~Tpmma 07~

Chapter 7

“Really, I don’t know them! I just heard their names today and I’ve never even seen their faces!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Wow, that expression doesn’t even register. So unfair, right? I’d bet my life even if I had a lie detector.

And you two have some explaining to do too!

Under their ‘Yeah, yeah, let’s see how far you’ll stretch the lies’ glares, I felt my temper flare and tried to strike back.

“Well, you two also haven’t explained why you’re here.”

Both of them flinched at the same time.

Guess they didn’t expect the arrow to bounce back.

“First, if you don’t like me gaining weight, you’d be the type to steal my dinner. But why bother interfering with dessert and even follow me to an outdoor event? You don’t even like the blazing sun.”

“…I’m starting to get a tan. I’ll head in now. Enjoy yourselves.”

Natalie retreated.

Next was Tristan.

He seemed to realize he’d been pricked and spoke first.

“Hmm, what are you suspecting? I’m a man who loves banquets, after all.”

“I’ll clarify that statement a bit. As my sister mentioned earlier, Your Highness only loves banquets because there are ladies there. But why come to a place with no official dance time?”

“……Dorie Redfield. I hadn’t noticed before, but you resemble your sister in some ways.”

“We haven’t had many long conversations, Your Highness. It’s natural you didn’t know me.”

A hasty excuse, but also a reasonable one.

Tristan couldn’t deny it.

Next came my questioning.

“Your Highness, what brings you here? Since you entered midway, it looks like you stopped by our house. Was there something urgent?”

“That is…….”

Last time, he said, ‘I have no reason to dance with you.’

What kind of nonsense is he planning to say today?

Yet Tristan’s hellish mouth showed no sign of opening. Why?

“Your Highness, I can hear whatever you have to say. My feelings for you won’t change, so please don’t worry and speak freely—”

“……It’s possible.”

“Excuse me?”

“Really, perhaps, maybe, though the chances are slim! There might come a moment when I ask you to dance. When that happens, you needn’t refuse. That’s what I came to say.”

Not quite a terrible remark, but what should I call it? A recycled garbage comment?

I was too flabbergasted to react, and he continued spewing his nonsense.

“My matter is concluded. Don’t concern yourself with me any longer. Just as I won’t with you!”

Before I could ask more, Tristan spun around and hastened his steps. In the spring-lit greenhouse, the silver-haired man stretching his long legs was impossible to ignore.

Why did he even come?

‘Did he get scolded by his mom for flirting with another woman while engaged?’

That seems the most likely.

He’s infuriatingly pretentious. His looks can’t even cover his personality.

Even now, I wanted to run up and shout, ‘Cancel the engagement! So neither of us has to worry about each other!’ but—

‘No.’

A man like him is a good one.

I tried to calm myself by recalling my ex-boyfriend in reality.

My first and only boyfriend had been a regular at the library, job-hunting.

Our first meeting was when he mediated a fight between me and some locals clipping newspapers for study purposes. He looked amazing then. But after we dated, he changed gradually.

‘He wanted the library open on closed days so he could study alone, brought his own lunch to save money, and expected me to pack mine too. Ridiculous stuff.’

When I asked, ready to break up, “Why do I have to support you too?” he replied:

‘Do you look down on me because I’m job-hunting? You, a mere library temp worker. You’ll never meet a man better than me!’

I don’t know what became of him.

As he said, I ended up shuttling between libraries for 11 months.

But his words still echo in my mind.

‘You, of all people.’

No matter how hard I’ve worked, I was judged only for my temporary contract and meager pay.

‘A third lady with nothing to boast about in this world.’

Tristan is more than I deserve. He even redeems himself later.

‘I should ask to punch him in the stomach once.’

Taking a deep breath, the host’s voice called out.

“Honored guests, please gather in the central garden! Will you enjoy the music we’ve prepared?”

To lift my spirits, I walked over.

Now begins the history of the male and female leads!

