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Chapter 50
“Miss, a letter arrived from the Marquess Soro’s residence.”
A few days later, Damia paused with her hand reaching for a cookie.
“From the Marquess Soro’s residence?”
She quickly took the letter.
The envelope was a soft pink, and a sweet perfume scent wafted to her nose.
‘It seems Drury sent it herself.’
Since the boating accident two years ago, there had been no contact between them.
No matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t imagine any reason why she would receive a letter.
“Miss, what’s the matter?”
Romie asked anxiously as Damia tore open the envelope with a knife.
Her brown eyes were wide, almost frightened.
“Hmm… She invited me to a party.”
“Eh? Miss Drury?”
“It seems it’s for her coming-of-age ceremony.”
Romie clapped her hands together suddenly, as if something had just occurred to her.
“Now that you mention it, it must be this year! I remember preparing it when I was at the Marquess’ residence.”
“Eh? That was two years ago.”
“Oh, but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime coming-of-age ceremony, and she started fussing over us even back then.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Romie.”
Damia had vaguely assumed Drury was the same age as Cassian, but it seemed she was actually a year older.
“Still, I didn’t expect her to invite me too. I wonder what her intention is.”
“Indeed. Miss, are you going?”
Romie subtly watched Damia’s reaction, her face a little uneasy.
“I can’t not go after being invited. Hmm… what should I give as a gift…”
“And the Young Viscount? Will he be going with you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Eh? Why not?”
“He’s away for a while. There’s urgent business.”
Damia spoke carefully, avoiding mentioning the Emperor’s orders openly.
“Of all times…”
Romie muttered softly under her breath.
“Could… you not go? I’m worried since the Young Viscount isn’t there.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“It feels odd that the coming-of-age party is happening right now. And that she suddenly invited you too.”
“Hmm… it is strange that the invitation arrived so late if the ceremony is this week.”
If the ceremony had been planned for years, invitations would have been sent at least a few months prior.
Of course, Damia might not be considered a VIP by Drury, so that could explain the delay.
“But also… Miss Drury was born in the middle of winter.”
“What?”
“No matter how favorable the weather, isn’t it strange to hold a party half a year early?”
“Indeed. It’s unusually early.”
It might be an overreaction, but it seemed like someone was trying to take advantage of Cassian being away.
The Soro Marquess’ residence was known for its lavishness, but today was even more extravagant than usual.
‘It’s practically like a coronation.’
The vast hall was already packed with guests.
Several large, intricate crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and dozens of candles cast dazzling light across the room.
The highlight was the red camellias decorating the hall.
‘I heard they only bloom in winter.’
No matter what trick they used, the camellias looked as if they had just bloomed, full of life.
The Soro Marquess’ family prestige was evident in every detail of the party.
“Thank you all for coming.”
At that moment, the central staircase revealed the star of the event.
Drury literally sparkled.
Her snow-white dress was studded with diamonds so densely that each movement seemed to sprinkle stardust.
Her vivid blue eyes drew attention, followed by honey-blonde hair adorned with white camellias.
Perhaps because she had lost her babyish roundness, she looked more mature. The contours of her face were sharper, bringing her unique delicate beauty to its peak.
She was unnaturally beautiful—almost dangerously so.
However, she looked less like a girl celebrating her coming-of-age and more like a bride about to walk down the aisle.
“What a familiar face.”
Drury’s gaze cut through the crowd and landed squarely on Damia.
It was as if she had been looking for her from the start.
“Ah!”
Damia was startled, thinking she had made a sound herself.
It was Romie, who had followed her. She was trembling pitifully.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I think she saw this way.”
Romie whispered softly.
“It’s okay. I told you not to follow me.”
“I was just worried about leaving you alone, Miss.”
Damia let out a small sigh.
She could only hope that Drury wouldn’t recognize Romie today.
Drury was now descending the stairs, escorted by the Marquess Soro.
She greeted the distinguished guests in front of her with a perfect smile. Everyone’s eyes were glued to her.
‘Maybe I just imagined our eyes meeting,’ Damia thought in relief.
But then Drury slowly turned her head—and again, found Damia exactly.
Her steps toward Damia were confident, without the slightest hesitation.
Even though Damia was standing in a corner of the hall with the other servants, trying to stay out of the way.
“She… she’s coming this way?”
“…Seems like it.”
As Drury approached, a sweet fragrance grew stronger.
Romie retched slightly, as if the smell brought back unpleasant memories.
“Are you okay, Romie?”
“Ah, Miss. I need to excuse myself for a moment. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Romie tried to turn away in a hurry.
“Ah!”
Unfortunately, she came face-to-face with Drury approaching from that direction.
Even without touching, Drury’s voice rose dramatically.
The wine glass she was holding swayed violently in midair.
“…!”
Red liquid spilled toward Damia, leaving no time to avoid it.
The hall fell silent in an instant.
Romie, who had stopped retching, hiccupped uncontrollably.
“Oh my, I’m sorry.”
Drury lowered her eyebrows.
Though she looked genuinely apologetic, there was almost no sign of surprise on her face.
“Luckily, this beautiful dress didn’t get wet.”
Indeed.
Red stains marked Damia’s neck and face, but her dress remained unharmed.
Drury took out a handkerchief and stepped close. The sweet fragrance was almost overwhelming.
“I’m really sorry. You startled me.”
She gently wiped Damia’s cheek, her touch tender.
But Damia felt queasy, perhaps because of Drury’s scent. Cold sweat broke out on her skin.
“All done.”
A small murmur rose among the guests.
Drury was the eldest daughter of the Soro Marquess, one of the oldest families in the West.
She was naturally haughty, and such behavior was considered noble.
Yet here she was, personally helping after her own mistake, showing an unexpectedly kind side.
“It’s fine. You didn’t do it on purpose anyway.”
“Thank you for being so gracious, Miss Ponti.”
Drury’s gaze shifted to Romie.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t…”
“It’s okay.”
Romie trembled as she apologized, but Drury didn’t seem angry at all.
It was unlike the past, when she would have blamed Romie for things beyond her fault.
“Wait, you are…”
Drury narrowed her eyes. Romie shrank back, frightened.
‘Did she recognize Romie?’
Romie had been confident that Drury wouldn’t remember her, having swapped so many maids over time.
But Romie had been brought in by Damia before Drury had a chance to dismiss her.
The farewell had been memorable enough that it wouldn’t be strange if Drury still remembered her vividly.
‘Should I make an excuse about the household not having enough maids?’
Damia was trying to decide when to shield Romie behind her.
“Your face looks oddly familiar. Not important, though.”
Drury seemed uninterested in Romie. Damia’s eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected reaction.
“Oh, Miss Ponti, since you seem quite startled, perhaps you should take a little break.”
“Eh? I’m fine…”
“I’ve prepared a separate resting area. Take a short break.”
Drury grabbed Damia’s hand. The grip felt more like a command than a suggestion.
“But be sure to return before the first dance starts.”
Drury whispered into Damia’s ear.
“I’ll tell you first, Damia. A major announcement is coming soon.”
