Episode 22. Gray and His Friends' Luncheon
The structure of Somi Palace was simple.
The central building of Somi Palace was mostly space for the Valoneck Duke, the east wing for the now-deceased duchess and the sub-duke's family, and the west wing mainly for other Valoneck household members and guests.
On a day when Somi Palace's central garden was turning red and yellow with autumn leaves, preparations for a lunch banquet for Gray were in full swing on the first floor of the west wing.
That dining room was right next to the west garden, decorated with shrubs a little taller than a person's height.
Originally, after the lady of the house passed away, they had hardly received any guests, but starting about two years ago, Gray began holding regular meals there with his aides, bringing the place back to life.
Gathering at lunchtime instead of dinner—for Adel's sake, who clocked out exactly on time—also played a part.
The fresh scent of the shrubs mingled with the clinking of silverware in the sunlight, light conversation, cheerful laughter, and the aroma of delicious food, infusing the space with the vibrancy of life.
Today's luncheon was already buzzing with energy from Doran, who made his usual flashy entrance.
"Whoa. Adel, you're early?"
Doran pulled out the chair opposite Adel and plopped down. Muttering 'Wow, I'm really busy these days,' he downed the pre-set aperitif from the table in one gulp—even before the host, Gray, arrived.
Adel unconsciously frowned slightly.
She'd heard Doran was the son of a fairly high-ranking family in Hallock, but at times like this, his manners felt even more unpolished than her own.
According to Gray, he was such an eccentric that no one would play with him—was it true?
Come to think of it, they suited each other perfectly. A playboy and an eccentric.
Did fate recognize its own?
As Adel quietly observed Doran, he set down his empty glass and stared right at her. Then he grinned.
"Adel. Did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
"That the Charlotte Grand Duchess is coming?"
Adel's hand, fiddling with her water glass, paused for a moment. She subtly moistened her dry mouth without Doran noticing.
"Yes. I heard."
"Wow. But how have you not asked even once, Adel? Like, what kind of woman the Grand Duchess is, or if Gray's really going to marry her or not—something like that."
As always, Adel replied in her indifferent tone.
"Whether he marries or not, it's Young Master Gray's business. What does it have to do with me?"
Doran's dark-skinned face, with its distinct features giving off a strong exotic vibe, split into a wide grin, his particularly red lips baring the space beyond both molars.
"As expected of Adel. The whole household is on edge, dying to know what the new lady of the house will be like, but you're totally unfazed. Yeah, no wonder Gray feels neglected."
Adel couldn't make sense of Doran's words.
Gray had never mentioned Charlotte or marriage to her—not even as individual words, let alone together. So what was there for him to feel neglected about?
Doran now tossed thin potato chips from the center of the table into his mouth one by one.
"Really no interest at all, Adel?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Doran."
"Why no interest?! If Gray gets married, we'll be free during his honeymoon! We can escape this stuffy mansion and play to our hearts' content! Doesn't just imagining it get you excited? So why no interest?!"
"……."
Adel pondered it carefully. But it wasn't worth dwelling on.
Even without Gray, his aides still had work to do. So whether he married or not, Adel would keep working diligently.
"Doran. I don't know for sure, but if Young Master Gray really does marry, won't you probably end up stuck tagging along on his honeymoon?"
Doran's green eyes flashed wide open.
"No way, what kind of nonsense is that! Why would I get dragged on his honeymoon?!"
"Young Master Gray said so."
Shock layered over his startled eyes.
"What? What did Gray say?!"
"That Doran is the soulmate of his soul, so he has to enjoy trips together too. He said it thrills him just thinking about it."
Of course, Gray had never said any such thing. But Adel knew this was the most effective way to deflect Doran's nosy curiosity about her.
As expected, Doran's face flushed red. He scowled, ducked his head, and muttered in disbelief.
"I knew it would come to this. Tell him to ease up on the love already. Hasn't it been time to let go now that he's getting married? Making me embarrassed in front of Charlotte—really. I'm dying of shame here."
Unfortunately, it shut him up in a different way than Adel had intended, but at least Doran stopped with the baffling questions. Adel was satisfied.
Freed from Doran's prying, Adel indifferently scanned the dining room. Even deliberately looking around slowly, Doran was still lost in his torment.