The circus troupe sprinkled flowers to set the mood. Meanwhile, the party host introduced the guests, most of whom had just arrived in the capital, to each other.

Of course, the person drawing the most attention was the original male lead standing beside the host.

People whispered.

“Viscount Frost Hill is even more handsome than I imagined. All the noblewomen will run barefoot to him.”

“Better if the ladies run. Look, there’s even a brazen lady who directly speaks to him.”

“Seize the opportunity when you can. After today, we won’t know where to see him again. Surely, he’ll only attend high-nobility events!”

Someone added mockingly:

“How will the calmest beauty in society respond? Shall we bet?”

Everyone’s gaze shifted to the corner of the central garden, where Maria quietly sipped her juice. One by one, they joined the bet.

“How could anyone miss this chance? She’ll surely approach him.”

“Will she rashly take off her composed mask? I bet she pretends by accident to bump into him and start a conversation.”

“I think the Viscount will speak first. A beauty like that in front of a soldier who’s lived his whole life in the north? He’ll be stunned.”

At every sentence, giggles broke out. So rude.

Amid this irritating gossip, I spoke the truth.

“Neither of them will say a word to each other.”

“Ha ha ha! Not speak? Impossible. Early in the season, you must get acquainted—”

Someone objected, turning their head. When our eyes met, they smiled and chuckled.

“Oh, Miss Redfield, it’s you.”

“Was I not supposed to come?”

“Not at all! But your response seemed the purest from the Redfield family.”

Someone nearby snickered.

“If it’s Dorie, that makes sense. She had an arranged fiancé even before debutante training—she never had to learn desperation.”

“Haha! True. But it would be wise to learn courtship now, Lady. You never know when you might need it.”

Perhaps the light alcohol served at the spring event excited them, making them speak so boldly.

But the commotion didn’t last long.

“Look, the two are about to meet!”

Everyone’s eyes focused on one point.

Arthur, just released by a noblewoman, and Maria, freed from the previous man, were on a collision course.

Everyone held their breath.

They certainly recognized each other. Their feet faltering as their paths nearly crossed confirmed it.

I knew it. Maria and Arthur immediately recognized one another: friends and first loves, warming each other’s hands eight years ago in the north.

They were about to—

“……Huh? What’s going on?”

“Not even introducing themselves? Wait, are they really passing by?”

“How can they ignore that face! Could they know each other?”

“If they knew, the lady would have greeted him. Knowing he’s from a ducal family, she wouldn’t ignore him!”

They ignored him deliberately, you fools.

When their prediction failed, they grew even ruder—blaming others.

“Miss Maria has no manners! She should have at least greeted a northern duke.”

“She’s not a duke yet, it should be viscount.”

“Still, she entered the social scene a day earlier. She should have asked the host to introduce herself—”

“Ah, ah, noted.”

I stopped the futile debate.

“No matter how much you discuss, you won’t reach a conclusion unless you ask the people involved. And there’s something more important, right?”

“Yes?”

“I won the bet.”

“Ah……”

People gasped one by one.

“Miss Redfield, how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter. First, as the reward for winning the bet, I want an apology for the earlier rudeness.”

“Rudeness?”

“Comments like calling me naive, saying I should learn courtship before it’s too late.”

“I absolutely had no intention of being rude!”

“Why are people who split others’ actions into bets so lenient toward themselves? Unfortunately, I’m not as naive as you’d like, but luckily, a single apology will suffice.”

Their eyes widened.

Not because they were touched by my generosity.

They were flustered by the change in the always-composed Lady Dorie Redfield.

The northern version of me is gone.

Well, I dislike fighting, so I’m not sure how to argue properly.

But I have a borrowed name.

“Can’t you apologize properly? Then, as I learned from my respected sister, Natalie Redfield—”

“Sorry!”

I said it off the cuff, but it worked well.

The man who mocked me the most clutched his hat and apologized.

One by one, others bowed and apologized. Or slipped away quietly.

I took note of your backs.