Chapter 12
It must be a coincidence.
Alexa shifted one step to the right, eyeing him suspiciously. Raymond moved in the same direction, blocking her path. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he remained unmoved. Alexa tried darting to the left instead. Once again, Raymond followed, cutting her off.
This unbelievably childish obstruction continued three more times. In the end, Alexa stubbornly changed direction, nearly burying her nose in Raymond’s white cravat, and gave up on leaving the balcony.
How could a woman in a dress possibly break through a man who had graduated from the military academy as the top cadet? With eyes burning in defiance, Alexa stared straight at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to leave.”
Permission? She was dumbfounded. And even more so because Raymond showed not a shred of shame in his behavior as he said it.
“Does one need a noble’s permission even to leave a balcony like this?”
“May I ask how much you paid Lady Bonice to get in here?”
“Lady Bonice is my aunt. It’s not strange for her to show me kindness.”
Her desperate defense only earned her a scoff from Raymond. No one was unaware of the countess’s notorious reputation for arranging meetings between women from wealthy families and cash-strapped heirs to titles.
The moonlight illuminated the woman’s forehead and cheeks, casting soft shadows along her straight collarbone before reaching the gentle swell beneath her necklace. Raymond’s eyes narrowed as his gaze followed that light downward. The upper chest, pressed beneath fabric as translucent as dragonfly wings, stood out starkly under the moon’s glow.
Could anyone call her a good aunt for dressing her in such flimsy scraps and parading her before the pack like this? The woman’s foolish illusions about family seemed as intact as ever.
“Is playing innocent part of your strategy?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Shall I make a list of the men you danced with tonight? That might help you understand.”
“Who I dance with is none of Your Grace’s business.”
“Why shouldn’t I get involved?”
“Because, obviously…”
“I was your family.”
At those words, Alexa opened her mouth as if she had a lot to say, then closed it again, as though she saw no need to explain. Her red lips, like rose petals bitten and released, were pressed together.
“I’m not sure when you gave permission for that word.”
Back when Alexa still hadn’t abandoned her expectations of Raymond, she had called him that, if only briefly.
We are family. So I’ll try to get close to you.
But after Raymond himself had shattered that illusion into pieces, she had never uttered the word again.
“Didn’t you start calling me that? Unless my memory is wrong.”
Raymond knew exactly how his words would land. Arrogant, shameless. He didn’t care.
“Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?”
Raymond echoed her words like an innocent child.
“Of course. Just as Mother is no longer the duchess, I’m no longer the duke’s daughter. The fact that you’ve become the duke is proof of that.”
“Are you calling me the duke? What an honor.”
“What does my acknowledgment mean to Your Grace? When the royal family and noble society call you duke, that’s when you truly are one.”
“For someone who thinks that way, you’re awfully insolent.”
Alexa, who had been stringing her words together so crisply, let out a faint sigh as if she couldn’t bear it any longer.
“Duke Belsmeyer.”
“Yes?”
“Mother and I are no longer obstacles to Your Grace. She is no longer the duchess, and the previous duke’s legitimate son, who might have threatened you, doesn’t exist anywhere in the world.”
Even now, Alexa was bothered by the fact that her and her mother’s appearance had shaken Raymond’s position. But now it was all over. So it was right for them to go their separate ways.
There was no need to dredge up the childish words exchanged during that short-lived family charade and spark a belated rekindling. Just as one naturally discards a wet match without regret.
“People have spread malicious rumors about the divorce, but Your Grace and I know they’re not true. The two of you wished each other happiness.”
“That’s news to me. Are you sure you’re not mistaken? Can you be certain the duchess didn’t resent the family?”
“At least I’ve never resented Belsmeyer.”
“Even if you didn’t resent it, that sounds like you couldn’t wish it happiness. Did you learn that clever dodging from the countess?”
“If you keep nitpicking like this, even an angel’s advice would sound like a devil’s scheme.”
“Are you done talking? What should I do for you?”
“Move aside.”
“Fine.”
Alexa glanced at Raymond in disbelief. But he truly stepped back from the door, as if he meant to let her go.
He was still as bad-tempered as ever. In fact, he seemed worse. Alexa mulled over this renewed realization as she tried to leave the balcony. But just before she could open the door, Raymond lightly grabbed her wrist. The distance between them closed in an instant, sending ripples through the hem of Alexa’s skirt.
“Tell me why you’re limping.”
Alexa swallowed involuntarily at the green eyes now even closer than before. Raymond didn’t blink, as if peering straight into her thoughts.
