Previously
Over a warm midnight meal, Noah watches over Cordelia and confirms their outing for the following day. The next morning, Jan energetically prepares Cordelia in fine attire while regaling her with stories about the profound love shared by Noah's late parents.
“I met them once when I was young, and even at a glance, you could tell the way they looked at each other was extraordinary. Especially the master! Ah, if only I could be loved like that just once, I’d have nothing left to wish for.”
With a longing sigh, Jan draped a string of pearls around Cordelia’s slender neck.
Love… Everyone yearned for love like that, it seemed. Seeing the envy etched across Jan’s face made Cordelia realize it anew. In truth, that was what love was to the world: something tender and radiant. Far from the sheer terror the word stirred in Cordelia.
Perhaps that was the true curse her mother had left behind.
“There, all finished.” Still absorbed in the tales of Noah’s family, Cordelia caught her own gaze in the mirror and parted her lips in disbelief.
Jan smiled in triumph at the sight.
“Isn’t it lovely? You are already beautiful, Miss, but a change of pace like this is always wonderful.”
Nodding in a daze, Cordelia thought of something else entirely. ‘Mother… I look just like Mother.’
It felt as if her mother, from the days when she had been radiant and healthy, were looking back at her. The thought left her heart aching, yet warmly filled. Gazing intently at the glass as she traced every hint of her mother in her own face, Cordelia murmured with heartfelt sincerity.
“Thank you, Jan.”
Jan’s round face bloomed into a broad grin. Smiling back, Cordelia found herself thinking that perhaps something exceptionally wonderful awaited her today.
***
Stepping carefully so as not to tread on the exquisite gown, Cordelia reached the top of the stairs and caught sight of Noah Tudor’s profile. He was seated with his legs crossed on the parlor sofa, listening to a report from his secretary.
Even from a distance, he looked as striking as ever. Hair pushed back naturally, sharp and chiseled features, fingertips tracing lines as graceful as a noble bird’s wing, and eyes lowered in mild boredom while his polished shoe tilted absently—everything about him was effortless and poised.
Was such ease innate? Or was it the fruit of an environment brimming with boundless affection and wealth?
Whatever the reason….
His eyes shifted idly, locking onto hers. As if pierced straight through, Cordelia found her feet moving of their own accord toward him. The man did not stir, tracking her approach with his eyes alone. A silent, relentless gaze.
Like a helpless rodent pinned beneath a raptor’s glare, every hair on her body stood on end. She felt as strangely breathless and jittery as a nervous debutante stepping down a ballroom staircase, so much so that her feet nearly tangled.
Startled, she glanced down at her hem before quickly looking up to gauge his reaction, but Noah had already returned his attention to his secretary’s briefing and the folder thrust before him. A sudden sense of deflation swept through her, and her cheeks flushed hot.
Unsure of why she felt so despondent, she dejectedly watched the tips of her shoes as she made her way down the remaining steps. Then the polished toe of a chestnut-brown shoe entered her field of vision, and her head jerked up. Noah was already standing before her, holding out a hand.
Cordelia parted her lips blankly, looking between his hand and his impassive face. Unaccustomed as she was to high society, she was not ignorant enough to miss that this was standard etiquette—an escort’s hand. It might seem foolish, but her pulse fluttered all the same. Awkwardly, she reached out to rest her hand on that flawless palm, but his hand suddenly moved past hers, bypassing it entirely.
It was only for an instant, yet the mortification cut deep enough to make her fingertips tremble.
At least, until his hands caught her waist and lifted her clear off the ground like a child, setting her gently down upon the floor. Dazed, she looked up into his handsome face, his brow subtly knit.
“Scavenging for food yesterday, taking baby steps today.”
“Will you have grown a bit in a year’s time, I wonder?”
His offhand teasing made her face burn with a very different kind of heat. She ducked her head, and sliding his hands into his pockets as he looked down at the crown of her crimson head, Noah offered a lopsided smile.
“You look lovely.”
“Pardon?”
Only after asking did she realize her misstep. Pressing her lips together, she mumbled, “Thank… thank you….”
He merely replied in a quiet, measured tone.
“Old habits die hard, don’t they?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Mm-hmm, so you admit you were wrong?”
He had not particularly meant to demand an apology, but the way her large eyes darted about, anxiously reading his mood, struck him as curiously endearing. He chose to leave it at that.
