Chapter 31
“She certainly took the time to dress up before leaving. Now I see why.”
“Goodness. Where on earth did she find such a striking man? Who could he be?”
Karen’s voice held a note of genuine wonder that she couldn’t quite mask.
Merran spoke in a hushed, sharp tone.
“That is Sir Kishin.”
“Kishin? You mean the palace guard?”
“The very same.”
Standing by the window, Merran watched Classie and Kishin through the glass. The pair stood by the carriage, engaged in a conversation that looked both serious and careful.
Merran’s fingers tightened on the heavy drapes as she bit her lip. A wave of indignation washed over her; the situation was simply infuriating.
She felt a surge of resentment, having spent the entire afternoon fretting over her aunt’s return, only to find that Classie had been out enjoying herself with a handsome companion. The realization of her aunt’s cleverness began to dawn on her.
“Sir Dernick was nothing but a distraction!”
“I see it now,” Merran hissed. “Aunt invited him here specifically to keep me tied down while she went off on her date. She wanted to make sure I couldn’t follow her.”
Karen looked at the coffee service she had prepared and decided it was best to simply clear it away.
Merran paced the length of the sofa in a fury before hurling a cushion to the floor.
She felt like a complete idiot for worrying about Classie being late. It seemed her aunt had lost her senses over a man, going so far as to use such a transparent and petty trick to ditch her own niece.
With a heavy, frustrated exhale, Merran finally reached her breaking point. She threw the door open and marched into the corridor.
Karen hurried to keep up with her.
Classie, meanwhile, was blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the hallway. She entered the house feeling lighter than she had in a long time.
The tension between her and Kishin had dissolved as they laughed off their old misunderstandings.
Even with the air cleared, Kishin remained his usual reserved self. He wasn’t like Dernick, who could fill a room with constant chatter. Kishin was a listener; he gave Classie his full attention and responded in a voice that was both low and soothing.
Her perspective on him had shifted entirely. Where she had once written him off, she now saw a glimmer of potential.
While her primary motivation for seeking a husband was the inheritance laws, she reflected that if she had to marry, it might as well be to someone who actually sparked her interest.
She draped her coat over her arm and began a light, almost rhythmic walk up the stairs. Her progress was abruptly halted, however, when Merran stepped into her path.
One look at the girl’s thunderous expression told Classie everything: Dernick had never arrived.
It made sense, of course. He had been called away by his father earlier that day looking quite troubled. There was no way he would have made it to the house.
Classie wondered for a moment if she should offer some sympathy, given how upset her niece appeared.
But Merran didn’t give her the chance. She struck first.
“You’re quite the strategist, Aunt. Once you realized I liked him, you used that against me. You trapped me here waiting for a man who wasn’t coming while you went out to enjoy yourself.”
Classie realized immediately that the girl had seen her with Kishin. It appeared Merran had already pieced the whole puzzle together.
“Did you even bother to invite Sir Dernick at all?” Merran demanded.
Despite the confrontation, Classie was in too good a mood to pick a fight. She decided to pivot the conversation instead.
“You mentioned before that you didn’t know which family Sir Dernick belonged to, right?”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” Merran snapped.
“I happened to find out his lineage today.”
Merran paused, her curiosity piqued despite herself. “…And?”
Classie gave the girl’s arm a playful pat and stepped around her.
“Since you don’t like me changing the subject, I suppose I’ll keep it to myself.”
The bait worked. Merran’s anger flared anew as she realized she was being teased, and she chased after her aunt.
Ignoring the protest, Classie walked into her suite and tossed her coat onto a chair.
Anna, coming in to welcome her mistress home, jumped at the sound of Merran’s raised voice.
“Goodness, Lady Merran! You spent all day waiting for Lady Classie, and now you’re arguing the moment she steps through the door?”
“She’s being cruel to me!” Merran cried.
Classie let out a short laugh.
“Cruel? You weren’t waiting for me; you were waiting for your guest. Don’t take your disappointment out on me just because he stood you up.”
Merran’s response was another indignant shout.
As Classie began to undress, humming a cheerful tune, Anna shot her a look as if she were dealing with a headstrong child. Classie caught the expression and sighed, stopping her song.
She realized she would have to explain herself eventually.
“Honestly, Anna, you always take her side. Fine, I’ll tell you both, but prepare yourselves for a shock.”
Anna blinked, looking confused. “A shock? About what?”
