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Chapter 29
At Yuan’s words, Lydia’s face instantly crumpled.
Serret glanced at Lydia’s distorted expression, then turned her gaze back to Yuan. His ashen-gray eyes still held a cold glint.
“I-I meant nothing else by it. I only wished to praise a beautiful woman, and perhaps I was too excessive, Your Grace.”
Caught in those cold eyes, Jack hurriedly backtracked with an awkward smile.
“Jack, jokes don’t work too well with Yuan. Yuan, don’t be so stiff.”
With a smile, Lydia addressed Yuan, speaking as though they were close. To anyone watching, it might have seemed as if Lydia, not Serret, were Yuan’s fiancée.
“That’s right, Yuan. Lady Elliot is correct.”
Wanting to see Lydia’s face crumple even more, Serret placed her hand on Yuan’s chest and, with a gentle voice, soothed him.
Yuan Frektuster’s fiancée is me, not you.
Her gaze shifted to Lydia. A twitch ran across Lydia’s smiling lips.
“When it comes to matters concerning me, Yuan tends to be a little sensitive. Please don’t let it trouble you, Mr. Clarke.”
Serret turned her attention to Jack as she spoke. Yuan, as if confirming her words, wrapped an arm tightly around Serret’s waist and pulled her close.
“Then, we’ll take our leave.”
With that, Yuan gave a polite farewell to Lydia and led Serret away.
Once they were far enough, Serret slipped out of Yuan’s grasp. But Yuan quickly pulled her close again.
“What are you doing?” Serret asked, looking up at him.
“I’m doing my best—as your fiancé.”
“Ah, yes. My guardian, wasn’t it?”
Serret pried off Yuan’s hand from her waist with a small smile.
“There are, occasionally, such lunatics.”
“…What?”
Serret looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“Men who don’t know their place and reach for what isn’t theirs. My fiancée is, as always, excessively beautiful today… unnecessarily so.”
Yuan lightly grasped her chin and brushed his thumb across her cheek. His fingers grazed her lips for a moment before pulling away.
Not wanting to get swept up in that subtle touch, Serret straightened her back stiffly.
“Was that supposed to be a compliment? Or are you mocking me?”
It felt more like mockery than praise. Never before had she been mocked for being beautiful. Serret let out a dry laugh.
“It was unpleasant. That man’s eyes on you weren’t pure. Even knowing full well you are my fiancée.”
“Mr. Clarke probably thought he was climbing above his station. And since he climbed, you thought to crush him. Whether it was me or not, Your Grace simply disliked Mr. Clarke.”
“….”
At Serret’s words, Yuan fell silent, staring at her.
“Am I wrong?”
“Call me Yuan.”
“…What?”
Serret blinked, thrown off by his completely unrelated reply.
“Because I like the way it sounds.”
The quiet timbre of his voice struck at Serret’s chest.
In her previous life, she had once accidentally called him by name. He had smiled then and said—
‘I like it. Hearing my name from my wife’s lips.’
How happy she had been at those words. For days and days, Serret had replayed them in her mind, cherishing them.
Perhaps to him it was a passing comment, but to her it had been unbearably sweet, heart-fluttering words.
Remembering how she had once clung to those words so dearly made a bitter smile spread across Serret’s lips.
“It’s more comfortable to call you ‘Your Grace.’”
She spoke clearly, her eyes on him.
Such words no longer made her heart race. The foolish woman who had once delighted at every careless word, who had rejoiced alone in them, was already dead.
“…I see.”
A faint look of disappointment crossed Yuan’s face—an expression unfitting of the Duke of Frektuster.
Serret pulled away from him and headed in another direction, her mood sinking. The resurfacing memories of her past life weighed her down.
Feeling the urge to cry, she quietly slipped out of the ballroom and into the rose garden.
She had decided to marry for Jeremy’s sake, but honestly, she wasn’t confident. Could she really divorce later? Was she leaping into a pit of fire?
The thought of repeating that painful marriage terrified her.
“Ha… Jeremy, you bastard.”
She cursed under her breath, sighing, when suddenly a branch snapped behind her.
Someone was there. Serret’s body stiffened. Footsteps drew closer and closer.
Jack? She had forgotten about him for a moment.
What if Jack had followed her out? If he sullied her honor here, where no one was around…
A chill ran down her spine. Quickly, she pulled the brooch from her dress. Its sharp tip would be the perfect weapon to jab an eye and escape.
She clutched it tightly in her hand, about to turn when someone grabbed her shoulder.
“Kyaa!”
Serret screamed, whipping around.
“Ahhh!”
Jeremy screamed too—his face identical to hers in shock.
“What the—Jeremy! You scared me!”
Her knees trembling from fright, Serret shouted angrily at him.