This time, Noah offered his hand in proper escort, and Cordelia, less flustered than before, placed hers atop it. Despite her aunt’s ceaseless insults, she had always believed she harbored no pride to speak of, yet she had no desire to humiliate herself with unsophisticated blunders. Especially not in front of this man.
That resolve, however, evaporated the moment her eyes widened at the profoundly unfamiliar vehicle before them.
Opening the door for her, Noah gave a soft chuckle.
“First time seeing an automobile?”
“Pardon? No, I’ve seen one before.”
She had blurted out the denial without thinking, but he simply gave an indifferent nod. Did he not believe her? Or was he simply uninterested? Cordelia quickly fell silent, biting her tongue in sheepish dismay.
In Kuran, the capital city of the colony Jeneca, villas belonging to wealthy nobles and the bourgeoisie lined the streets, and she had heard that modern automobiles and lavish carriages were often seen traversing the avenues. The upper class remained far more accustomed to carriages, so motorcars were not yet widespread, but wealthy men with an eye for novelty were known to collect them.
Indeed, even at first glance, this machine looked remarkably classic yet modern all at once. The wine-red body was trimmed in gold, riding atop four sleek black wheels, while the seats were made of the finest leather—doubtless hand-stitched by an artisan. The tall steering wheel wrapped in gold and matching red leather, along with the pulled-back black convertible roof, made every detail appear utterly novel and magnificent.
And above all, it suited the man holding out his hand for her to step inside almost excessively well.
“It’s a 1987 Louise Theroid. Brought it over from my cousin’s estate on my birthday. He’s got about twenty of these parked across his lands.”
“Your cousin must care for you very deeply, Lord Tudor. I’ve never seen such a splendid birthday gift.”
She had no idea of its true worth, but it was bound to be extraordinarily expensive, yet he had yielded a piece of his personal collection to his younger cousin. If it had been Dorea, she would have slapped Cordelia across the face the instant she dared ask for something prized. This man truly was loved. Come to think of it, though he had traded sharp words with his cousin yesterday, their bond had seemed genuinely fond.
Cordelia felt privately pleased with herself for delivering such an impeccable response, but Noah started the engine, turned the wheel, and replied.
“A gift? No, I just took it.”
“Excuse me?”
“He wasn’t offering, so I picked one out and brought it home myself. Figured he might not know my taste.”
Wait… that could hardly be right.
Glancing sideways at her stunned expression, Noah let out a wicked, low chuckle.
“Miss Cordelia. Sometimes it’s faster to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
It was the logic of a scoundrel, the likes of which she had never heard in all her life.
“Um… so did he forgive you?”
“What’s he going to do if he doesn’t?”
“…”
Just what was wrong with this man to make him turn out this way? She felt genuine pity for his cousin, who had surely clutched the back of his neck in agony.
Before she could even figure out how to respond to such an unprecedented, arrogant worldview, Noah reached out with one hand to nudge her slack jaw shut, then cupped her head and turned her forward. The warmth of his large palm brushing the nape of her neck sent a sharp tingle running straight down her spine.
“Keep your eyes forward. You said you wanted fresh air.”
And the instant Cordelia looked ahead, a soft gasp escaped her.
The port city of Narat was a city of hills, and from this elevated perch, the exotic scent and sight of the ocean town unfolded in a single sweeping vista.
A bustling square alive with citizens greeting the morning, trees bearing the broad leaves characteristic of the south, clusters of red-brick and sand-hued houses, and embracing it all was the deep blue sea, shimmering beneath the sun. Ships were setting sail, their deep horns echoing like the low call of a whale.
She felt as if rolling down this gentle slope would plunge them straight into the vibrant, living scenery. Her heart fluttered with pleasant excitement. Swallowing hard, Cordelia instinctively turned back toward the driver’s seat, her flushed face alight with a desire to share this wonder.
“It’s so… so breathtaking.”
Even down to the mysterious sea breeze mingled with foreign spices.
Whether he found her red face amusing, Noah slipped on a pair of pale amethyst-tinted sunglasses with a smirk. The hand resting on the wheel reached out, pressed down on her fluttering bonnet before it could blow away, and withdrew. As the automobile surged forward, the cool, salty wind artfully ruffled his platinum-blond hair.
Cordelia burst into a spontaneous, bright laugh. Even with a terrifying creditor seated beside her, it had been so long since she had tasted such pure, exhilarating delight that she could not hold her laughter back.
And the man who took such pleasure in teasing her let her be, for once.
Only now and then, through the amethyst lenses, did he cast a passing, casual glance at the laughing face of the woman so thoroughly absorbed in taking in the view.