Merran, unable to help herself, fell silent. She pressed her lips together and waited with bated breath.
Classie leaned in as if sharing a state secret.
“Try to stay calm. Sir Dernick is the sole heir of Grand Duke Siwil.”
The revelation left Merran speechless, her mouth hanging open.
Anna was impressed by the title, though it took her a moment to place the name. Unlike the younger girl, she hadn’t been obsessing over the man.
Merran, however, was suddenly full of energy. She grabbed Classie’s arm and gave it a frantic shake.
“Is that the truth? Did he tell you himself?”
She looked almost adorable in her excitement, though her eyes narrowed again a second later.
“Wait. Aunt, did you see Sir Dernick today?”
Classie decided to blend a bit of reality with a narrative that served her purposes.
“It was a bit of a mess, really. He happened to be at the same place I visited. I was just as shocked as you. I asked him why he wasn’t at our house since I’d sent the invitation, and he told me flat out that he’d ignored it on purpose.”
The anger drained out of Merran, replaced by a wounded look.
“He said that? That’s incredibly rude.”
“Exactly,” Classie agreed. “He has a terrible temperament by his own admission. So you see, it wasn’t my fault we crossed paths. I had no idea he was planning to reject the invite.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Merran murmured.
Anna finally connected the dots and joined the conversation with newfound enthusiasm.
“Oh, my ladies! Are we speaking of the silver-haired gentleman? The one who looks like a porcelain doll? He’s the Grand Duke’s son? The one the Emperor treats better than his own blood? People used to whisper that he was the Emperor’s secret child because of that favoritism!”
“Anna, don’t spread such tall tales,” Classie warned.
“Oh, I know it’s just gossip. The Emperor and the Grand Duchess are barely on speaking terms, so it couldn’t possibly be true.”
Classie was about to tell her to drop the subject entirely when she noticed Merran had gone uncharacteristically quiet.
When they made eye contact, Merran asked the question she’d been holding back.
“Aunt, where exactly were you that you managed to run into both Sir Kishin and Sir Dernick at the same time?”
The girl was sharp, Classie noted. It was a shame she usually used that intellect to make Classie’s life difficult.
Classie’s own path was limited. Her noble birth prevented her from common labor, yet her lack of a title kept her from high-ranking official roles. Her health issues ruled out the military, and her distance from the capital made palace service impossible. The inheritance was her only lifeline.
She looked at Merran, who would one day be a Marchioness and had every door open to her. She couldn’t understand why the girl was so intent on being an obstacle.
“Aunt? I’m waiting. Where were you?”
Classie weighed her options. She could lie, or she could use the truth as leverage.
First, she decided to clear the room.
“Anna, I’m quite famished. Could you see to a meal for me?”
Anna clearly wanted to stay and hear the rest, but she couldn’t ignore a direct request. She shuffled out of the room with obvious reluctance.
Once the door clicked shut, Classie turned to her niece with a gravity that demanded attention.
“Merran. You have feelings for Sir Dernick, don’t you?”
Merran crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Stop trying to dodge the question.”
“I’m not. Just listen. He is the son of a Grand Duke, but as the future head of the Kalashi family, you are a suitable match. There is stiff competition in the capital, but you have a real chance. You understand that, right?”
“You’re trying to flatter me so I’ll drop this,” Merran said. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Aunt.”
“I’m being serious. You have a chance, but you aren’t the only option he has.”
Merran started to bristle at the critique, but Classie reached out and gently covered the girl’s mouth before she could retort.
“Here is the reality, Merran. If you want a future with Sir Dernick—if you want to be the Grand Duchess—you need to stop interfering with my affairs.”
Merran pushed her hand away, looking annoyed. “What does one have to do with the other? That makes no sense!”
“It makes perfect sense,” Classie countered, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Kishin and Dernick are inseparable friends. How do you think Dernick will react if he finds out you’ve been making life difficult for Kishin?”
The color drained from Merran’s face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.
Sensing she had the upper hand, Classie pressed on.
“If he were some minor lord, your reputation wouldn’t matter as much. But he is a Grand Duke’s heir. If you want to win his heart, you have to start acting like a woman of status and grace.”
Merran pouted, glaring at her aunt with a mix of realization and resentment.
“You’re just dressing it up in fancy words,” Merran muttered. “What you’re actually saying is that if I try to stop you from seeing Sir Kishin, you’ll make sure Sir Kishin ruins my chances with Sir Dernick.”
