HPCM 10

The banquet had not yet fully reached its height, so if she quickly spoke with Marquis Mavel, they should be able to smooth things over without causing major commotion.

With the name of Noha involved, he would not dare break his promise with Charlotte even out of fear.

Of course, those who had come after hearing whispers of the marriage negotiations would likely think they had merely been deceived by false rumors, but still—

‘This banquet was essentially Melia’s debutante.’

Half the guests filling the hall had come to confirm the rumors of the marriage talks, while the other half had come to see the only daughter of House Mavel, who had long been hidden behind a veil.

Though Melia was somewhat lacking in etiquette, she had succeeded in leaving a favorable impression through her natural liveliness.

So if left alone, marriage proposals would surely come in due time.

‘What happens if Melia marries someone else is none of my concern.’

The important thing was simply canceling the marriage negotiation with Alfonso.

And yet Melia had cried and thanked her over and over.

‘Thank me?’

It truly was a phrase unsuited to the situation.

To thank the very person who had seized your weakness and blackmailed you.

‘Well, I was lenient.’

But that leniency had only been for Alfonso’s sake.

‘So if anyone deserves gratitude, strictly speaking, it would be Alfonso…’

Charlotte’s gaze turned toward the banquet hall.

In her green eyes, which had remained emotionless the entire time she dealt with Melia, a faint trace of longing briefly surfaced.

‘Alfonso is probably in there.’

She had not even dared look through the banquet hall for fear of encountering him.

Simply being in the same space as him already made her heart tremble this much.

If she actually saw Alfonso’s face, she felt as though she might burst into tears.

‘Now that I’ve ruined Mavel’s marriage negotiation, Adeline will probably be next.’

And then Alfonso would once again fall in love with Adeline, and without much difficulty, he would find happiness.

Charlotte felt death leap much closer toward her.

It was a welcome thing.

Charlotte slowly closed and opened her eyes, organizing her thoughts, and then began to move.

No—she tried to.

“Charlotte Noha.”

If only that voice had not called out from behind her at that very moment.

The instant she heard it, she felt her body stiffen.

Even before turning around, Charlotte recognized the owner of the voice.

How could she possibly fail to recognize it?

It was a voice she had never once forgotten, not even in her dreams.

‘Alfonso.’

How was he here?

She had tried so desperately to avoid him because she did not want to meet him.

‘There’s no running now.’

She had already missed her chance to flee.

She should have simply kept walking as though she had not heard her name called at all, but she had frozen far too obviously.

There was no helping it.

‘He couldn’t have heard my conversation with Melia.’

There was no need to act suspiciously.

“It doesn’t seem like you failed to hear me.”

“…No. I was merely thinking over whether there was truly anyone who would call for me.”

In the end, Charlotte relaxed her expression and turned around.

Smile if possible.

That was the easiest thing.

She repeated that resolution to herself countless times right up until the moment she turned.

But the instant her eyes met Alfonso’s, all of those resolutions crumbled to ash and scattered away.

All Charlotte could do was helplessly stare into Alfonso’s blue eyes.

‘Strange.’

She had been certain she would cry.

And yet, strangely enough, though her chest swelled painfully, no tears came.

She simply found herself looking at him as though seeing snowfall in midsummer.

‘He’s alive.’

This was not a dream.

That fact felt unbearably unfamiliar.

As her gaze lingered, Alfonso’s face gradually became more like the one Charlotte remembered.

He furrowed his brow.

“Are you still searching your memory?”

“…Yes. No matter how I look at you, you seem like a stranger.”

“I didn’t think silver hair was such a common color.”

“Red hair isn’t exactly common either. If you have no business, then I’ll—”

“You throw a proposal letter in my face, sabotage all my marriage negotiations, and now the very culprit intends to ignore me?”

Alfonso’s brow narrowed even further.

“You know me.”

“I’m fairly certain I said I do not.”

“I heard everything you said to Vivian—no, Melia.”

At that, Charlotte’s lips stiffened into a straight line.

“…Everything?”

“Everything from the beginning. So it would be best if you stop trying to deny it.”

Damn.

Charlotte clicked her tongue briefly.

“Impressive. To watch all of that and still remain silent.”

“Of course I was shocked. I never imagined Marquis Mavel would deceive me.”

How could he not be?

Alfonso had been greatly shocked to learn Vivian’s true identity as well.

But even more shocking was just how cunning the woman before him truly was.

