022. Impulse
'Do you want to look like a maid?'
'Hearing it, it doesn't seem so bad. It feels like playing with a maid.'
Two conflicting words entered Emilia's mind.
Do you like it or not? What on earth do you want me to do?
She frowned and thought hard, but then relaxed for a moment.
That man is a man who is not consistent in everything. There is no need to worry about his every whim.
“What does a title matter now? If we break off the engagement, we won’t see each other again.”
Even though he received the blow rather coldly, Hardius didn't care. Only one side of his cheek was slightly dented and then smoothed out again.
“...Yeah. It’s better not to be impatient. If you do, you’ll just end up making mistakes.”
The word 'mistake' digs uneasily into Emilia's heart.
“What do you mean by ‘mistake’? What do you mean? ...Surely... You’re not up to any weird things again...”
The ballroom scene came to mind as they spoke. Emilia straightened her back and glared at the man across from her.
“Yes, I understand. That... that was your doing too, right? The Countess of Luen’s ball.”
She thought he would make a face that seemed to have been hit with the point, but Hardius had a look on his face that said he had no idea what was going on. Although she was flustered, Emilia did not erase her suspicious expression.
“It’s a party that the Countess invited me to. It’s not just a dinner party, it’s a ball out of the blue... Isn’t that strange?”
“Were you invited to the party?”
“Are you pretending not to know? Odilia Luen. The Countess from Nowak... who lectures at Cavendish Manor... who invites people to her private residence...”
“I think I’ve heard that name before.”
At that moment, Emilia realized.
It's not that he's pretending not to know. He really doesn't know.
“Ah... It wasn’t the young master’s plan...”
The shoulders that had been tense slumped, and a hollow laugh flowed out. She could sense that Hardius was waiting for an explanation from the other side.
“...Actually, I was invited to a ball a few days ago. It was from a certain Countess. She was Odilia Luen, a very famous person in high society... She even said she was throwing a ball so suddenly that I thought it was all planned by the master. I thought you were going to make me practice your graduation dance there...”
Emilia, embarrassed by the fact that she had barked at the wrong tree, rubbed her empty neck.
“Anyway, I guess I’ll have to decline the invitation since it has nothing to do with you, Master. I was a bit curious about what a ‘ball’ was all about... but I already practiced the most important dance with you earlier...”
Emilia muttered without thinking. But did she read a faint regret in her tone? Hardius thought about something deeply and said,
“Do you want to go?”
And asked.
Emilia again responded to the unexpected surprise question,
"Yes."
And she spoke honestly.
What she said to Mitch a few days ago was true.
A slightly childish vanity that wants to dress up in a pretty dress and surprise everyone by becoming the perfect lady.
Above all, a ball is not just about dancing.
“I want to listen to music. I only know the piano and violin as instruments. But I heard that a chamber orchestra will play at Madame Luen’s ball. That’s why I wanted to go even more. Because I wanted to listen to music.”
She muttered dreamily, then smiled bitterly the next moment.
“But I think it would be better not to go. I won’t be welcome anyway.”
After finishing speaking, Emilia was overcome by a very strange feeling.
Strange. Why does she keep talking only to him? My head naturally turns to Hardius.
The back of her neck suddenly felt cold. It was because Hardius had a very worried expression on his face. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows looked quite serious.
“Why, why are you doing that?”
“Well, I don’t know if I can do it.”
Emilia's eyes widened as she realized what he meant.
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
It was no use shaking her head vigorously. Hardius muttered to himself without even pretending to see.
“It won’t be easy since it wasn’t planned, but if we do well, I think we can go together.”
Ugh, Emilia swallowed a groan.
“No, I didn’t mean to ask you to go with me...”
“What should I do...”
Emilia's patience completely ran out in front of Hardius, who pretended not to hear as if his ears were blocked.
“No, I’m not going. Don’t worry about it. It’s not hard to refuse an invitation...”
The eyes that had been frowning deeply began to slowly widen.
