🔊 TTS Settings
~Chapter 51~
Riden was delayed helping with the café’s renovations.
She quickly got into a carriage and headed to Baroness Florence’s estate.
‘The salon must’ve already started. I wonder if they’ll let me join late?’
When the carriage stopped, Riden looked up at the estate through the window.
‘It’s bigger and grander than I expected.’
Of course, compared to the duke’s mansion she recently visited, this felt more like a cramped basement room—but that place was a clear exception.
In the original novel, Riden had rarely visited the Baroness’s home. Most interactions happened at the duke’s estate or in secret. So this was her first real step into the villain’s domain.
“Miss, it seems many guests have arrived. There’s no room for the carriage at the front, so we’ll have to go around to the back.”
Said Corel, who had returned to the carriage.
“Go ahead and park. I’ll wait here.”
“If it takes too long, go in first.”
“Alright.”
Just then, what looked like the Baroness’s steward approached.
“May I see your invitation and have you sign the guestbook?”
As Riden wrote her name, she asked:
“There must be a lot of guests today?”
“Yes, Madam prepared quite thoroughly. We appreciate your presence.”
When she finished signing, he asked:
“Would you like to go straight into the ongoing salon, or begin with the garden tour as originally scheduled?”
The steward was courteous but had a touch of slick charm.
Riden glanced at the event brochure he handed her. Before the main discussion, guests were offered a tour of the estate and garden.
‘She’ll probably make a long speech to convince all the moms with daughters.’
Riden had no interest in that.
‘I only care about the atmosphere at the end of the discussion.’
‘Since I’m already here in the villainess’s lair, might as well take a look around.’
The coachman and nanny were still out parking, so Riden agreed.
“Let’s go.”
Maybe it was because she’d just recently walked through the vast, beautiful garden of the duke’s estate, but…
The Baroness’s garden wasn’t that impressive.
Not because of its size—but because it lacked harmony and design.
As Riden casually looked around, the steward suddenly stopped.
“Oh dear.”
The tea table in the center of the garden was messy with used dishes. The finger foods and drinks were all gone.
“The maids must’ve all gone inside… Would you mind waiting a moment?”
Riden nodded silently. Honestly, she was nervous about stepping into the salon while the Baroness was mid-speech.
Getting a drink before going in wouldn’t be a bad idea.
She sat on a bench, listening faintly to the laughter echoing from inside the estate.
‘Sounds like the guests are enjoying it…’
Then came the sound of footsteps approaching.
When Riden turned her head quickly—her eyes met with a man in a white ceremonial uniform, like something from the temple.
His amethyst eyes shone mysteriously under grayish hair.
“….”
He silently gave her a slight nod. Riden, seated on the bench, nodded back.
He seemed to have come out for a smoke. He was holding a pipe.
They shared a quiet moment.
Then, without even lighting the pipe, the man struck a match—only to drop and extinguish it underfoot. The sound drew Riden’s attention.
She let her gaze rest briefly on his foot, snuffing out the match—then looked away.
“You’re here for the salon, aren’t you?”
It seemed like he was asking why she was alone in the garden.
“Yes. I arrived late, so the steward was giving me a tour of the garden first.”
He nodded subtly, understanding.
Then he tucked his pipe back into his jacket pocket.
‘Why is he staring so obviously?’
Only the soft splashing of the fountain filled the silence, but the man’s gaze clung to her.
Riden turned away from his direct stare and asked:
“You’re staring… quite a bit.”
“Ah, my apologies. I’ve seen most of the women attending today, but you seem particularly young. I was just curious.”
His explanation and polite tone made sense.
Riden told him the truth:
“I don’t have parents who can attend events like this on my behalf.”
For some reason, that comment made his eyes widen.
“Ah.”
He sighed quietly, as if he had realized something.
“I’ve spoken too long. My apologies.”
“Not at all. It’s fine.”
“Would you mind if I sat quietly here for a bit? The estate is too full of women right now.”
“Go ahead.”
He sat at the edge of the bench, and they looked toward the fountain together.
‘Who is this guy?’
He spoke to her casually, like a fellow noble, and his attire suggested someone of status… maybe from the temple?
Riden found him difficult—he didn’t talk much, which made his presence feel heavy.
After gently tapping his foot, he finally spoke:
“Since you came here, I assume you’re interested in marriage?”
“Most debuting young ladies are, right? I guess I’m the same.”
“…I suppose so.”
Their conversation was sporadic and awkward.
Riden rubbed her right forearm with her left hand—a habit she had when nervous or uncomfortable.
‘Something’s off…’
It was so quiet that even the fountain’s sound seemed to vanish.
Feeling the weird tension, she glanced sideways—and noticed him staring at her rubbing her arm.
There was a light in his previously flat-colored eyes.
Riden blinked slowly, flustered.
“Um…”
Before she realized it, the man had reached out and was holding her left hand.
“Please let go.”
“Ah.”
He seemed shocked by his own actions—like he hadn’t meant to do it.
‘What is with this guy? He seems… really sketchy!’
He quickly released her hand, then clasped his own as if unsure why he’d done it.
“My apologies. I keep doing things I shouldn’t.”
Just then, the steward returned.
“Young Master?”
Riden had just been wondering about his identity—“Young Master”?
‘He’s the Baroness’s son? One of the two… Ugh.’
Her face twisted with instinctive disgust.
He stood and took a sip of the drink the steward brought—but grimaced.
“Bring another one.”
“Yes, sir.”
Knowing now that he was part of the Florence family made staying here even more uncomfortable.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”
She gave a polite nod and started walking away.
Then from behind—
“You’re running off as soon as you find out who I am?”
‘Sharp one, huh.’
Time to bluff.
“I should head into the salon before it’s too late.”
“Didn’t Lady McCreary say she’s interested in marriage? Don’t you want to marry well?”
‘He knows who I am?’
Meeting the son of the original novel’s villainess was surprising enough—but for him to know her?
Riden turned back toward him, wary and curious.
