Chapter 7
“What are you saying? You, really…”
Just yesterday, she had blushed at the news of her engagement to Cedric Angel. Now, with a resolute demeanor as if she were a completely different person, Count Greenwood was about to sense something amiss.
“Even if it’s not Angel, there must be families that could benefit our house. Please find someone else.”
Clutching the blanket tightly, Ines spoke in a desperate voice.
“Anyone but him. Please, Father.”
Her words softened the count’s fierce gaze a little.
“Ines, you know that’s impossible. What do you think of your father’s prestige?”
“Father!”
“We just received the response to the marriage proposal yesterday. And it was one I initiated. To retract it the very next day after confirmation— you seem utterly unconcerned about my face hitting the dirt.”
“That’s not it!”
“Rest for now. The fever from the injury must have gone to your head.”
Dismissing Ines’s desperate plea as merely due to her pain, Count Greenwood brushed it off casually.
“Besides, everyone in high society knows about your infatuation. If you didn’t want to marry Cedric Angel, you should have conducted yourself properly from the start. Sending you to another family now wouldn’t look good, and I have no reason to miss the chance to humble those who’ve mocked you all this time.”
The rebuke implied that her overt displays of affection for Cedric Angel in public were largely her own fault. If her one-sided love hadn’t become such notorious gossip, perhaps he would have had fewer constraints in choosing her marriage partner.
“What’s the use of all that? Whether they mock me or not, it doesn’t matter to me at all. Not at all.”
“It may not matter to you, but it does to me.”
The count cut her off sharply. He was starting to tire of this conversation.
“The name Greenwood being the butt of jokes behind our backs irritates me to no end. I work so hard to elevate the family’s name, only for you to drag it down—it’s utterly exhausting.”
“Father!”
“You’ve delayed me far too long. If I’m late to the Noble Council meeting because of this, we’ll truly become a laughingstock. We’ll discuss this later. Of course, I trust that once the fever subsides, you’ll regain the sense not to utter such nonsense.”
As he moved to leave the room, the count couldn’t resist adding one more remark.
“Ines. You’ve always been a disappointing daughter to me. No talents, poor social skills. The one thing I ask of you is simply to become a duchess. Surely you won’t say you can’t even manage that. Just become the wife of Cedric Angel, whom you adored so much, and live in luxury for the rest of your life.”
Marie’s heart sank. She knew the count was stern, but today he was exceptionally cold. As expected, Ines seemed hurt, her eyes wavering widely.
At that moment, the steward, having seen off the physician, entered the room and addressed the count.
“My lord, the carriage is ready. Please hurry.”
“Stop with the strange thoughts and rest well. To stand properly by Cedric Angel’s side, that wound needs to heal quickly.”
With those final words, Count Greenwood left his daughter’s room.
“Miss…”
Only after the carriage carrying the count departed through the window did Marie examine Ines’s face. No tears fell, but her expression was filled with despair.
* * *
Meanwhile, Count Greenwood’s mood was at its worst as he rode the carriage to the Noble Council. He hadn’t been a good father, but he’d never spoken to her so harshly before.
Lost in thought briefly, Count Greenwood soon realized the reason.
The sight of his daughter sitting in bed with a haggard face had overlapped with his deceased wife.
“…Yoanna.”
When Ines was twelve, his wife had died from the plague, her bedridden form during illness mirroring Ines’s appearance today. That traumatic memory had made him colder to Ines than necessary.
With only a few months left in the year, Ines would turn twenty. The realization that she was reaching the age when he first met his wife struck him anew. Regret shadowed the count’s face as he recalled his late wife.
Busy with life, he’d forgotten, but his only daughter, Ines, resembled her mother exactly. Though she hadn’t inherited that sunny personality.
Through the count’s softened defenses slipped Ines’s desperate voice. Her plea not to marry Cedric Angel echoed in his ears.
‘Perhaps I should have asked why.’
Her firm rejection of someone she’d infatuated over so publicly was unusual. Uncharacteristically soft-hearted, he mulled over the events at the mansion as the carriage arrived at the Noble Council.
The meeting should have started by now. Yet when the count entered the chamber, it still hadn’t begun.
“Ah, finally here!”
The Noble Council was currently divided into three factions: the empress faction, the consort faction, and the neutrals not aligned with either. The meeting hadn’t proceeded because Count Greenwood, a key figure in the consort faction, was absent.
By title alone, many outranked him, but Count Greenwood held the greatest influence in noble society. Naturally, politics revolved around him.
“My apologies.”
In a voice devoid of remorse, Count Greenwood bowed his head slightly.
“My daughter injured her leg, causing the delay.”
“Your daughter—did something happen to Lady Ines?”
Nodding with a troubled expression to the question from beside him.
“The maid accidentally dropped a glass, and she stepped on it without noticing. I had to call the physician urgently and tend to it.”
“Heh heh. I see.”
The responder glanced at Cedric seated far away and remarked.
“With the engagement approaching, you must be very worried, my lord.”
“Ah, it’s not a severe injury. The physician said a week of rest should heal it.”
“I see! Well, everyone, let’s not dawdle—time to start the meeting.”
As Count Greenwood arrived, the consort faction’s voices grew louder, drawing disapproving glares from the empress faction as they took their seats.
The Noble Council meeting commenced.
* * *
Until the meeting ended, Count Greenwood couldn’t focus at all. The events at the mansion kept swirling in his mind.
After the meeting, he hesitated before approaching Cedric. At the suggestion of a brief talk, Cedric followed him out of the chamber.
“I didn’t mean to overhear, but Viscount Octo’s voice was so loud I couldn’t help it. So, Lady Ines injured her leg. Is she alright?”
Cedric Angel had never shown particular interest in Ines before. Caught off guard by the unexpected concern for her well-being, Count Greenwood pondered his response briefly.
“Ah, yes… It’s not a major wound.”
“I see. What’s the reason for seeing me?”
At Cedric’s question, Count Greenwood hesitated before speaking.
“About what happened yesterday.”
“Yesterday? You mean the engagement?”
Cedric’s tone was dry, as if puzzled why a concluded matter was being raised again.
Cedric Angel.
Now twenty-three, better described as young rather than youthful. Yet the intimidation he exuded mismatched his age entirely.
“…Yes.”
His lips wouldn’t part easily, but having broached it, Count Greenwood had no intention of retreating. His daughter’s image kept haunting him, leading to this uncharacteristic action despite knowing it.
“A talk, you say. What do you want to discuss?”
“I think we decided on the engagement too hastily. Perhaps we should take more time to think.”
“Hastily? Time to think?”
Cedric’s eyebrow arched crookedly.
“Look here, Count Greenwood. Do you even realize what you’re saying?”
Count Greenwood fell silent.
Ines’s infatuation with Cedric Angel wasn’t recent. Yet Cedric had never approached or spoken to Ines first. It signaled he wanted no ties with the consort-aligned Greenwoods.
The count was aware his current behavior was a grave breach of etiquette.
But hadn’t Cedric always been indifferent to Ines? He expected a ready agreement to delay or nullify the engagement—not this heated response.
“Why the sudden change of heart? It can’t be that a better match has appeared now.”
Cedric regarded Count Greenwood with a cold gaze and continued.
“It’s awkward to say myself, but Lady Ines Greenwood holds considerable fondness for me. You’re well aware that no one in high society is ignorant of that.”
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