Chapter 88.1

Lia curtsied to Mrs. Ihar, who recognized her and reached out to steady her. Lia’s bent leg was trembling with nerves. Claude noticed and made a move to help, but Mrs. Ihar was quicker.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Canillia,” Jasmine said in a calm, cool voice that reminded Lia of Rosina.

Standing straight, Lia looked at Jasmine with curiosity. She noticed her tall stature and features that shone even without any accessories. When their eyes met, Jasmine’s blue eyes, identical to Claude’s, curved pleasantly. Lia was startled and lowered her head, causing a small laugh to be heard.

“Your lady is a cute one,” Jasmine said.

“She’s injured, mother,” Claude said. “She needs rest. I’ll show her to her room first.”

“That’s fine,” Mrs. Ihar replied. “From the looks of you both, it must have been quite an incident. We’ll hear all about it over dinner.”

Despite the years they had been apart, the reunion between mother and son was fairly dry and formal.

Lia smiled at Pepe, who was feeling nervous as well. It was funny how they had both stiffened up and didn’t know what to do.

“I guess nervousness is contagious,” Lia said.

“My lady, I’ve never seen anything like it,” Pepe replied. “The townhouse in the capital seems bleak in comparison.”

Lia moved on, looking around the unfamiliar yet luxurious house of the grand duke. Whenever she stumbled, Pepe reached out to help her, but she always refused her assistance. Claude also tried to offer his help, but she refused him as well. He frowned whenever she declined, but Lia paid no attention to it and eagerly climbed the stairs, holding onto the handrail.

Along the walls of the spiral staircase were portraits of the Ihar family. Among them were portraits of Claude and Duke Maximilian, who had passed away a few years earlier.

Lia stopped in front of a delicately drawn portrait of Duke Maximilian. His appearance in the picture resembled the day they first met. It was the face she had seen that night, buried in the cold snow.

“I have to have my portrait drawn again soon. It’s a nuisance,” Claude said, standing one step above her.

Lia tilted her head and moved closer to the painting. “I remember this face. You said you’d teach me how to shoot.” The man who she had been so afraid of back then now felt like a part of her.

Lost in her memories, Lia didn’t notice Claude staring at her. He leaned over and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Lia let out a small shriek of surprise. Holding her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, he strode up the stairs and across the wide hallway.

“Thank God I didn’t do anything of the sort. Just imagining you with a gun is horrible,” Claude said.

“Please let me down. There are too many people here!” Lia said, feeling embarrassed.

“I own this place, Lia. No one can point their finger at me, or you. If they had two lives, maybe,” Claude replied with a smirk.

“Still…” Lia protested.

“I miss the bed, Canillia,” Claude said, ignoring her protests.

He seemed happy to be back home. It was the first time Lia had seen him so excited, like a child.

Unable to make eye contact with the maids who stood in a neat line, Lia covered her face with both hands.

Two servants opened the door to a room and Lia was startled by the bright sunlight as she was buried in the softness of a bed.

“Kyaa!” Claude exclaimed as he hugged Lia tightly and jumped onto the bed. He didn’t let go until Pepe and the maids left her luggage in the room.

Lia struggled to get out of his grasp, but eventually gave up. Only then did the corner of Claude’s mouth lift into a smile as he closed his eyes.

Lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, Lia couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Do you think I did something wrong?” Lia asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Claude replied.

“I don’t want to make a mistake,” Lia said.

Claude raised himself up and trapped Lia between his arms, lowering his weight onto her. He pressed against her body as he brushed her cheeks, which looked soft in the sunlight.

It was a strange feeling, as if they had a long, deep conversation without saying a single word.

Claude leaned in and kissed her. His tongue made its way deep into her mouth, entwining with hers.

He barely pulled back, grabbing her chin and murmured, “Let’s get married. Before it’s too late, as soon as possible.”

***

It was said that the sun set early in the north, which was probably why dinner was served a little earlier than when Lia was in the capital.

When Claude returned to his room, Pepe and a maid came to help Lia get dressed for dinner. While selecting clothes and jewelry suitable for the occasion, Lia kept thinking about Mrs. Ihar.

Lia refused all the accessories Pepe suggested and decided on a pair of small earrings and the ring Claude had given her. In hindsight, she was glad she had made those choices.

Leah, who was sitting opposite Claude and waiting for Mrs. Ihar, stood up in the presence of the chamberlain.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Excuse me, Miss Canillia,” Mrs. Ihar said as she entered the room, wearing the same black dress Lia had seen when they first met. Lia noticed that Mrs. Ihar had dirt on the ends of her sleeves as she dipped her hand in the basin brought by the servant.

Lia couldn’t smell the thick scent of perfume on Mrs. Ihar.

“Owen told me you frequent the town,” Claude said.

“Did he?” Jasmine replied. “But it can’t be helped. I’ve been managing the estate ever since Father was out in neutral territory. The war happened and it ruined everything. You can’t imagine the state of it. There are still a lot of people who haven’t been properly compensated.”

“Still, it’s dangerous to directly manage the construction site. There are staff in charge of those things,” Claude added.

“You’re just like your father. Don’t underestimate us ladies. I have no intention of being cooped up in a greenhouse while a man brings me a cup of tea,” Mrs. Ihar said with conviction.

Claude sighed heavily at his mother’s determination, but Lia was captivated by Mrs. Ihar. She stared at her half-dazed, with sparkling eyes.

Mrs. Ihar didn’t show off like a man, didn’t eat carelessly, or speak in a harsh tone. Her elegance naturally followed a dignified tone, and she used words Lia had never heard before.