“‘Upon winter’s fading dusk, snow scatters over magnolia’s prayer. Frozen white foam transforms into sustenance for butterflies.’”

In a low voice, Alfonso recited the same verse Charlotte had spoken before Melia.

But as Charlotte herself had said, it was not actually the opening verse of Rhetoric of the Seasons.

“This is a verse by Nuhof. Though I assume you already knew that.”

“…It seems deceiving a maid is one thing, but deceiving a Duke is beyond me.”

“You certainly seemed skilled at lying. I was impressed by your cunning.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Did it sound like mockery?”

“If it had, I wouldn’t have asked.”

To be precise, she asked because she knew he was not the type to mock.

“If it is a compliment, then yes. Had you not recited that verse, that maid would surely have continued denying everything.”

Alfonso had only witnessed fragments of the situation, but even that was enough.

Charlotte was astonishingly adept at controlling circumstances.

She had cornered Melia through many means, but the decisive blow had been that single line of poetry.

The moment Melia heard it, knowing nothing herself, she must have been convinced there was no longer any room for denial.

“I am certain Count Olivier’s household, and Aubigny as well, were your doing.”

“Even if I said otherwise, you wouldn’t believe me, would you?”

“You visited Count Olivier’s estate uninvited immediately before I arrived, and you deliberately purchased perfume from an obscure perfumery only to make it trend at precisely this time. Are you truly going to call all of that coincidence?”

“…Fine. I did it.”

This time, it was Charlotte who had to confess.

And yet there was no trace of defeat on her face.

Rather, after exchanging only a few words, Charlotte’s attitude had become even more natural.

Because the difference between the Alfonso in her memories and the man standing before her had become increasingly clear.

‘This person… truly doesn’t know me.’

He had not become unhappy because of Charlotte, nor did he loathe her terribly.

He was practically a blank slate.

What a relief.

‘Everything I needed to do is already done.’

So what if Alfonso now knew she had been interfering in his marriage negotiations all this time?

In this situation, what he would say was obvious.

‘He’ll tell me not to interfere anymore.’

Or perhaps demand she take responsibility for what she had done.

And then Charlotte would simply agree and gracefully withdraw.

Sure enough—

“Had I remained ignorant, perhaps that would be one thing. But now that I know you have been sabotaging my marriage negotiations all this time, I cannot simply let it pass. You must take responsibility.”

At Alfonso’s words, Charlotte nearly laughed to herself.

He really was such an easy person to predict.

“I will. What exactly do you want me to do?”

“It shouldn’t be particularly difficult. After all, it is something both you and your family have wanted.”

After saying that, Alfonso lightly cleared his throat before continuing.

“Please marry me, Lady Noha.”

It was the moment Charlotte’s ambitious plans began to crack.

“Your Grace, here you are!”

Standing alone in the rear garden, Alfonso turned at the familiar voice.

When he looked, he saw Ludvik hurrying toward him with an urgent expression.

“Urgent news has arrived. You told me to remain in place, but the matter was so pressing that I had no choice but to—”

“If it’s about Marquis Mavel canceling the marriage negotiation, I already know.”

At Alfonso’s words, Ludvik’s eyes widened.

“H-How did you know? Did you perhaps speak with Marquis Mavel beforehand?”

“Not exactly. I simply happened to overhear.”

“If you already knew, then that’s fortunate, but… what kind of person cancels a marriage negotiation right before the announcement? Marquis Mavel himself was the one rushing this marriage, and now he suddenly withdraws like this!”

“From what I heard, there were circumstances that justified it. Don’t be so heated.”

“If Your Grace says so, then I suppose I cannot complain further, but at this point, I can’t help recalling Arnaud’s words.”

Arnaud was the curly-haired knight who had laughed the loudest upon hearing Alfonso’s previous marriage negotiations had fallen apart.

If it was something he had said, the meaning was simple.

“You mean his claim that I’m cursed?”

“…Yes. It’s an irreverent thing to say, but surely there must be something strange going on, no? This makes three broken marriage negotiations already.”

Oh, there was definitely something.

Not a curse—just a person.

“Please, let the fourth marriage negotiation proceed safely.”

“It will.”

Alfonso answered absentmindedly, mentally sketching the one who had stood here just moments before.

A woman with striking red hair and a cold expression.

The very woman who had ruined all his marriage negotiations, only to openly scowl the moment she herself was proposed to.

Charlotte Noha.

“…I have no intention of being rejected four times.”