Chapter 101: Intrusion
“How about we set specific dates for regular meetups? You know, like a proper date?”
Eric had proposed a single rule to ensure their pretend courtship wouldn’t consume too much of their time.
Once a week, from lunch to evening—that was the plan for their dates.
Naturally, Iris agreed. If they had to meet more frequently or on a whim, it would’ve felt far more burdensome.
Keeping things just convincing enough to sidestep their parents’ worries and suspicions was the best arrangement for both of them.
“Milady, which earrings would you like?”
Mila, Iris’s personal maid, held out a pair of pearl earrings in one hand and diamond ones in the other, her question gentle but attentive.
Today was the designated day for Iris’s regular date with Eric. The plan was to watch a newly premiered opera, stroll through the park, visit a social club for a bit, and then part ways.
“The ones on the right,” Iris decided.
“Very well. You’re all set now, milady.”
Mila carefully fastened the diamond earrings onto Iris’s earlobes, offering a warm smile before stepping back.
Iris grabbed a small handbag and left the house. She and Eric had agreed to meet in front of the opera house. Arriving ten minutes early, she waited patiently by the entrance. Right on the dot, Eric appeared, barely making it on time.
He rushed up to her, breathless, and propped himself up with a hand on his knee as he panted.
“Huff… hah… Lady Iris, have you… been waiting long?”
“No, it’s fine. I haven’t been here long,” she replied kindly.
“I’m so sorry. I found this incredibly fascinating paper last night and ended up reading it all night…”
Eric, finally catching his breath, gave an awkward smile. He’d barely managed a short nap in the morning, meaning he hadn’t slept properly in hours.
Still, his appearance was impeccably polished—only someone paying close attention would notice the faint signs of exhaustion. The problem was, Iris had a habit of observing people closely. She spotted the telltale redness around his eyes, a clear sign of fatigue.
“Will you be able to enjoy the opera today?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.
“Of course! Let’s head in.”
Smiling softly at her worried question, Eric offered his arm. After a brief hesitation, Iris rested her hand on it.
Guided by a theater attendant, the two made their way to the VIP section. They sat side by side at a table adorned with non-alcoholic champagne and small appetizers. Iris leaned in slightly, her voice a soft whisper.
“If you’re too tired, we could just watch the opera and call it a day. You should go home and get some rest.”
“After you’ve gone out of your way to make time for me? I couldn’t possibly,” Eric replied, his tone light but firm.
“But you look exhausted, Eric. I’d be fine with just the opera.”
Her voice was so gentle, so considerate, that Eric paused, gazing at her with a faint, almost dejected expression before dipping his head.
“I’m sorry. I promise I won’t stay up all night reading papers before our next date.”
“What? No, I’m not upset, Eric. Please don’t misunderstand,” Iris said, her face flushing with panic as she waved her hands. She’d only meant to be considerate, knowing how tired he must be after staying up all night.
Eric looked at her, fidgeting nervously, with an odd glint in his eyes. Clearly, he was the one at fault here, yet Iris’s reaction made it seem otherwise. He opened his mouth, about to say something, when—
“Well, well, who do we have here?”
An unwelcome face popped up over the railing of the neighboring box.
“Lady Iris Hugo, here of all places! What a delightful surprise.”
Oscar, wearing a slick, insincere smile, waved at Iris with exaggerated enthusiasm.
Iris’s eyes widened in shock. Why was someone who was supposed to be in the duchy suddenly appearing in the next box?
“Lord Vandemir, what brings you here…?” she asked, bewildered.
“I’ve decided to stay in the capital for a while,” Oscar replied smoothly. “Came out to enjoy some culture, and lo and behold, I run into you—fate, wouldn’t you say?”
He spoke with brazen confidence, as if he hadn’t deliberately tracked her down, all while pointedly ignoring Eric, who sat right beside her.
“Since we’ve crossed paths like this, how about we watch the opera together?”
“No, I’m here with someone…” Iris began, her tone firm but polite.
“Oh, come now, I’m sure Lord Roberts won’t mind. I’ll join you—wait just a moment!”
Cutting off the conversation unilaterally, Oscar pulled back with a flourish. Iris’s lips parted in stunned silence, her mind reeling.
He’s staying in the capital for a while…?
A chill ran down her spine, goosebumps prickling the inside of her arm.
His silence until now hadn’t been a sign of giving up—it might’ve been him laying the groundwork for something more persistent. The thought alone made her dizzy, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. Turning to Eric with an apologetic look, she murmured,
“I’m sorry, Eric. It seems I’ve dragged you into another mess with Lord Vandemir…”
“No, it’s not your fault. He’s the one barging in without a care,” Eric replied, his tone understanding. He’d seen how Oscar ignored Iris’s polite refusal and pushed forward anyway.
Even now, Oscar had vanished without giving them a chance to object. Just then, a theater attendant approached their box, carrying an extra chair.
“Lord Oscar has requested to join you here,” the attendant said. “Where should I place the chair?”
“Oh… just set it there,” Iris replied, her voice faint, still grappling with the absurdity of it all.
Eric swiftly intervened as the attendant moved to place the chair near Iris, gesturing instead to his own side.
The attendant left, and Oscar entered moments later. Seeing his chair positioned next to Eric, he frowned, his brow furrowing in irritation.
“I believe I suggested watching the opera with Lady Iris,” he said pointedly.
“I can’t very well let another man sit beside my companion,” Eric replied, his tone gentle but unyielding. “If you insist on joining us, you’re welcome to sit by me, Lord Vandemir.”
Oscar’s face twisted with displeasure, but he reluctantly sank into the chair beside Eric.
Soon, the lights dimmed, and the curtain rose, signaling the start of the performance.
