Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 229

“A quarrel…?”

Caroline asked in astonishment, and Cecilia blinked before walking out into the hallway.

“Hey, Ceci!”

Bernarda called after her, but she didn’t seem particularly inclined to stop her.

Just then, members of the Rosencrantz family began stepping into the corridor one by one as the door opened.

The first to appear was Guinevere. Without even glancing at Cecilia, she turned the corner and walked outside. The dismissive wave of her hand to the maid trailing her was filled with irritation.

Next, Nigel and Ulysses exited the room, looking in opposite directions as though they were strangers.

Both had open wounds on their lips, and their disheveled hair hinted at a chaotic altercation.

Nigel, who had turned his head to the right, was the first to make eye contact with Cecilia. Seemingly unfazed by the scratches on his face, he twisted his lips into a sardonic smirk before turning and walking away.

Cecilia watched his retreating back, her mouth slightly open.

‘What’s gotten into him all of a sudden?’

Whatever else could be said about him, Nigel was quick to assess situations. Despite his tendency to act with his fists, he wasn’t one to resort to violence indiscriminately.

And yet, here he was, engaging in a fight with his brother in a situation that called for caution and deliberation.

‘Why is he acting so out of character? And why now of all times? Is he trying to mess everything up on purpose?’

In any negotiation, respect and trust between the parties involved were as crucial as the terms themselves. Nigel’s actions were an affront to that—disrespectful and outright rude.

Putting his emotions above the importance of the deal, he had crossed a line.

‘…That damned fool.’

Cecilia clenched her fists. Indeed, he was a wild card, impossible to control or tame. He was the type to break free of chains before they could bind him, making it futile to try to treat him like a dog to be trained.

Yes, his behavior was irritating and frustrating, but at least it wasn’t surprising.

‘But Ulysses on the other hand… I didn’t think he’d stoop to this.’

Unlike Nigel, Ulysses stood motionless in the spot where Nigel had brushed past him with a taunting smirk.

When he noticed Cecilia peeking out from beyond the doorway, he stopped in his tracks, adjusting his stance as his gaze locked onto hers.

His expression was unabashedly direct. Naturally, his face was just as visible to her—bloodied and battered far worse than Nigel’s.

‘That’s what happens when someone who’s used to holding only a pen throws punches.’

Even so, he didn’t display any sign of pain. He didn’t try to hide his bruised face, lower his head, or quickly flee the scene.

Defeat borne of violence seemed to hold no shame for him. In fact, it didn’t appear to bother him in the slightest. He remained the most composed person present.

Which made it all the more puzzling why someone like him had chosen to resort to violence.

‘The reason’s obvious. Nigel must have provoked him first.’

But Ulysses had never before risen to Nigel’s provocations. He had always stood his ground silently, never retaliating.

This had never happened before. Not once.

Suddenly, her mind drifted to words he had spoken once, long ago—words that felt almost like a confession.

“……”

Cecilia averted her gaze, choosing to ignore him. A fleeting silence passed. Then, the sound of footsteps echoed low in the hallway, gradually fading into the distance.

***

Nigel refused to take the carriage. He disliked the idea of sharing it with Guinevere and her son, and their destinations were different anyway.

“Still, shouldn’t you see your father? Get some treatment when you’re home…”

Guinevere feigned concern as she spoke. Marquis Rosencrantz had just arrived in Mannheim, dragging his ailing body to show his face at the assembly.

Nigel scoffed and let her words slide past him without a second thought.

Treatment? More like more scars. Going home would only earn him another beating with a cane.

If he headed straight to the barracks instead, Guinevere would no doubt parade Ulysses’ bruised face before their father, painting Nigel as the aggressor. But that wasn’t a big deal either.

It was the same story every time in his family. No matter what he did, he was the unfilial eldest son, while Ulysses was the dutiful one.

This time, the broken engagement was just more fuel for Guinevere’s fire. Her sharp tongue would burn even brighter, no doubt.

If she could use the failed engagement to further tarnish Nigel’s reputation, she would relish the opportunity.

‘That woman would do that and worse.’

Nigel kicked a stone toward the departing carriage. The stone struck a wheel before rolling away, and he snorted at the sight.