Claisey felt her mind go blank. Could there be a more unromantic proposal than this? Then again, it sounded more like a business merger than a marriage proposal.
Claisey rested her forehead in her hand.
“Uh….”
The words wouldn’t come. As Claisey let out a vague groan, Dernic continued, sounding like a passionate merchant.
“Think about it. If we get married, all our problems are solved, aren’t they? I get to inherit my family’s wealth, and you get to inherit yours.”
“Hmm.”
“Since we have similar philosophies, we’ll get along just fine. We aren’t the type to be obsessive, right? Imagine if we were married to someone as stuffy as Kishin. Good heavens. We’re doing this for the inheritance—how stifling would it be if we were forced to love each other for the rest of our lives?”
“Umm….”
“If we marry, we can live like friends, like partners. We can maintain a marriage without restraining each other. We can have little flings on the side occasionally, but in the end, we always return to each other. How about it?”
“Ah….”
Claisey was in such a state of panic that she couldn’t give a proper answer. To be honest, she had occasionally thought about a contract marriage herself.
But that was just a passing thought; she had no real intention of going through with it. Who knew when or how the heart of a contract spouse might change? A contract marriage carried great risks.
For a contract marriage to be safe, the other party had to be so honorable that they would have nothing to gain by scamming her. But if they were that kind of person, they wouldn’t trust Claisey in return.
That was why Claisey had abandoned the idea long ago. And yet, here was Dernic suddenly proposing such a thing, making her temples throb.
It wasn’t that she was drawn to the idea. It was because every single word he spoke felt like a strike to her head.
When Dernic finally fell silent, Claisey couldn’t help but ask.
“In what world do we have similar philosophies?”
Dernic answered as if it were obvious.
“We’re both lighthearted.”
Claisey bristled and gripped her glass tightly.
“I am not!”
“You aren’t?”
“No! I don’t know why you think that, but I am not a lighthearted person.”
“But you said that to Kishin, didn’t you? You asked what difference it made if a heart changed in a year, a month, or a day if it was going to change anyway.”
She remembered saying something like that, but why did it sound so much more frivolous coming from Dernic? Claisey pressed her forehead and gritted her teeth.
“I was talking about heartbreak….”
“I know. In any case, it’s true that you change your mind quite quickly, right? I’m the same. But usually, people can’t do that.”
Anyone would become an expert at giving up on love if they spent years getting rejected. However, Claisey didn’t offer that explanation. There was no need to tell him she had lived her life getting dumped everywhere!
Instead, Claisey cut him off firmly.
“Think what you want. But I have no intention of entering a contract marriage with you.”
“Why?”
“There are two reasons.”
Dernic looked at her with a serious expression, clearly curious.
Claisey hesitated. The first reason was Merran. The second was that she couldn’t trust Dernic.
Since both were awkward to voice, she brushed it off.
“Both are secrets.”
“Hey, you can’t just stop mid-sentence! I’m curious!”
Dernic protested, but Claisey kept her mouth shut and shook her head resolutely.
Even after that, Dernic proposed a few more times, but she wouldn’t budge.
As they were bickering, Florence finally appeared. Whatever she had been doing—using the excuse of pickled radishes—she returned with a salad in her hands.
Florence looked at Claisey and Dernic in turn with a pleased smile, checking to see if there had been any progress while she was away.
Claisey glared at Florence, while Dernic continued his meal with a nonchalant air.
Seeing not even a hint of romance in the air, Florence slumped into her chair in disappointment.
* * *
After the meal, Dernic left first, and Claisey stayed at Florence’s house until evening.
After resting well, sharing childhood stories, and eating a warm dinner, Claisey’s legs felt capable again.
Florence’s new garden was too large to walk back through with a cane, so she sent a small carriage so Claisey could return easily.
The maid, Anna, nearly collapsed in surprise when Claisey stepped out of the carriage leaning on her cane.
“Oh my, Miss! What on earth were you doing to return like this!”
Merran fretted while supporting her.
“Aunt’s friend is too reckless. She knows you can’t use your legs if you push yourself even a little. Why does she always drag you around?”
“Stop it, both of you. I had a fun time.”
