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Chapter : 30
Loren, who had been staring at his face, slowly straightened herself up and sat properly on the sofa. Cedric stood beside it, one arm draped over the backrest.
“Well… I’m nervous. You probably wouldn’t understand, since you’re used to this…”
“Used to what? I’ve told you several times already—this is my first marriage.”
“This is the second time you’ve said that. And I didn’t mean marriage. I meant meeting people like this.”
She lightly shook the stack of envelopes in her hands. The crisp new paper rustled softly.
“What if I make a mistake?”
“Is that really something to worry about at this point?”
Cedric laughed in disbelief.
“People are going to assume the Countess of Collins is mad anyway. Every time you make a mistake, they’ll bloom with delight. The social circle loves that sort of thing…”
He wasn’t wrong. Hadn’t the newspapers splashed headlines calling her a “mad bride”? It was an unusual wedding in many ways. Everyone attending would probably come expecting to see a lunatic.
“So there’s nothing to worry about. If you mess up, they’ll think, ‘As expected, she’s crazy.’ And if you act flawlessly, they’ll think, ‘Why isn’t she crazy?’”
“…I’m actually considering whether I should just knock over all the champagne glasses. I feel like I’d be disappointing people who came expecting a spectacle.”
She muttered sarcastically, and Cedric burst out laughing.
“A brilliant plan—but I suggest you don’t. If you absolutely must knock over champagne glasses, I’ll host a grand party when we divorce. You can do it then.”
“No thanks. I’d be happier if you just gave me that money instead.”
Before they’d even entered the wedding hall hand in hand, here they were joking about divorce. In that sense, they were perfectly in sync.
Cedric bent down and leaned closer to Loren, lowering his voice as if sharing something important.
“All you need to do is act madly in love with me. Thanks to my aunt, all the guests will already know the story—how you fell hopelessly for ‘Cedric Collins’ after running into him by chance on the street and pursued him relentlessly.”
“So that script is still in effect? I was wondering if I should flesh it out a bit more. No matter how I look at it, you don’t seem like someone people would ‘fall in love with at first sight.’”
Loren shot back without missing a beat. Cedric twitched an eyebrow, then silently took the envelopes from her hand. Flipping them over, he checked the names written on each one.
“I’ll be by your side anyway.”
“Well… that’s reassuring. Truly.”
Loren replied dryly.
“There may be a few crafty old snakes, but no one’s actually insane—so relax. You’ll probably be the craziest person there.”
Cedric tossed the envelopes onto the sofa.
“If things really get uncomfortable… just imitate me.”
“How?”
He gently placed the back of his right hand against his forehead, then staggered dramatically, tangling his steps as if dizzy. It was utterly shameless.
“Like this. Then cough like you’re about to vomit your organs out and retreat inside. The fatal flaw is that you can only use it once, but it’s effective.”
“That’s truly excellent advice.”
“I’ll stay behind and tell everyone, ‘My beloved wife isn’t feeling well…’”
Loren shuddered. Cedric merely shrugged as if he didn’t see the problem and returned to the desk.
He resumed the repetitive task of copying invitation text onto stationery. The room grew quiet again.
“Loren.”
After a short while, Cedric’s voice broke the silence.
“Are you inviting him as well?”
“Who?”
“Noah. You seem rather fond of him. There’s exactly one sheet of stationery left—and it is a wedding.”
She hadn’t expected that. It was true she felt grateful to Noah, but inviting him to her wedding had never crossed her mind. All the guests were eminent nobles.
Loren hesitated. A wedding… She’d been thinking of it like a business arrangement.
“…No. He looked very busy because of you. At this rate, my request might end up being pushed aside.”
Whatever Cedric had said to Noah, the next morning Noah wore an unusually solemn expression.
He had walked up to Cedric, the floor creaking beneath him, and murmured quietly, “I’ll take the job.”
It was surely related to Idmon.
“Competent detectives are always busy. Very well.”
“And besides… I don’t want to make him travel such a long distance.”
Loren added softly. The wedding would be held in the Collins earldom—a journey of two days by train.
According to Cedric, if trouble were to occur, it was better for it to happen somewhere familiar.
They planned to leave early the next morning, but Loren hadn’t packed a suitcase. Cedric said everything she needed would already be there. Smaller items like dresses and rings had been sent ahead by Peter.
“Cedric, will it really be all right without Peter?”
Two days of travel alone together. She worried about unforeseen incidents.
Ever since reading the notebook filled with portraits of the dead in the underground study, anxiety had been creeping up on her.
“It’ll be fine. We’ve rented an entire carriage, and I’ve checked the engineer’s background several times. It’s safer than a carriage ride.”
“And if something still happens?”
“Then… we’ll have to leave it to luck. Like you said, we can’t stay locked away forever.”
Coming from the man who had once kidnapped her, it was a rather inappropriate sentiment. Loren glared at him.
“If you’re that worried, I’ll teach you how to shoot.”
“Now?”
He quickly changed the subject. Loren saw right through him—yet let it slide.
“Shall I teach you on the train, then?”
“…No, I mean—”
“You’re cramming guest names already. Why can’t you cram shooting?”
“Cedric! That’s not the point. There’s nowhere appropriate to practice!”
“I’ll draw a big target on the dining room wall.”
She didn’t respond, assuming it was a bad joke.
That was, until she saw the human-torso-shaped target hanging on the dining room wall.
“Cedric, are you insane?”
She raised her voice, staring at the target propped up against the wall. It was paper stretched over a wooden frame.
She had rushed over after his urgent summons—only to be greeted by this sight.
“I’m perfectly sane. The other rooms are too small for shooting practice. This is ideal.”
“No, even so—”
Ignoring her muttering, Cedric placed his finger on the revolver’s trigger and spun it once. It wasn’t loaded yet, but it was still a dangerous motion.
“Loren, who owns this house?”
“…You do.”
“And who’ll pay for repairing the wall?”
“That would also be… you.”
“And who has the right to destroy the dining room wall at will?”
“…That would be me.”
Loren’s gaze sharpened as she looked at the target. Cedric let out a hollow laugh at how quickly she’d changed her tune.
She gripped the gun firmly with her right hand, supporting it with her left. Cedric circled around her, checking her posture.
“Have you ever learned how to shoot?”
He murmured softly. And for good reason—this wasn’t the stance of a beginner.
It had been the same at the inn. People unfamiliar with guns often kept their finger on the trigger, but Loren always rested her index finger along the barrel.
“I’ve never learned. If not for you, I’d never even have seen one.”
“I’m honored. Feel free to thank me as much as you like. When else would you ever get to do this?”
Cedric seized the moment to say something shameless.
“In this position, you should always treat the gun as if it’s loaded.”
“…Didn’t you just spin it with your finger on the trigger?”
“I’m experienced. It’s fine.”
Was it really okay to learn shooting from a teacher like this? Loren eyed him skeptically.
Unbothered, Cedric adjusted her stance—lifting her arms, steadying her head. She frowned at the sudden closeness of his touch.
“It’s more accurate than explaining it verbally.”
“…Couldn’t you at least say something before touching me?”
“I’ll correct that next time. If there is a next time.”