“A fiancé’s obligations are not one-sided. I can’t force them on you alone.”
“I’m telling you, it’s really okay. I don’t have even the slightest desire to go with you, Master...”
“I'm not sure either, but don't cancel.”
She had to refuse more strongly. If that didn't work, she was thinking of yelling at him to say no.
But why isn't her tongue moving? And why is her heart beating so hard?
Emilia was at a loss as she realized that what was welling up in her chest was anticipation. Fear and excitement were entangled like a complex thread.
The final silence lasted much longer than before.
It was only when the wick of the lamp had burned out more than halfway that Hardius's mouth opened again.
He stretched out his arm and opened the barn door slightly. The rain had eased, but it was still falling heavily.
Hardius, who was looking up at the sky, looked back at Emilia as if he had made up his mind.
“Wait here. I’ll have Beppy send you some clothes and an umbrella. I have to go straight to Nowak, so say goodbye here.”
“No, let’s go together.”
Emilia jumped up, still wrapped in a blanket.
“Just stay there.”
The man's gaze was too stubborn. She couldn't help but shiver and sit back down, wanting to deny it.
“Just tell me the date and place.”
"Yes?"
"The ball."
"Ah..."
Emilia reproached herself, thinking, 'Why am I like this?' but ended up repeating exactly what Countess Luen had told her.
“Just let me know if you need anything.”
“What do you need...?”
“Things like dresses or accessories.”
Emilia shook her head vigorously.
“No, I can take care of that.”
Hardius stared at Emilia silently. His piercing eyes held no emotion, but they looked as if they were criticizing her shabby dress.
“If you are worried that my attire may not meet your standards, Master...”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
She could feel the sincerity in the strong tone.
She knows. Hardius didn't say that simply because he was embarrassed by his fiancée's shabby clothes.
Despite this, Emilia ended up being upset for no reason.
“Anyway, I don’t like it. I don’t want to receive anything more from you, Master.”
“You are the Meyer family’s fiancée. You attend social events with the family name on your back.”
“I really get tired of hearing that family story.”
Emilia deliberately made herself more sarcastic, and Hardius pretended not to hear.
“That problem later.”
He threw the door wide open.
“Then take care.”
Without giving her a chance to answer, the sturdy figure disappeared into the rain.
Hardius arrived at Basilion House late at night.
As the carriage lights pierced the pitch darkness and reached the sign with the family crest, the butler Tobias opened the door as if he had been waiting for it.
He noticed at a glance that the clothes the master was wearing were different from when he had set out. His hair, which was wet and disheveled, was also different than usual.
"Master..."
“I got caught in the rain, somehow.”
Hardius patted the butler on the shoulder as if to tell him not to worry and went straight to the bathroom.
The servants became busy. Pip, the servant, took a bath and prepared the bed while his master changed his clothes.
After a while, Hardius immersed himself in the hot water. His stiff muscles relaxed, and the something that had been surging in his chest also subsided.
He couldn't control his impulse and did something he hadn't planned on doing. He asked her to go to the ball with him...
It was as unexpected as a sudden downpour. He had to immediately change his plans and calculate each variable.
What should he do first?
He should bring forward the breakfast meeting of the King and the Parliamentarians. He should also double-check the list of attendees. He should not forget to contact reporters from newspapers such as Huntington's in advance. The first priority is to form public opinion. Once he does that, the rest will be easy...
Hardius's head, which had been spinning busily, suddenly became blocked.
There were more than a few things he had to prepare for since something went wrong, but his thoughts kept scattering like grains of sand.
A slender wrist that could be held tightly in one hand, and a subtle body scent like a wild flower.
With a terribly innocent face, she shouted for them to take shelter from the rain...
Hardius's eyes were tightly shut.
It was a gesture to shake it off, but instead, the aftertaste spread more thickly along with the hot steam.
“Fuck.”
The arm that was draped over the bathtub strained to cover his eyes.
