Chapter 27
The roster for the Sapphire Rose Troupe sat before Kishin, but his focus was elsewhere. Lately, his superiors had developed a sudden, irritating obsession with the theater group, and it was becoming a source of constant frustration.
Gossip about a potential mole hiding among the actors had become the favorite pastime of bored aristocrats. Kishin, however, suspected a deeper motive. If there were other agendas at play, it would only complicate his duties further.
His concentration was shattered by a subordinate who was hovering nearby, looking distinctly uncomfortable while balancing a box in each hand. Sensing Kishin’s gaze, the man’s posture relaxed, and he stepped forward with a visible sense of relief.
He admitted that he had been trying to get the Vice-Captain’s attention for some time without success. The guard carefully set the two containers on the corner of the desk.
Kishin’s brow furrowed. He demanded to know the meaning of the delivery.
The subordinate explained that the items were a gift from Classie. He added that while he usually wouldn’t accept such personal deliveries, he felt obligated to make an exception given who she was. He paused, then voiced his assumption that Classie was a woman the Vice-Captain held in high regard.
Kishin’s irritation reached its peak. Had he been able to look any more displeased, the subordinate likely would have fled the room immediately. Kishin took a steadying breath, massaged his temples, and realized that his personal life had been completely misconstrued by his men.
Although Kishin and Dernick had recently settled their own misunderstandings, the rumors among the ranks persisted. The guards were still convinced that Kishin had unsuccessfully tried to woo Classie with flowers on multiple occasions.
Too weary to offer a complex rebuttal, Kishin simply acknowledged the statement. This lack of a denial only served to confirm the subordinate’s suspicions; he left certain that his superior was indeed smitten.
Kishin turned his attention to the nearly identical boxes, wondering why there were two. The guard, looking rather pleased with himself, clarified that one was for Kishin and the other was intended for Dernick.
The mention of his friend caught Kishin off guard. The subordinate explained that Classie had sent both because of their close friendship. She had also sent her apologies, specifying that the box adorned with a silver ribbon belonged to Kishin, while the unadorned one was for his companion.
Kishin found these indirect communications tiresome. He fixed the man with a sharp look, asking if there were any other messages he had failed to mention.
His history with Classie was rocky at best. A brief period of civility had vanished once she began seeing multiple men simultaneously. It made sense for her to send a peace offering to him, but the inclusion of Dernick was baffling.
The subordinate confirmed there were no other verbal messages. When Kishin pressed him on whether any specific instructions were meant for Dernick, the guard shook his head. With a dismissive nod, Kishin sent the man away.
Once alone, he opened the containers. They weren’t secured with any elaborate wrapping, requiring only that the lids be lifted. He still didn’t quite trust the guard’s account; it seemed strange for Classie to send a gift for Dernick through him without a word of explanation.
Inside were the fashionable cakes currently favored by the older nobility. Both appeared identical in style and flavor, yet Kishin noticed a distinction. The plain box—the one supposedly for Dernick—contained a folded note.
He hesitated momentarily. A man of his standing should respect the privacy of a lady’s mail. However, his curiosity proved too powerful to ignore. Yielding to his professional instincts as an investigator, he opened the paper.
The message was an invitation for Dernick to join Classie for a private dinner at her residence on the twentieth of December.
Kishin’s grip tightened, and the letter ripped down the middle before he even realized he was angry. He stared down at the two halves of the invitation, one clutched in each hand.
By the evening of December 19th, Dernick had yet to respond to the invitation.
Classie sat at the dinner table, her mood darkening as she voiced her doubts. She assumed he was too occupied to attend and likely wouldn’t show up the following day.
Dernick’s presence was the linchpin of her plan. She needed him to distract Merran so she could slip away from the property unnoticed. Without him acting as a buffer, her escape would be much more difficult to manage.
She briefly considered using Florence as a conspirator. Perhaps she could prepare for her evening at her friend’s house before heading to the Grand Duke’s estate. However, she quickly dismissed the idea; Florence was a new bride, and such an imposition would be terribly uncouth.
She wondered if she should send a discreet messenger to see if Florence would assist her. As she thought, she noticed Merran wearing a strange smile. A wave of anxiety hit her; she wondered if her niece had seen through the ruse.
Merran spoke with total confidence, insisting that if he weren’t coming, he would have sent a rejection. She took his silence as a guarantee of his arrival. Classie felt a small sense of relief that the girl hadn’t guessed her true intentions, but she couldn’t share her niece’s optimism.
She pointed out that silence didn’t always mean consent, as some people simply ignored invitations they intended to decline. Her mind drifted to Kishin as she spoke.
Merran’s response was sharp, labeling such behavior as inherently rude. When Classie tried to elaborate, the girl’s temper flared. She accused Classie of harboring a grudge against Dernick and warned her to stop insulting his character, or she would become truly angry.
Classie was taken aback, asking what she had said that was so offensive. Merran snapped that she was painting him as a man without manners.
Attempting to smooth things over, Classie forced a gentle expression. She explained that she was only worried Merran would be heartbroken if he failed to appear. She suggested it might be wise to have a backup plan.
Merran wasn’t interested in caution. She dropped her fork with a loud clink and declared that Dernick was simply not the type of man to stand someone up.
Classie decided to drop the subject. If Merran wanted to be stubborn, let her. If the man actually arrived, it would serve Classie’s purposes perfectly. If he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter, as she would be gone by then anyway. She finished her meal in silence to avoid further conflict.
The morning of December 20th arrived.
Classie rose early to begin her elaborate preparations. Merran left her alone, as she was equally preoccupied with her own appearance in anticipation of the guest.
The two met in the dining room for a light breakfast. Both were partially dressed for the day’s events, and Merran looked instantly annoyed. She questioned why Classie was putting so much effort into her look when she had been so certain their guest wouldn’t come. It was clear she thought Classie was trying to compete for his attention.
Classie was confused by the hostility. Usually, Merran paid no mind to her aunt’s wardrobe.
The root of the girl’s anger was a recent discovery regarding their ages. Classie often claimed they were nearly the same age, but in Merran’s mind, five years was a lifetime. Discovering that Dernick sat right in the middle of their ages—three years older than herself and two years younger than Classie—had changed her perspective. She found the idea of Classie acting like a youthful peer to him repulsive.
Merran wanted an aunt who acted the part: a dignified, maternal figure like the guardians her friends had. Classie, unaware of these inner thoughts, simply found the girl’s attitude exhausting. She figured Merran was just taking out her anxiety over the missing RSVP on her.
She coolly remarked that it was better to be prepared for any outcome, as she could simply leave for her own errands if he failed to show.
When the time finally came, Classie departed the estate on her own. From a window, Merran watched her leave.
Their nanny, Karen, approached with a worried expression. She noted how stunning Classie looked and wondered aloud where she could be headed in such finery. She suggested that Merran ought to follow her.
In the past, Merran would have done exactly that, terrified that Classie might secure a husband. But today, she refused to budge. Her priority was waiting for Dernick.
Karen remained fretful, pointing out that Classie was dressed for a formal event and might actually find a suitor. Merran dismissed the concern with a shrug. She noted that any marriage would require a guardian’s approval, and a few well-placed rumors about Classie’s reputation would scuttle any potential engagement.
Suddenly, Merran’s indifference vanished. She stood up quickly as a carriage rolled through the gates. Her face transformed with joy as she announced that Dernick had arrived.