“Then I’ll move.”
Flustered by the proximity, Alexa felt all her nerves focus on the wrist he held.
“I don’t know what you mean. Let go.”
“From the moment I came in here, you’ve been deliberately letting your skirt drag. Your stance is unnatural too.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Did someone step on your foot on purpose while dancing?”
It was a question laced with certainty. After a brief hesitation, Alexa shook her head in denial.
“It seems Your Grace has experience deliberately stepping on a lady’s foot. Everyone who escorted me tonight was courteous, so my feet are fine.”
“Walk.”
“What did you just say?”
“Lift your skirt. Let me check your foot.”
Raymond furrowed his brow, as if repeating himself was a hassle. Stunned by the absurd demand, Alexa twisted her captured wrist this way and that before yanking it free.
Even so, Raymond stared obsessively at the hem of her skirt, as if intent on checking underneath himself. Sensing danger, Alexa thrust out her arm toward the approaching Raymond and cried out urgently.
“I dropped my shoe!”
Fortunately, those words stopped him in his tracks. He wore a puzzled expression, trying to make sense of what Alexa had just blurted out. Her face flushed with embarrassment.
“I dropped my shoe off the balcony. That’s why my posture looks odd—I’m only wearing one.”
“Did you dance a quadrille with the moon or something?”
“If that’s how it happened, I wouldn’t be this embarrassed. The new shoes didn’t fit well, so my feet were uncomfortable. I took them off to rest for a moment, but when Your Grace suddenly came in, I accidentally kicked it myself.”
“Over the railing?”
“It didn’t fly to the moon, did it?”
Raymond looked down over the railing. Sure enough, one white shoe sat atop a neatly trimmed bush. It seemed true that her awkward posture was due to the shoe. The thought that the woman had been conversing barefoot on one side all this time made him chuckle.
“Is this some new ploy trending in Aren?”
Alexa, who had been calculating her path to sneak down to the garden without revealing her bare foot, could only frown at his insult.
“What are you saying now…”
“You threw the shoe down there on purpose, planning to ask whichever gentleman came in to fetch it for you, right?”
“Are you saying I dropped it intentionally?”
“It might be too obvious for your tastes, but you do put effort into things you don’t like.”
The feather fan dropping limply in front of Dominic, the laughter tinged with anticipation. The eyes voyeuristically enjoying the other’s discomfort. Those images suddenly flashed in Alexa’s mind. Did her mistake appear that way to Raymond too? Her head cooled as if doused in cold water.
“You’re right.”
Even if she claimed it was a misunderstanding, he wouldn’t believe her. Alexa admitted it readily.
“Because Your Grace came in, the plan my aunt and I poured our hearts into went awry.”
“What?”
“If it had been someone like Count Cornet, I would have asked him to fetch the shoe. What a shame. But there’ll be a next time.”
With those words, Alexa politely curtsied and hurried out of the balcony before anyone could stop her. She moved so swiftly it looked as if an invisible thread were pulling her slender form away.
She would have asked the count?
Raymond repeated her last words to himself, tearing his gaze from the woman’s empty spot to stare down at the balcony below. A premonition that the shoe’s owner would appear kept him rooted in place. Unlike his impassive face, his fingers tapped lightly on the railing.
After a short while, the extraordinary woman who had deceived the world with only one shoe showed herself. Alexa retrieved the shoe from atop the bush and slipped it on, teetering as she balanced. Then, as if sensing the gaze piercing down from above, she lifted her head.
The sole of her foot must be uncomfortable and irritating, covered in dirt and dust, yet Alexa did her utmost to offer an elegant farewell to the duke on the balcony. As if to say, This is no problem for me without your help.
Should he acknowledge the spirit of a woman who would walk barefoot through the society gossips eager to catch an heiress in a slip? Or praise her will to refuse his help even if it killed her?
Only after the woman vanished from the garden did Raymond open the door to head back inside. But just before stepping in, he noticed a glittering object on the floor.
He bent down to pick it up and held it to the light. Dangling from Raymond’s long fingers was a thin bracelet with a strap. It hadn’t been there when he entered, so it must belong to the woman who had just stood here.
The woman’s wish to avoid entanglement in their old grudge shattered so futilely. He wondered what her face would look like when she realized it.
She said it was all over. But this was not the end.
A flicker of anticipation crossed Raymond’s eyes as he reached his conclusion. The bracelet dangling from his fingers soon disappeared into the inner pocket of his black jacket.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