'Do you want to look like a maid?'
'Hearing it, it doesn't seem so bad. It feels like playing with a maid.'
Two conflicting words entered Emilia's mind.
Do you like it or not? What on earth do you want me to do?
She frowned and thought hard, but then relaxed for a moment.
That man is a man who is not consistent in everything. There is no need to worry about his every whim.
“What does a title matter now? If we break off the engagement, we won’t see each other again.”
Even though he received the blow rather coldly, Hardius didn't care. Only one side of his cheek was slightly dented and then smoothed out again.
“...Yeah. It’s better not to be impatient. If you do, you’ll just end up making mistakes.”
The word 'mistake' digs uneasily into Emilia's heart.
“What do you mean by ‘mistake’? What do you mean? ...Surely... You’re not up to any weird things again...”
The ballroom scene came to mind as they spoke. Emilia straightened her back and glared at the man across from her.
“Yes, I understand. That... that was your doing too, right? The Countess of Luen’s ball.”
She thought he would make a face that seemed to have been hit with the point, but Hardius had a look on his face that said he had no idea what was going on. Although she was flustered, Emilia did not erase her suspicious expression.
“It’s a party that the Countess invited me to. It’s not just a dinner party, it’s a ball out of the blue... Isn’t that strange?”
“Were you invited to the party?”
“Are you pretending not to know? Odilia Luen. The Countess from Nowak... who lectures at Cavendish Manor... who invites people to her private residence...”
“I think I’ve heard that name before.”
At that moment, Emilia realized.
It's not that he's pretending not to know. He really doesn't know.
“Ah... It wasn’t the young master’s plan...”
The shoulders that had been tense slumped, and a hollow laugh flowed out. She could sense that Hardius was waiting for an explanation from the other side.
“...Actually, I was invited to a ball a few days ago. It was from a certain Countess. She was Odilia Luen, a very famous person in high society... She even said she was throwing a ball so suddenly that I thought it was all planned by the master. I thought you were going to make me practice your graduation dance there...”
Emilia, embarrassed by the fact that she had barked at the wrong tree, rubbed her empty neck.
“Anyway, I guess I’ll have to decline the invitation since it has nothing to do with you, Master. I was a bit curious about what a ‘ball’ was all about... but I already practiced the most important dance with you earlier...”
Emilia muttered without thinking. But did she read a faint regret in her tone? Hardius thought about something deeply and said,
“Do you want to go?”
And asked.
Emilia again responded to the unexpected surprise question,
"Yes."
And she spoke honestly.
What she said to Mitch a few days ago was true.
A slightly childish vanity that wants to dress up in a pretty dress and surprise everyone by becoming the perfect lady.
Above all, a ball is not just about dancing.
“I want to listen to music. I only know the piano and violin as instruments. But I heard that a chamber orchestra will play at Madame Luen’s ball. That’s why I wanted to go even more. Because I wanted to listen to music.”
She muttered dreamily, then smiled bitterly the next moment.
“But I think it would be better not to go. I won’t be welcome anyway.”
After finishing speaking, Emilia was overcome by a very strange feeling.
Strange. Why does she keep talking only to him? My head naturally turns to Hardius.
The back of her neck suddenly felt cold. It was because Hardius had a very worried expression on his face. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows looked quite serious.
“Why, why are you doing that?”
“Well, I don’t know if I can do it.”
Emilia's eyes widened as she realized what he meant.
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
It was no use shaking her head vigorously. Hardius muttered to himself without even pretending to see.
“It won’t be easy since it wasn’t planned, but if we do well, I think we can go together.”
Ugh, Emilia swallowed a groan.
“No, I didn’t mean to ask you to go with me...”
“What should I do...”
Emilia's patience completely ran out in front of Hardius, who pretended not to hear as if his ears were blocked.
“No, I’m not going. Don’t worry about it. It’s not hard to refuse an invitation...”
“No, don't say no just yet. I'll make time. So we can go together.”
