Translator: Nox

Chapter 18

The coffee in Merran’s cup remained largely untouched as she stirred it with a low, disgruntled murmur. Classie, meanwhile, enjoyed the quiet moment, savoring the crunch of a patterned biscuit while she watched her niece.

“I truly misjudged your character, Auntie.”

“In what way?” Classie asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

“I didn’t realize your heart was so fickle.”

Classie had to suppress a sudden urge to laugh.

In reality, her current display of affection for Dernick was nothing more than a performance designed to get under Merran’s skin. However, she couldn’t deny that she had become someone who moved on quickly from romantic interests. Merran was the primary reason for that transformation. For years, the girl had sabotaged every potential suitor Classie showed interest in. This constant interference had forced Classie to develop a thick skin; she would feel a momentary sting of rejection before bouncing back entirely.

It was ironic to hear such a critique from the very person responsible for her detachment. Had they been peers instead of relatives, Classie might have offered a stinging retort. Instead, she chose a tone of bored indifference.

“Does it truly matter? It’s not as if you harbor feelings for Sir Dernick.”

“I never made such a claim.”

“You stayed silent when I questioned if you liked him,” Classie pointed out. “Silence is usually a lack of interest.”

“Not necessarily. I simply didn’t provide an answer. That isn’t a denial of interest.”

“Fine then. Do you actually like him?”

Merran’s complexion deepened to a vibrant crimson as she searched for words. Classie leaned forward, her curiosity piqued, waiting for the confession.

A sharp rap at the door cut the tension. Both women fell silent instantly.

Dernick stepped back into the room.

“I believe I’ve made it back within the ten-minute mark,” he noted, reclaiming his chair. Despite his earlier promise of a souvenir, his hands were completely empty.

Classie shifted her gaze to the clock. Eleven minutes had elapsed. She wondered where he had vanished to, though she decided against prying. It was possible he had simply needed a moment of privacy. Since he was only a minute late, she decided not to make an issue of it.

However, when she looked back at him, she found him staring directly at her. As their eyes locked, a shy, almost bashful grin spread across his face, and he raised a hand to hide his mouth as if overwhelmed by modesty.

The behavior was jarring. It didn’t fit the man she knew—the one who usually addressed her with a smirk and the nickname ‘Miss Weapons Dealer.’

Feeling a sense of unease, Classie took a slow sip of her coffee. Even as she drained the cup, his persistent, odd smile remained fixed on her.

“Did you encounter something pleasant while you were out?” she asked, setting the china down.

“I happened upon some information that was as baffling as it was entertaining,” Dernick replied.

“And what would that be?” Classie was genuinely confused. He had only been gone for a few minutes; it seemed unlikely he had conducted any real business in that window.

Dernick moved closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are you truly dying to know?”

Classie gave a firm nod.

“Should I reveal it?” He teased, only to pull back with a mischievous glint. “I’d love to share, but frankly, the details are far too embarrassing to speak aloud.”

Classie stared at him, her mouth agape at his absurdity. He gave her a sharp wink before signaling a waiter to bring him a fresh coffee.

The man was an enigma, and not a particularly pleasant one. Classie found herself questioning Merran’s judgment. If it wasn’t his personality, it had to be his physical appearance that drew her niece in, because there was little else to recommend him.

She turned to check on Merran, only to find the girl looking equally strained. Though Merran was smiling, the expression was tight and artificial. Classie recognized the look immediately: Merran was feeling neglected and resentful that the conversation had moved on without her.

As soon as Classie paused her observation, Merran seized the opening.

“Sir Dernick, you mentioned showing me that memento.”

Dernick finally broke his gaze away from Classie and gave Merran his full attention. “Ah, of course! My dear Lady Mary’s daughter, have you reached a conclusion?”

Merran gestured to her empty palms with a playful pout. “You’ve come back with nothing. I thought you were bringing me a gift?”

In response, Dernick reached out and covered her hands with his own.

The blush that swept across Merran’s face was instantaneous. Classie watched the exchange in disbelief, wondering if the man had lost his mind. Merran seemed frozen, neither retreating from his touch nor returning it, her breath hitching in her throat.

Without hesitation, Classie brought the side of her hand down like a blade, chopping through the air between their joined fingers to break the contact.

Released, Merran quickly hid her hands beneath the table. “You’re a charlatan,” she stammered. “Is this your idea of a present? Are you suggesting that you are the gift?”

“Would that be to your liking?” Dernick asked, leaning his head on his folded hands with a shameless, childlike grin.