“I was more startled! Why scream all of a sudden?”
Jeremy pressed a hand to his chest, breathing heavily.
“Why sneak up and grab my shoulder without a word? You could’ve called my name!”
“I was going to call you—when I grabbed you.”
Jeremy looked wronged.
“Useless as always.”
“That’s too harsh, Serret. Towards your brother?”
He pouted with hurt.
“Want me to be harsher?”
“…No.”
Jeremy quickly shook his head.
“So why did you follow me? Did you have something to say?”
Serret sighed and resumed walking. Jeremy hurried to match her stride.
“Serret…”
He glanced at her, lips twitching, as if he had something serious to say.
“If you’re going to talk about some new business venture or something, don’t bother.”
“It’s not that. …You heard it too, didn’t you?”
“Heard what?”
“About His Grace the Duke and Lady Elliot.”
Jeremy finally spoke. The ballroom chatter about Yuan and Lydia had spread so much even Jeremy had heard. About what kind of relationship they had.
“Yes. I know.”
Serret answered flatly.
“Serret.”
He stopped walking and looked at her with concern. She also stopped, and seeing his worried expression under the lamplight, she let out a chuckle. At least her brother cared.
“Are you alright?”
Jeremy asked anxiously.
“And if I’m not?”
She smiled faintly in return. She had walked into hell of her own will—there was no helping it.
“Grand Duke Popplewell himself said so. That His Grace will handle things properly. I think so too. It’s Duke Frektuster, after all. He won’t act unreasonably.”
Watching her brother try to comfort her, Serret smiled bitterly.
Yuan Frektuster was not as reasonable as Jeremy imagined. At least, not when it came to Lydia.
“So don’t worry too much.”
Jeremy avoided her gaze as he spoke.
“Brother, you’re feeling guilty, aren’t you?”
His refusal to meet her eyes pricked at her.
“You wanted me to break off the engagement, but because of you, I couldn’t. The deed to the house… no, never mind.”
Jeremy swallowed his words. The deed was still in Yuan’s hands. If Serret broke off the engagement, they might never get it back.
“Don’t worry, Jeremy. It’s all my choice. Accepting his proposal in the past, deciding to marry now—that was me.”
“Serret…”
“I’ll get through this myself. So don’t worry about me. Just finish your studies properly. And no more troublemaking.”
“…Fine.”
Jeremy answered gloomily.
“Let’s take a walk together before we head back.”
Smiling, Serret linked arms with him. Despite the mess he caused, Jeremy was still a good brother.
As children, when Serret broke a vase, he had taken the blame. When their mother died, he had comforted her bravely, crying only in secret.
Because of such memories, Serret could never fully hate him.
“Maybe His Grace is a better man than you think… or maybe not.”
If he were truly good, he would’ve already returned the deed. Jeremy honestly wasn’t sure if Yuan was good or not.
“What was that?”
Serret burst out laughing at his contradictory words. Jeremy was hopeless.
“Anyway, if anything happens, tell me right away. I’ll come running.”
“How reassuring. To have my brother.”
Serret chuckled. It was the warmth of family she hadn’t felt in so long. For once, the deep loneliness of her past life seemed to ease.
⚜ ⚜ ⚜
Even while conversing with others, Yuan’s eyes restlessly searched the ballroom. Serret was nowhere to be seen.
“It’s about time we learn His Majesty’s intentions.”
“It seems he intends to grant Lady Elliot the Emrat estate.”
At those words, Count Mont—one of the Emperor’s closest aides—lowered his voice.
A murmur of dismay spread.
“Will His Highness the Crown Prince really stand by and watch that?”
“Who knows. Even if he opposes it… But you all saw it today, didn’t you? His Majesty seated Lady Elliot beside him.”
“What do you think His Highness will do, Duke Frektuster?”
Count Mont probed, looking at Yuan.
Of everyone there, Yuan was closest to the Crown Prince. They had childhood ties, and the Prince had long shown interest in Yuan’s enterprises.
“His Highness is cautious. He rarely speaks hastily.”
Yuan finally answered, abandoning his search for Serret with his eyes.
But everyone knew—it was Yuan himself who was truly being cautious with his words.
The Duke of Frektuster never spoke recklessly. Though the youngest among them, his prudence put even old men of eighty to shame.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
Unable to bear his growing unease, Yuan left the group. He needed to find her.
Surely she hadn’t left with another man again, using illness as an excuse? Or worse, was she with someone else right now?
The thought of any man lingering near Serret made him scowl. Jack Clarke’s earlier gaze at her resurfaced in his mind, darkening his expression.
How dare he.
Leaving the ballroom, Yuan stopped at a voice calling from behind.
“Yuan.”
It was Lydia’s voice.