“A fiancé’s obligations are not one-sided. I can’t force them on you alone.”
“I’m telling you, it’s really okay. I don’t have even the slightest desire to go with you, Master...”
“I'm not sure either, but don't cancel.”
She had to refuse more strongly. If that didn't work, she was thinking of yelling at him to say no.
But why isn't her tongue moving? And why is her heart beating so hard?
Emilia was at a loss as she realized that what was welling up in her chest was anticipation. Fear and excitement were entangled like a complex thread.
The final silence lasted much longer than before.
It was only when the wick of the lamp had burned out more than halfway that Hardius's mouth opened again.
He stretched out his arm and opened the barn door slightly. The rain had eased, but it was still falling heavily.
Hardius, who was looking up at the sky, looked back at Emilia as if he had made up his mind.
“Wait here. I’ll have Beppy send you some clothes and an umbrella. I have to go straight to Nowak, so say goodbye here.”
“No, let’s go together.”
Emilia jumped up, still wrapped in a blanket.
“Just stay there.”
The man's gaze was too stubborn. She couldn't help but shiver and sit back down, wanting to deny it.
“Just tell me the date and place.”
"Yes?"
"The ball."
"Ah..."
Emilia reproached herself, thinking, 'Why am I like this?' but ended up repeating exactly what Countess Luen had told her.
“Just let me know if you need anything.”
“What do you need...?”
“Things like dresses or accessories.”
Emilia shook her head vigorously.
“No, I can take care of that.”
Hardius stared at Emilia silently. His piercing eyes held no emotion, but they looked as if they were criticizing her shabby dress.
“If you are worried that my attire may not meet your standards, Master...”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
She could feel the sincerity in the strong tone.
She knows. Hardius didn't say that simply because he was embarrassed by his fiancée's shabby clothes.
Despite this, Emilia ended up being upset for no reason.
“Anyway, I don’t like it. I don’t want to receive anything more from you, Master.”
“You are the Meyer family’s fiancée. You attend social events with the family name on your back.”
“I really get tired of hearing that family story.”
Emilia deliberately made herself more sarcastic, and Hardius pretended not to hear.
“That problem later.”
He threw the door wide open.
“Then take care.”
Without giving her a chance to answer, the sturdy figure disappeared into the rain.
***
Hardius arrived at Basilion House late at night.
As the carriage lights pierced the pitch darkness and reached the sign with the family crest, the butler Tobias opened the door as if he had been waiting for it.
He noticed at a glance that the clothes the master was wearing were different from when he had set out. His hair, which was wet and disheveled, was also different than usual.
"Master..."
“I got caught in the rain, somehow.”
Hardius patted the butler on the shoulder as if to tell him not to worry and went straight to the bathroom.
The servants became busy. Pip, the servant, took a bath and prepared the bed while his master changed his clothes.
After a while, Hardius immersed himself in the hot water. His stiff muscles relaxed, and the something that had been surging in his chest also subsided.
He couldn't control his impulse and did something he hadn't planned on doing. He asked her to go to the ball with him...
It was as unexpected as a sudden downpour. He had to immediately change his plans and calculate each variable.
What should he do first?
He should bring forward the breakfast meeting of the King and the Parliamentarians. He should also double-check the list of attendees. He should not forget to contact reporters from newspapers such as Huntington's in advance. The first priority is to form public opinion. Once he does that, the rest will be easy...
Hardius's head, which had been spinning busily, suddenly became blocked.
There were more than a few things he had to prepare for since something went wrong, but his thoughts kept scattering like grains of sand.
A slender wrist that could be held tightly in one hand, and a subtle body scent like a wild flower.
With a terribly innocent face, she shouted for them to take shelter from the rain...
Hardius's eyes were tightly shut.
It was a gesture to shake it off, but instead, the aftertaste spread more thickly along with the hot steam.
“Fuck.”
The arm that was draped over the bathtub strained to cover his eyes.
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