Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 282

‘When on earth did she find the time for that? What triggered it?’

There were more than a few questions, but there was no way to get answers from the current Lilith, who knew nothing.

“So if you’re ignoring your mother too, just remember you were still a child I carried for ten months in my womb…”

“Miss Lilith, I have a question.”

“No more of the same questions, please.”

“It’s not that…”

Once Lilith started complaining, it was hard to get her to stop. The best way to cut off a barrage of grumbling was to throw out a new topic of interest.

“I just wanted to ask why you’re still staying here all day.”

“Both my parents have left to tour the Rosencrantz territory, so for a while, there’s no one to stop you from going out, is there, Miss Lilith?”

“…Oh my, you’re right.”

Her face slowly brightened.

“Ceci, do you want to take a walk with me tomorrow morning?”

Cecilia smiled vaguely. She didn’t want to keep Lilith trapped in this stifling place, but if the two of them went out together, it was obvious they’d end up clashing with Margaret.

“I’ll just stay quietly in my room. There’s a book I want to read.”

***

Cecilia waited for a reply from Nigel, and for her father, who had gone off to Rosencrantz Marquisate, to return home empty-handed.

Even after several days, there was no sign of a response from Nigel.

Well, that was no surprise.

She could vividly imagine him scoffing, ‘Greedy as ever’, and tearing the letter first horizontally, then vertically, and letting it fall to the floor.

But it was only to be expected that her father’s proposal would be rejected.

The betrothal was likely to fall through. Not only did Marquis Rosencrantz not think highly of her, but it was clear as day that Nigel would vehemently refuse to become her partner in a relationship that resembled marriage.

The Nigel she knew was that kind of man. Just because they’d grown a little closer, did she really think his nature had changed?

He understood the importance of political marriage between nobles. He was not some fool who would throw away his own worth and let himself be swept away by a moment’s lust.

Whatever else, he would never put himself in a losing position.

***

Adam returned. His face was beaming.

‘What could have happened at the Rosencrantz Marquisate to make him so pleased…?’

The ominous suspicion didn’t last long.

It wasn’t Bernarda who stepped down from the next carriage, but a red-haired young man.

Still strikingly handsome. And still with that look in his eyes that promised trouble.

Spotting Cecilia among the gathered crowd, he curled his lips into a smirk.

“To think you’ve come out to greet me… I hardly know what to do with myself.”

***

Adam generously permitted the notorious and much-gossiped-about lovers their private talk. In fact, it might be better to say he actively encouraged it—certainly more than Cecilia wanted.

Walking alone in the garden with Nigel, Cecilia muttered,

“Blockhead…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I didn’t expect a blockhead like you to call me that.”

He heard me…?

“Why?”

“Why else? Your taste in men is terrible.”

That was a hard truth to deny, but did she really have to hear it from this man?

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“I am. Not only do you, a half-breed, treat me like a fool, you even let all sorts of idiotic fools into your household.”

“……?”

It took her a while to understand what he meant.

“That was just right after my social debut, so as a matter of etiquette— Wait, how did you even know about that?”

“There’s nothing I can’t find out if I investigate in Caswick.”

“So you’re saying you looked into me?”

“No? I just happened to hear about it.”

“Just happened to…?”

“Damn it, you still have that habit of nitpicking words. Let’s just move on.”

He loosened his tie as if he were frustrated.

“Looks like you’re doing well. For someone at the center of a scandal, your complexion is quite good.”

“Same to you.”

“Of course. Even when I’m hit, it barely shows.”

“You’re good at getting by.”

“It’s natural.”

“You must have pretty thick skin then…”

“I said it’s natural.”

“Yes, it must be nice to have a face that’s perfect for getting punched.”

Honestly, at this point, she thought he’d at least throw a punch or curse at her. But contrary to her expectations, Nigel laughed.

“You’re right.”

“……”

“It must be that I’m a true aesthete. I can’t stand to see a face God put so much effort into get scarred.”

She couldn’t stand his shamelessness any longer.

Cecilia stopped and turned sharply to ask,

“What’s your goal?”

“What?”

“You didn’t really come all this way because you wanted to marry me, did you? Isn’t that right?”

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