Claisey clicked her tongue in annoyance, tapped the ground with her cane, and signaled to Florence’s coachman that he could leave.
Merran pursed her lips but continued to support Claisey all the way back to her room.
Claisey had to suppress the urge to ask, “Are you really getting along with Dernic?”
After Merran and Anna finished their fuss and left, Claisey remained alone. Resting her chin on the windowsill, she stared outside and revisited the words Dernic had spouted so brazenly.
*So, let’s say Dernic misunderstood me as being like him. But what exactly does he think of Merran? Merran is popular. She isn’t someone who can’t tell who likes her and who doesn’t. So why are his attitudes toward us so different? If he likes Merran as she says, he wouldn’t have dared to bring up a contract marriage to me. What on earth is going on?*
* * *
On the first day, when Claisey was sick, Merran had clung to her bedside. This mischievous niece, who often caused her trouble, always acted this way—looking terrified—whenever Claisey was actually ill.
But by the next day, once Claisey was recovered enough to move around, Merran returned to her usual self and went off to play.
Claisey stayed holed up in the house for a few more days to recover her strength. Florence had her maid deliver a large basket of fruit three times.
Then, on the afternoon of December 17th, Florence came to see her. By then, Claisey was fully recovered and was riding a horse once around the garden.
“I’m relieved. I was worried you might have fallen ill because of me.”
Florence pretended to cry playfully, then reached out to take Claisey’s hand so she could dismount.
“Don’t cry. Even if I got sick, it wasn’t because of you. My health is just weak.”
Claisey pretended to wipe Florence’s tears, then patted her back with a loud thud.
“But it was too much for you to run off! Be honest. That day, you deliberately stepped away with the excuse of getting radishes, didn’t you?”
“It looked quite intimate between you two, no matter how I saw it!”
“We’re not like that at all!”
“Not like that? We’ll see!”
Florence laughed triumphantly, then pulled on Claisey’s ear and whispered.
“He even proposed to you, and you say it’s nothing?”
Claisey gave Florence’s back another thud.
“You were eavesdropping!”
Florence threw her hat aside and ran off. Only after chasing each other like a game of tag did the two finally calm down and sit on a bench to drink lemonade.
However, Florence’s visit had a purpose.
“The Capital is holding a massive New Year’s Festival. It lasts for two days.”
“I know. I’ve heard my eldest sister and her husband have been a few times.”
Claisey remembered the times she was left in charge of Merran from the end of the year to the beginning of the next, while her sister attended the festivities in the Capital.
Her parents were also invited, but since they were abroad, they attended foreign celebrations instead.
Florence said triumphantly,
“I was invited this time, too.”
“Congratulations! I heard it’s incredibly fancy and grand. That sounds fun!”
Claisey thought Florence had come to brag, so she cheered enthusiastically. Florence laughed loudly and pushed Claisey’s shoulder.
“I didn’t just come to brag. You know, in the Capital, the high nobility also host their own separate end-of-year or New Year’s parties.”
Florence pulled an invitation, decorated with gold and silver foil, from her pocket.
“Here. This is an invitation to the year-end party hosted by the Grand Duke Siwil’s household. I was lucky to get it. But I only managed to get one, so I don’t think I can go with you this time. It’s one person per invitation.”
Claisey was so surprised she couldn’t even take it; she just stared at Florence.
Grand Duke Siwil was the second son of the late Empress and the brother of the current Emperor. He was the most powerful royal among the Emperor’s brothers. An invitation from such a family was incredibly difficult to obtain.
Claisey pushed Florence’s hand back.
“But this is… no, it’s fine. You go. You haven’t been here long, have you? You should go and network. I’m grateful, but you need to establish yourself; it would be a burden if you gave it up. It makes me uncomfortable as your friend.”
Florence slapped the back of Claisey’s hand and tucked the invitation inside her glove.
“Forget it. I’m giving it to you because I can afford to.”
“What do you mean ‘afford to’?”
When Claisey asked again, Florence averted her gaze awkwardly.
“What are you talking about?”
Claisey tried to press for an answer, but Florence regained her composure and patted Claisey’s leg.
“Anyway, go and have a good time. Just don’t let Merran steal the invitation again!”