His audacity was staggering. Yet, to Classie’s surprise, Merran didn’t seem truly offended. She looked down at her cup, a small smile playing on her lips despite her feigned annoyance.

“I’ll have an invitation sent to you later,” Merran eventually said. “You can bring the keepsake to my home then.”

Dernick’s expression brightened instantly. He stood and offered a flourish of a bow, one hand over his heart. “My gratitude, Lady Mary’s daughter. Your kindness mirrors that of your mother.”

Later, as their carriage rattled toward home, Classie broke the silence.

“Are you seriously intending to host Dernick?”

Merran pulled off her gloves, her tone airy and unconcerned. Classie pressed the issue, already planning how she might disrupt such a visit.

“I’ll have him over on a day when you are out,” Merran clarified.

Classie pointed to herself, her eyes wide with feigned shock. “Me? Why am I being excluded?”

“Are you honestly going to act like you don’t know why?” Merran dropped her gloves onto the seat with a sharp thud, her irritation finally boiling over.

Classie fought back a grin, maintaining her mask of innocence. “I truly haven’t a clue. Our sweet Merran is practically a child; surely she needs me there to look after her?”

Merran saw through the act, crossing her arms with a scowl. “Cut it out. Your teasing isn’t helping.”

“Perhaps you’ve finally realized how irritating it is,” Classie countered. “It wasn’t particularly amusing when you were the one doing it to me.”

“That was different! My reasons were entirely separate from yours.”

“Keep arguing,” Classie warned with a sharp smile, “and I’ll make sure I’m by your side every second of the day.”

Merran’s breathing grew heavy as she struggled to keep her temper in check. Classie ignored the girl’s mounting fury, turning to the window and humming a light melody as she watched the city pass by.

Eventually, the silence became too much for Merran.

“Auntie, I think my feelings for Sir Dernick are genuine.”

Classie immediately reached for the carriage blinds, shutting out the world to focus on her niece. “Are you certain? You aren’t just saying this?”

“Why would I fabricate such a thing?”

“You’ve pretended to like every man I’ve ever shown interest in,” Classie reminded her. “I need to know if this is another game or if you truly feel something for him.”

Merran looked away, her expression souring as she contemplated her past behavior. “I really do like him,” she muttered. “My interest started long before I knew you were having dinner with him. It began the moment we met at the guardhouse.”

The carriage slowed to a halt.

“We have arrived, my ladies,” the driver announced.

Merran remained in her seat, seemingly lost in thought. Since she blocked the exit, Classie remained as well.

“Aunt, I’m being honest,” Merran said after a beat. “I have real feelings for him. I’m asking you to stay out of it this time.”

Classie considered the man. Dernick was chaotic, untrustworthy, and bordered on the insane. Yet, she had to admit he possessed a certain dangerous charm. She wanted Merran to find happiness and eventually move on to her own life, but she was terrified of the girl falling for a man who would cause her pain.

“Do you honestly believe he is a decent man?” Classie asked.

Merran gave a noncommittal shrug. “I can’t say for sure. But he’s the most interesting person I’ve encountered. He has a spine. He doesn’t just agree with me to be polite; he says exactly what he thinks. I can’t stand men who are nothing but agreeable—you never know what they’re actually plotting.”

Her expression hardened for a moment before returning to a softer look. Classie studied her niece’s face with genuine concern.

Merran reached out, taking Classie’s hand with a bright, hopeful smile. “If he turns out to be a villain, I’ll walk away. But I need to see him a few times to figure that out. So please, Auntie, don’t interfere with our meetings.”

“You have to promise! I’ll only invite him when you have other plans.”

Classie let out a long, defeated sigh. “Fine. We’ll coordinate. When he comes over, I’ll make sure I’m out with friends. But you must keep Ana in the room with you at all times. Is that a deal?”

Once they were back inside the estate, Merran acted quickly. She dispatched a note to the restaurant where they had met, addressed to Dernick: Please present yourself at the manor on the morning of December 7th, at eleven o’clock.

Simultaneously, Classie prepared her own message for Kishin at the guardhouse.

Since Merran would be occupied with Dernick on the 7th, Classie saw it as the perfect opportunity to secure a meeting with Kishin. It would be a day free of any outside meddling.

She felt confident that Kishin would agree. Their previous encounter had been ruined by Dernick’s presence, and Classie was fairly certain she had sparked some genuine interest in the Vice-Captain during their time together.