This time, she glanced at the pretty shrubs outside the window. The beautiful frames on the pristine walls, the lace curtains fluttering in the gentle breeze.
With nowhere else to look, she turned back to Doran. He was still agonizing.
Adel reluctantly decided to humor him a little. To play along with his rhythm, just a bit.
"Doran."
To be clear, she was only asking because he looked so desperate to spill.
Really. Absolutely, positively not because she herself was dying of curiosity. No way.
"Is Young Master really getting married?"
Doran snapped his head up and squinted mischievously.
"Right? You were curious too, huh, Adel?! Great, I'll tell you everything. Haha. He probably will. So isn't that arrogant Kaufman Grand Duke personally bringing his daughter to Carlo? You hear? This is the first time the Kaufman Grand Duke's ever visiting Karl."
"But... is that really possible?"
"What?"
This one was genuinely because Doran had practically begged her to ask.
"Meeting up again with a former lover you'd broken up with, for each other's goals, and getting married—like that."
Doran beckoned her closer. Adel pretended reluctance but leaned in to hear better.
"Dunno about other couples, but those two could get back together anytime they wanted. They didn't break up on bad terms."
Adel's eyes widened slightly.
"Didn't break up on bad terms? Did someone get in the way between them?"
It wasn't unheard of in noble society. For parents and children alike, marriage was always the ultimate tool for bolstering power and business.
Families like Kaufman or Valoneck, at the top tier, wouldn't easily permit their heirs' love matches. They'd choose allies that offered political or economic strength.
But Doran snorted as if her question was absurd.
"Nah, no. Usually, the more outsiders meddle in a romance, the hotter it burns, right? So that couple was the opposite."
"…Opposite?"
"Yeah. Even with everyone pushing them to make it work, it never heated up. So naturally... breakup. Ta-da."
Adel felt her racing pulse settle. Only then did she realize her heart had been pounding right up until Doran's answer.
Why did I...
She snapped out of her brief surprise, only to find Doran's eyes too close. He was staring straight into her eyes reflected in her glasses, with a somewhat puzzled look.
"But Adel."
"Yes."
"Up close like this, your eyes are so..."
It was the moment Doran's hand started rising toward her glasses. Just then, the dining room's front door swung open, and the luncheon host made his elegant entrance.
"Hello. My..."
Gray, mid-greeting to Adel and Doran, froze halfway through the doorway.
His gaze quickly swept over Adel and Doran facing each other, then Doran's hand hovering half-raised toward Adel's face.
His sensuous lips, rigid for a split second, soon curved into a leisurely smile.
"Hello. My friends."
With a casual tilt of his head as a fresh greeting, Gray was already at the table.
"Hello, Gray."
"Hello, Young Master."
Doran greeted halfheartedly, Adel impassively.
Gray suddenly reached over from the seat beside Doran—where his own place was set—and ruffled Doran's hair wildly.
"Hey! What the hell!"
Doran swatted Gray's hand away with the same one he'd been about to use on Adel's glasses. Gray chuckled.
"The ugly duckling looks handsome today. Impressive."
"Cut it out! When you say it, it sounds sincere, and that's creepy."
"Fair. As a devout believer, I can't lie."
"Whoa. Gray just blasphemed."
Doran made a pious sign of the cross over his chest and smoothed down his wrecked hair. Gray looked pleased, as if it was at least somewhat presentable now. Then, out of nowhere, he dragged his chair to the head seat diagonally across from Doran and Adel.
"What, why are you sitting there?"
Gray lightly shook the bell on the table as he replied.
"Bit late to point it out, but I'm the boss, aren't I?"
Ignoring Doran's 'What, this lunatic now?' expression, Gray directed the rushing servants to relocate his tableware.
Once the seating was sorted, the front door opened again, and a cart laden with appetizers rolled in.
And so began the lunch luncheon of Gray, Doran, and Adel—aka Gray and his friends.
But just as head chef Jillent set the appetizers before the three and started explaining the dishes, a sudden thud sounded from under the table.
"Ow! What now, Gray!"
Gray had kicked Doran's leg under the table. He smiled softly and wiggled his fingers.
"Ah, sorry. My mistake."
Today, too, the handsomeness perched feather-light on his radiant face beamed as gently as an archangel's smile.
