No wonder. I thought it was strange how you dragged me all the way here without caring at all about my injury.”
“Hey now, I brought you here in a carriage. Cut me some slack. This isn’t an ordinary experience.”
She didn’t even need to ask.
He’d needed an excuse to tour the mansion that became his property this very morning.
The moment he saw her slip on stage, he must have worried about what he’d do if she couldn’t get into his carriage safely.
And after seeing another ballerina take her place, he’d immediately changed plans and waited outside.
Just imagining it made heat rise to her head.
“Right. I understand. Mr. Fletcher, to someone like you, this must’ve been an extraordinary event. This mansion.”
Mockery filled Erin’s eyes.
“So in the end, there was never really anything you needed to discuss today.”
“That’s not true. It’s both.”
“So this is the sort of gentleman you are, Ethan Fletcher.”
“Don’t sneer at me.”
“I’ll be sure to remember it in the future.”
Erin turned away without hesitation.
If she kept talking to this man any longer, she might grab him by the collar herself.
‘…Ah.’
He was the lunatic who’d said getting slapped was exciting.
Then perhaps she should just shut that mouth of his first.
Erin had barely taken a few steps while mentally insulting him when someone grabbed her arm and spun her around.
The sharp scent of wood hit her immediately. There was no need to check—it was Ethan Fletcher.
“Let go. It hurts.”
“Where do you think you’re going? We still need to talk.”
He didn’t release her arm. Erin merely frowned with restrained dignity instead of trying to yank herself free.
“Mr. Fletcher.”
“Right, right. Then let’s talk from now on. That’s why I came here.”
Ethan tilted his head.
“Tired? It won’t take long. Ah, unless you want to see my face again tomorrow—though my schedule’s packed, I could make special time for you—”
“That’s enough. Let’s go to the parlor. Now.”
“Ah, not the parlor. What about this lady’s room?”
“My room?”
Ethan stared directly at the head maid as he asked. Mrs. Delia hesitated before answering.
“It’s on the second floor.”
“Second floor? Then we’ll have to use the stairs.”
“Excuse me, why are you suddenly talking about someone else’s room? I haven’t even been there in ages. It’s basically empty.”
“The same could be said for the parlor.”
Ethan gestured with his eyes for her to lead the way. Hesitantly, the head maid started walking. Once he confirmed she was heading toward the staircase connected to the central hall, Ethan hooked one of Erin’s arms around his neck and lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
“Ah—!”
Startled by the sudden lurch, Erin whipped her head around. His face was suddenly very close.
“You’re light.”
The first thing she saw were his blue eyes.
“Hey, Ethan Fletcher!”
At Erin’s scream, the head maid walking ahead turned around. Even the butler standing behind them reacted.
Clenching her teeth, Erin hissed,
“Put me down right now.”
“Mm. We’re almost there.”
The more she twisted and struggled, the tighter his hold became. Completely ignoring her resistance, Ethan calmly addressed the head maid.
“The young lady can’t climb stairs on her own. So—which room is the bedroom?”
Mrs. Delia’s gaze dropped to Erin’s exposed ankle beneath her skirt.
Her eyes widened instantly.
If it were mere fatigue, it wouldn’t be swollen like that. Why was it so bad? Wh-what in the world had happened?
The pale-faced head maid practically ran up the stairs.
Looking down at the dissatisfied Erin, Ethan leisurely followed after her.
“…”
“Hey, Miss Cornue.”
About halfway up the staircase, Ethan suddenly looked down at her and asked,
“You twisted it on stage, didn’t you? So why did you lie earlier?”
“…”
Erin merely snorted and glared at him in silence.
“….”
“Don’t want to tell me? Fine then.”
As though it were nothing important, Ethan quickly looked away again.
Keeping her lips tightly shut, Erin glared at him from head to toe.
‘Acting all familiar while asking questions.’
Messy curly hair, suspicious blue eyes, lips twitching with hidden intentions. There wasn’t a single thing about him she liked.
And…
‘What is with this beard?’
Was he actually growing it out, or had he simply neglected to shave for days? She suddenly wanted to reach out and rip out every scraggly strand sticking out from his ridiculous face.
