Translator: Nox

Chapter 12

The small card tucked into the flowers held a message that caught Classie completely off guard: an admission of fault and a formal apology.

Classie stared at the ink, her brow furrowing in confusion. What had prompted this sudden change of heart?

There was no question that Kishin had been operating under a massive delusion during their previous encounter, but Classie hadn’t been given a single moment to set the record straight. Now, he was coming forward to confess his mistake. She wondered if he truly understood the nature of his error or if he was simply throwing words at the wall.

The note continued, informing her that she was welcome to send the flowers back to the barracks if she chose. As a way to make amends—and to protect her social standing—Kishin promised to publicly declare that he was the one who had been rejected.

The shift in his perspective had a very specific catalyst.

Dernick had finally pieced together the tangled web of confusion involving himself, Kishin, and Merran. Being naturally perceptive, he hadn’t wasted any time in bringing the truth to Kishin’s attention.

Kishin, however, was a man who relied strictly on the evidence of his own senses. This stubborn streak made him hesitate when Dernick first spoke. The version of Classie that Dernick described didn’t match the woman Kishin thought he had figured out.

Prior to their date, his opinion of her had been poisoned by the incident with the returned bouquet. Yet, the woman he had actually spent time with didn’t fit the mold of a spiteful social climber. She had seemed genuine, intelligent, and entirely devoid of the thirst for intrigue he usually expected from her class.

It was in this moment of doubt that Dernick had delivered the final blow to his assumptions. He explained that the flowers hadn’t been sent back as some calculated insult from the merchant’s daughter.

Kishin had sat there, his mind reeling as he processed the revelation. He had just finished tearing into Classie with a self-righteous lecture, and now the world was shifting under his feet.

Dernick had simply shrugged, delivering the news with his usual lack of gravity.

Kishin rubbed his temples, trying to stave off a headache. He asked for clarification, questioning if Classie Kalashi had truly been innocent in the matter from the very beginning.

When Dernick confirmed it, Kishin felt the weight of his own actions. He mentioned that he had already gone to see her, his voice trailing off as the shame set in.

Dernick’s interest was immediately piqued. He leaned in, his eyes shimmering with the hope of a juicy story. He knew Kishin didn’t do one-on-one meetings with women, let alone romantic outings, and he was dying to know what had transpired.

Kishin responded only with a sharp, murderous look.

Dernick tried to play it off as a harmless accident where no one was truly at fault, but Kishin knew better. Both he and Classie had paid a price for this “unfortunate mix-up.” Kishin’s reputation was now tied to a sudden scandal, and Classie had been forced to endure his baseless insults. The blame lay squarely with the meddling Dernick and Miss Merran.

Boiling with silent rage, Kishin kicked his friend out of the room.

However, solitude didn’t bring peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Classie’s wide eyes had trembled when he spoke to her. The guilt gnawed at him for hours.

Eventually, he decided that the only way to balance the scales was to offer her the same opportunity to insult him that he had taken for himself. That decision was what had led to the delivery of the new bouquet.

Back at the house, Classie was still trying to puzzle out how Kishin had discovered the truth when a blur of movement interrupted her. Merran pounced like a predatory animal, snatching the card right out of her hands.

Classie snapped at her to give it back, but Merran was too fast. The message was brief, and she devoured the words in a heartbeat.

Fury instantly clouded Merran’s face. She demanded to know if the man had been disrespectful, her voice rising to a shout as she pressed her aunt for details about his behavior.

Classie tried to shut the conversation down, reaching for the card to hide it in her pocket, but she wasn’t fast enough to stop what happened next.

With a violent motion, Merran tore into the beautiful, expensive arrangement. Classie lunged to save the flowers, but the girl held on tight, and the two of them scuffled over the bouquet. By the time Classie managed to shove her niece away, the silk ribbons were shredded and the blossoms were crushed.

Classie stared at the ruin in her hands, her voice shaking with anger as she asked Merran what on earth had possessed her.

Merran simply wiped her hands, her expression one of cold satisfaction. She claimed it was a fair trade for the way he had treated her aunt.

Classie was speechless. The gift was hers to deal with, yet Merran had decided to play the role of the vengeful protector without being asked. It wasn’t about justice for Classie; it was clearly just Merran blowing off steam.

The girl wasn’t done, either. When Anna appeared to see what the shouting was about, Merran began barking orders at the maid. Anna hesitated, looking toward Classie for a final decision.

Classie shook her head, her face set in a hard line, and told Anna to ignore the command.

Merran turned on her, her face red with indignation. She pointed out that the man had admitted to being a jerk and had apologized for it. She couldn’t understand why Classie would even consider showing him mercy.

Merran’s anger was real, fueled by the protective instinct she felt for her guardian. But beneath the surface, there was a layer of secret shame. She knew exactly why Kishin had been so cruel to Classie—it was because of the way she herself had publicly rejected his first bouquet. She wanted Classie to be just as heartless in return, hoping that a display of cruelty would wash away her own culpability in the mess.

Classie, oblivious to her niece’s inner turmoil, only saw a girl acting out in a way that threatened to ruin them both. She told Merran that an apology isn’t a green light to become a bully.

To Classie, Merran’s behavior was a liability. If she were an established member of the elite, she might get away with such a dramatic gesture. But she was a newcomer in a city where she had no allies. Every move she made was being watched and judged.

Merran folded her arms and sneered, arguing that being too soft would only invite more disrespect from the local nobility.

Classie’s quiet retort as she gathered the broken stems made Merran flush an even deeper shade of crimson. Anna had to press a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud, noting that with the way the two ladies practiced their wits on each other at home, they would be invincible in any social battle.

Classie retreated to her bedroom, clutching the ruined flowers to her chest. It was a tactical withdrawal. Once she heard Merran’s heavy, angry footsteps fade down the hall, she moved with practiced speed.

She threw on her heavy winter coat, waited for the click of a distant door, and then slipped out of the house. She hailed a carriage, the mangled bouquet still cradled in her arms.

She gave the driver her destination: the guard station.

The coachman looked at her with genuine concern, noting the late hour and the fact that the streets were growing dark and empty. While their neighborhood on Hod Street was well-lit, the path toward Balowal Road was far less inviting.

Classie didn’t care. She knew the guards worked through the night, and given the timing of the delivery, Kishin was likely still on duty.

She told the driver to wait for her once they arrived, unsure of how long the confrontation would take. She marched into the station, ignoring the startled look of the sentry who clearly thought a noblewoman carrying a heap of dead flowers was a sign of madness.

She maintained a cold, professional dignity as she requested an audience with Lord Kishin. When the guard looked ready to dismiss her, she dropped her name and showed him the signature on the card.

The guard’s attitude shifted instantly. He disappeared into the back and returned shortly, looking baffled. He told her she was expected and assigned an officer to lead her through the building.

Behind her, she could hear the guards whispering. They were shocked that Kishin was seeing a woman at all, speculating that his standards must simply be incredibly high.

Classie ignored them all, her heart racing as she approached Kishin’s door.