Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 207

Christian casually strolled into the training grounds, glancing around without much thought.

And then, he encountered the worst possible superior officer.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to show up before sunset.”

“…”

“Earlier than expected, hm?”

Damn, he let his guard down.

Finally face-to-face with Nigel in the palace, Christian forced a sheepish smile.

“Uh, Lord Rosencrantz, let’s not get too carried away…”

“Rosencrantz? Are you out of your mind? This is the training ground. Do you not understand the chain of command? Or have you skipped out so often you’ve forgotten?”

“Haha, Sir Nigel, I misspoke for a moment. Come on, let’s not…”

“It’s too late.”

Nigel drew the sword from his belt.

“I’ll make sure this sticks in your memory.”

That mischievous grin might have seemed playful to some, but to Christian, it was nothing short of demonic.

* * *

“Ugh…”

By dusk, with crows cawing overhead, Christian hobbled out of the palace, bruised and battered from the so-called sparring session.

“Damn it, that low-born border marquis’s son dares…”

Everything ached. Nigel had skillfully avoided any fatal blows, instead focusing on delivering a relentless beating before leaving Christian with a not-so-subtle threat to show up again tomorrow, fully intact.

“Damn it, damn it…”

As Christian trudged along, gripping his side, someone called out from behind.

“Hey, Sir Christian! Long time no see!”

“…?”

It took Christian a moment to recognize the man—someone he used to hang out with at the club, a lackey from back in the day.

If it weren’t for their shared position as royal knights, this second son of a low baron’s family would never have had any connection to the Pierce family.

The moment Christian remembered the man’s background, his face twisted with discomfort.

“Sir? We’re outside. Watch your words.”

“…My apologies, Young Duke.”

The other man quickly retracted his words. Bruised and scraped up, Christian exaggeratedly lifted his chin, pretending to be fine.

“What do you want?”

“Well, it’s nothing much. A few of us were heading out for drinks and wondered if you’d join us.”

It had been a while since Christian last met up with those club goers. They weren’t valuable connections, but…

Christian raised an eyebrow.

“Are there women?”

“No women, but we’ve got a fresh deck of cards polished and ready.”

“Cards? Are you suggesting poker?”

Christian had grown tired of gambling due to his grandmother’s addiction. And now, someone had the nerve to mention cards in front of him.

Already irritated, Christian’s mood plummeted even further.

“No thanks.”

“But didn’t you used to enjoy poker?”

“That was ages ago.”

Any game is fun when you start. But Christian had always been exceptionally lucky and quick to catch on. He won on luck where there were no seasoned players and caught onto cheats when they tried.

Poker had become no different from a child’s game to him.

‘Why would I bother with that? I always win anyway.’

Writing a letter to Caroline would be more productive than wasting time on poker.

With a shrug, Christian replied,

“You go ahead without me.”

“But it’s been a while since we’ve all gotten together for a drink…”

“Do you really think you’re closer to me than you are to a commoner?”

“…”

The other man pursed his lips, his face flushed red with embarrassment, and bowed. Christian turned sharply, leaving him standing in the middle of the street.

“A baron’s little runt dares…”

* * *

That afternoon, after forcing herself through a walk with Ulysses, Cecilia received an unexpected invitation.

Normally, she avoided unannounced invitations, but today was different. The sender was none other than Casey Heens, daughter of Count Heens.

Casey and Cecilia’s gatherings were kept secret. Instead of meeting at each other’s manors, they would rent a private room at a small tearoom.

“Miss Cassie, are you inside?”

When Cecilia gave Casey’s slightly altered name at the door and stepped into the private room, Casey, who had been waiting, greeted her enthusiastically with a wave.

“Miss Cecilia, over here.”

“It’s been a while, Miss Casey. Not since the tea party.”

“Yes, I’ve heard bits and pieces about your dazzling debut into society. I wanted to join the line at the Rosencrantz estate with a bouquet in hand, but, unfortunately, I wasn’t able to attend the Pierce family’s party.”