Throughout the opera, Oscar was a restless nuisance. He muttered incessantly, complaining that the performance was dull or outright boring.
Iris and Eric felt their patience stretched to its limits, silently willing the show to end.
When they finally stepped out of the theater, their minds were as blank as if they hadn’t watched a thing. The tickets had been hard to come by, but Oscar’s disruptions had made it impossible to focus on the story.
“Honestly, wasn’t that just awful?” Oscar continued to gripe even after the performance ended. “Who in the world booked such a dreadful show?”
His words were a veiled jab at Eric’s choice, a sly attempt to undermine him.
“If it were me, I’d have picked a far more entertaining performance, Lady Iris,” he added, winking at her with a smug grin.
Iris, her patience wearing thin, turned her head to avoid his exaggerated expression. Eric subtly stepped forward, positioning himself to shield her from Oscar’s gaze. Oscar’s eyes narrowed, his face darkening with annoyance as he glared at Eric.
Catching his stare, Eric flashed a bright, almost defiant smile.
“Who booked it, you say? Why, you did, Lord Vandemir. Didn’t you come to see it yourself?”
“…!”
Caught off guard, Oscar opened his mouth to retort, but Eric cut him off with a polite yet firm dismissal.
“Well, we’ll be on our way, Lord Vandemir.”
His words made it abundantly clear that Oscar’s company was no longer welcome.
Oscar, flustered at the prospect of Eric whisking Iris away, grabbed at him in a panic.
“Where are you going?”
“Do I owe you an explanation?” Eric replied, his smile unwavering but his tone carrying an unmistakable edge.
Realizing Eric had no intention of indulging him, Oscar’s lips twisted into a scowl. He couldn’t stand the way this mere earl’s son strutted about as if he were someone important. In Oscar’s mind, Iris was only temporarily by Eric’s side—she would soon be his.
How dare the heir to the Vandemir duchy be treated so arrogantly?
Fuming inwardly, Oscar watched as Eric led Iris toward their carriage. He wanted to stop them, but he lacked any justifiable reason to do so.
“Ugh…!”
Frustrated, Oscar stomped his foot, his anger boiling over.
Do they think I can’t follow them just because they won’t tell me where they’re going?
Scrambling into his own carriage, he barked at the driver to tail them. When Iris and Eric stepped out at the park, Oscar was right behind them, alighting from his carriage with infuriating nonchalance.
The pair froze, stunned to see him trailing them even here. Oblivious to their dismay, Oscar sauntered over, whistling casually.
“Well, well, we meet again! This must be fate, Lady Iris. Our connection is something special, isn’t it?”
“Are you following us on purpose?” Eric asked bluntly, his voice cutting through Oscar’s theatrical charm like a splash of cold water.
Stung by the accusation, though unwilling to admit it, Oscar raised his voice defensively.
“Follow you? Ha! Don’t flatter yourself, Lord Roberts. You’re delusional.”
“Fine, then. Enjoy your walk,” Eric replied coolly, turning away.
“Do as you please!” Oscar shot back, waving them off dismissively.
But moments later, he began trailing them again, pretending to stroll alone while keeping a persistent eye on their every move. Whenever they glanced back, he’d quickly turn his head, feigning disinterest. If they started a friendly conversation, he’d swoop in to interrupt.
“Look at that cloud over there—doesn’t it look like a dog? See how the round bits stick out like ears?”
“Oh, you’re right!” Iris exclaimed softly. “It looks like a puppy bounding along—so adorable—”
“Ahem, Lord Roberts!” Oscar cut in sharply. “Don’t walk so close to Lady Iris. You’re making people uncomfortable.”
“…Adorable, isn’t it? Haha,” Eric said, forcing a laugh.
Iris and Eric did their best to ignore Oscar’s presence, knowing that engaging him would only play into his hands.
“Oh, what a darling flower,” Iris murmured, spotting a cluster of delicate white blooms along the path.
“Hmm, daisies?” Eric asked.
“No, they’re gujeolcho,” Iris corrected gently. “They look similar at a glance, but they’re different. Gujolcho starts with a faint pink hue and turns white as it matures.”
The two leaned closer to the flowers, chatting quietly. Oscar, watching from a distance, felt a pang of jealousy flare in his chest.
Something to draw their attention…
His eyes darted around until he spotted a patch of gujeolcho nearby. Without hesitation, he yanked them up by the handful, carelessly uprooting other flowers in the process. Striding over with a self-satisfied grin, he thrust the messy bundle toward Iris.
“Lady Iris, these flowers pale in comparison to your beauty, but they carry my heartfelt admiration.”
Iris’s brow furrowed as she looked at the mangled blooms in his hand. The sight of him thoughtlessly tearing up the delicate flowers did little to endear him to her.
“…I’m fine, thank you,” she said politely, but firmly.
“Oh, come now! I’ll get you a grander bouquet later, so just take these for now,” Oscar insisted, misinterpreting her refusal as a critique of the flowers’ quality. He pressed the bundle into her hands.
Iris, now holding the pitifully broken stems, struggled to keep her expression neutral. Unable to bring herself to toss them aside, she carried them reluctantly as they walked on.
“It seems Lord Vandemir is determined to ruin our date,” Eric whispered, casting a sidelong glance at Oscar, who refused to stray too far.
“He might be trying to sabotage things to drive a wedge between us,” he added.
Iris’s face darkened at the all-too-accurate guess. In a low, troubled voice, she murmured,
“I made it clear last time that I wasn’t interested. Why is he doing this…?”
Was he still trying to use her to get closer to Aracila? If so, how could she fend off this boorish noble and protect both herself and her sister?
Noticing the storm cloud settling over Iris’s face, Eric spoke up softly.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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