Chapter 3
As they entered the study, Harrison closed the door himself and invited Alexa to take a seat on the comfortable sofa. He perched on the edge of the single armchair positioned diagonally across from her. It was a signal that this might turn into a lengthy conversation—Harrison never settled back comfortably into the sofa when the topic at hand was something important.
“It’s not a grave matter.”
His gaze drifted briefly to the family photograph of the four of them standing on the nearby side table. In the picture, Isabella, Harrison, Alexa, and Dominic were all beaming with the brightest smiles they could muster.
“You really love that photo.”
“It’s an image I’ll never forget until the day I die.”
Harrison awkwardly rubbed his chin with his thumb.
“Anyway, I figured it was best to have this conversation somewhere Isabella couldn’t overhear.”
“I’m prepared to hear whatever it is.”
Harrison wore a puzzled expression at the hint of solemnity in Alexa’s voice.
“Alexa, that’s the sort of thing you say to someone who’s about to send you packing. I can’t imagine there are many in all of Rosnaire who would dare mistreat Alexa Winterborn.”
So it wasn’t bad news. Alexa managed a faint smile as she clasped her fingertips together.
“I don’t know why the warmer weather always makes me miss Isabella so much.”
“We all figured that as the days brightened up, Mother’s health would follow suit.”
“That’s a fair point. The four of us were all waiting for that day. In the end, it never came…”
Harrison’s face clouded with a mix of emotions as he roughly scratched the corner of his eye with a fingertip. Through sheer, determined effort, Alexa had trained herself not to burst into tears at the mere mention of her mother’s name; now, she offered her stepfather a gentle, comforting look. After a moment to collect himself, Harrison slowly began to speak.
“I know you’re pouring your heart into Everhart to fulfill her dream. And I find that side of you utterly endearing. So please, don’t take this the wrong way.”
“Of course not.”
Harrison drew in a short, steadying breath.
“My lawyer’s already warned me against saying this, but I reserve the right to speak my mind whenever I damn well please.”
The eyes of the man known as the raging bull bored straight into the person seated across from him, piercing like a lance. The ticking of the clock’s hands was the only sound in the study, where not even a breath disturbed the silence.
“I want to leave Everhart to you.”
The words shattered the quiet like a thunderclap. Alexa, who had been sitting with her hands folded in her lap, found her mouth hanging open foolishly before she even realized it. Her mind, which had been racing to anticipate what this serious talk might entail, seemed to grind to a complete halt.
Everhart. Was there another Everhart besides the beautiful department store on Burrell Street that she knew?
Harrison, who had been watching his stepdaughter’s reaction closely, added with a playful glint.
“Of course, not immediately. I haven’t even amended the will yet.”
He spoke of bequeathing a department store of staggering value as casually as if he were offering a child a box of sweets. It felt utterly surreal. Alexa had never dared to imagine such a moment, even in her wildest dreams. Her only aspiration had been to work as long and hard as possible, earning her own way in the world.
“I mentioned it to Dominic beforehand. He agreed without hesitation. That boy is oddly selfless when it comes to anything involving you.”
Alexa opened and closed her mouth several times, struggling to find words, before finally summoning the strength to respond.
“…This is something I never even dreamed of.”
Her voice came out high and strained, like it was squeezed through a constricted throat—it sounded ridiculous.
“But you’re pleased, aren’t you?”
“Of course!”
Alexa exclaimed hastily, then hurried to express her thanks.
“To offer me Everhart Department Store—no one in the world could hear that and not be overjoyed. I’m just so stunned, I don’t know what to say.”
“Everhart wouldn’t be where it is today without Isabella’s contributions. And you are her only daughter—my daughter. It’s only natural that you should inherit it.”
“Thank you for putting it that way. You can’t imagine how deeply moved I am.”
“But there’s a condition.”
Harrison Winterborn’s contracts demanded to be read a hundred times over. Fail to do so, and he might just sell your soul to the devil himself.
Recalling the chilling rumors that swirled through society, Alexa quietly pondered what her stepfather’s stipulation might be. If Everhart tipped one side of the scales, what could possibly balance the other? At least among her own possessions, nothing came close to matching the department store’s worth.
“I’d like you to marry a suitable partner.”
“Marriage?”
Alexa’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected reply.
“Most businessmen still refuse to see women as trustworthy partners in matters of faith and alliance. You’ve likely felt that firsthand in your work.”
“Yes.”
Harrison continued in a tone laced with conviction.
“I have faith in you—the you who stood by Isabella’s side, absorbing her philosophy and her shrewdness. But I’m also acutely aware that others won’t trust you to the same degree I do. And I respect their perspectives as well.”
“I see what you’re getting at.”
“Men like them harbor a fear of the unfamiliar that’s far greater than you’d expect. I was the same way before I met Isabella—a pigheaded fool clinging to misguided beliefs as if they were gospel.”
“But you converted, didn’t you?”
At Alexa’s words, Harrison suddenly let out a sharp bark of laughter. Converted! He muttered it to himself like an echo, then gave his thigh a light slap with his palm.
“You’re absolutely right. And choosing to spend the rest of my life as one of Isabella’s faithful was the best decision I ever made. No regrets whatsoever.”
“So you believe I need a devoted follower of my own.”
“A woman with a fine husband at her side commands respect from others far more readily than an unmarried one. And truthfully, I’m a bit afraid that if we put off your marriage any longer, I’ll start hearing whispers about being a neglectful father who couldn’t secure a match for his only daughter.”
With all the kindnesses he had already shown her, Alexa felt as though she owed him a debt she could never fully repay in a lifetime. Marriage still felt foreign and intimidating, but she set aside her wavering emotions and nodded without hesitation.
“I’ll search for one. Though I’m not sure if I can find a devotee as exceptional as my mother.”
A smile of genuine delight spread across Harrison’s lips as he accepted her agreement.
“You will, without a doubt. I’ll pull every string in my network to find you the most perfect match. And don’t give a thought to the dowry—it’s taken care of.”
Alexa bid him goodnight and left his study.
She ascended quietly to her bedroom and changed from her dress into her nightgown without summoning the maid. So much had unfolded in such a short span that she felt utterly dazed.
Once she had tidied everything away, Alexa took a calm survey of the bedroom she had decorated alongside her mother.
The vase and console they had chosen together, the photograph of mother and daughter standing by the seaside that hung beside the dressing table—even the bedding that adorned the bed where she now sat bore Isabella’s touch in every corner. Overwhelmed by a sense of desolation, Alexa ran a hand over her face.
The time to leave this place has arrived.
She had known it would come eventually, but she never anticipated that the monumental event of inheriting Everhart Department Store would be woven into it. A whirlwind of excitement, tension, and fear churned within her, making her heart feel as if it might burst.
Marriage. Becoming someone’s wife.
Her mother, Isabella, had managed it three times over. Yet beneath the thrill, a sudden wave of dread washed over her. For the marriages Alexa recalled were journeys marred by societal scorn and familial bitterness, their endings fraught with uncertainty.
* * *
Isabella was the daughter of Rob Bridier, the wealthiest banker in the New World nation of Aren.
At twenty, she fell head over heels for a naval officer and married him against her parents’ wishes, giving birth to Alexa the following year. But Alexa’s father lost his life during an overseas deployment, leaving Isabella no choice but to return to her parents’ home with her toddler daughter, who had only just begun to walk. She pleaded for her father’s forgiveness and was welcomed back into the Bridier fold.
For several years, she devoted herself to assisting with the family business—the department store—while raising her young child. It was at a social gathering that she encountered Duke Belsmeyer. The duke pursued her relentlessly. Rob, eager for his daughter and granddaughter to live under the duke’s protection, granted his blessing, and so Alexa’s second father became the duke.
Newspapers in both countries sensationalized the shocking union as the event where Bridier’s fortune had bent even the ducal house to its will. As a consequence of that abrupt remarriage, fourteen-year-old Alexa left the familiar warmth of her family home behind, awakening instead in a bedroom within the duke’s manor—a place where an eerie chill seeped up even in the height of summer.
Late at night, the manor was as still as an uninhabited ruin. Alexa carefully slipped out of bed, glancing briefly at the bell cord to summon a maid, before draping a blanket over her shoulders and venturing into the hallway.
It was an hour when everyone should have been asleep. Yet her stomach growled from having scarcely eaten amid the day’s endless stream of guests from lunch through dinner. Maintaining a doll-like smile while trying to enjoy duck drizzled in plum sauce proved an impossible feat.
All she needed was a simple slice of bread and a cup of warm milk. A true noble might have tugged the cord to call a servant. But Alexa wasn’t accustomed to rousing someone for such a minor desire. Nor did she want to invite gossip about how she wasn’t even nobility yet but was already bossing maids around.
Back in Aren, their home boasted a modern kitchen, so whenever hunger struck, she could casually head downstairs and charm a snack out of the chef. It wasn’t just her—her grandparents mingled freely with the staff too. It was a relaxed, practical arrangement for all.
In the end, blanket wrapped around her, Alexa set off resolutely toward where she guessed the kitchen might lie.
The wide corridor was shrouded in darkness, with scarcely any lights burning. Eerie drafts whispering from behind closed doors quickened her pace. After walking for what felt like ages, Alexa came to an abrupt halt.
It couldn’t possibly be this far from the bedroom to the kitchen.
Lining both sides of the hallway were suits of armor whose presence in a lived-in home defied explanation. They gave off a metallic tang mingled with the musty scent of dust.
Had she truly gotten lost? She had thought the layout was starting to feel familiar, but the manor proved vaster than she had imagined. With no lights to guide her, even the direction she had come from blurred in her mind.
Gripping the blanket more tightly, Alexa pressed on a little farther. A faint glow emanated from the end of the corridor. Whoever was inside, asking for directions seemed the wisest course. She approached quietly and tilted her head just enough to peer through the door spilling yellow light—at that precise instant.
“What are you doing?”
The voice came from behind her without the slightest warning, startling Alexa so badly that her legs buckled beneath her as if she might faint. Unable to even scream, she crumpled to the floor and looked up with wide, trembling eyes.
Raymond Belsmeyer, clad in a light shirt, gazed down at her with an impassive expression. His black hair fell naturally over his forehead, casting deep shadows across his face. Alexa drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the boy, unable to tear her eyes away.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
