Chapter 10: What It Means to Become Real
Their persistent stares clearly showed they were demanding answers. Flustered, Lindia hastily offered explanations without even realizing what she was saying. She had already forgotten Sabrina’s constant warnings to watch her words.
“That’s not what I meant… Ah! I meant she e-eloped for love! My sister running away from home? That’s absurd. She even had a man she was set to marry. I can understand her decision. When you love someone—when you love someone desperately—who would want a loveless marriage? Don’t you agree…?”
By the time she finished speaking, the women’s eyes had grown even wider.
‘What did I just say?’
Her mind was in such disarray that even her own words were jumbled. Just then, Davira, who had been quietly listening, suddenly asked:
“Are they truly in love?”
Her question was markedly different from the whispers of the other women.
“Of course… they are?”
But why did she feel so uneasy?
Looking into those clear blue eyes, an inexplicable sense of guilt washed over her. She felt ashamed for so casually telling lies.
‘I feel like I should only speak the truth in front of this woman.’
How many times in life would one feel such reverence?
She swallowed hard and managed an awkward smile, but Davira’s gaze remained fixed on her.
‘I want to win Miss Claudia’s favor.’
It was strange. Though “Saint Lucilia incarnate” was merely a nickname and she was just an ordinary lady, why did this woman feel so different from the others?
It wasn’t just her radiant appearance and character, yet she mysteriously drew people in.
The longer Lindia’s rough brown eyes met Davira’s transparent blue ones, the more she began to waver.
I don’t want to be stuck in some rural corner forever. Someday I’ll enter the capital’s social circles, and it would do me no good to be on Davira Claudia’s bad side, would it?
“I asked an unnecessary question. A question with a predetermined answer has no meaning.”
Just then, Davira smiled quietly. The sight was so heartbreaking that anyone watching would have felt the pain.
Lindia couldn’t take her eyes off Davira even as she secretly sighed. For some reason, she kept recalling the moment at the hunting grounds when Davira first extended her hand.
* * *
Upon returning to the ballroom, Kaylon was nowhere to be seen. Strange for a man usually surrounded by prominent figures—where could he have disappeared to?
Lyra looked around, even checking the last place she had seen him, but to no avail. Her gaze inevitably drifted to the dance floor.
Nobles dancing with elegant movements. Even among the closely packed couples, he couldn’t be found. Instead, Lyra fixed her gaze on a woman who caught her eye.
‘Leona Vuitton.’
She had approached her to win over the Marchioness of Pompagneu, but with minimal results.
Leona had changed into the dress Lyra had mended, left with just a word of thanks, and exited the cloakroom—with a lightness that suggested she had no lingering attachment whatsoever.
Lyra had thought she’d shown some goodwill, which made it all the more disappointing. After briefly recalling Leona’s eyes lighting up with interest, Lyra turned away.
In any case, opportunities would come again, and right now finding that person took priority.
But…
What would she ask him if she found him?
No, would she even be able to ask anything?
‘Did you wish for my misfortune…’
Her advancing step came to an abrupt halt. Strangely, she couldn’t move forward anymore. It felt as if invisible chains were binding her entire body.
Just as she felt her breath becoming increasingly shallow, she was suddenly spun around to face Leona, who approached her with a flushed face and ragged breathing.
“What’s this? Didn’t you want to dance? I thought you did, from the way you were staring so enviously.”
As her senses gradually returned, a smile rose to Lyra’s face out of habit.
“I was looking for the Duke.”
“Why bother finding a man like that? He’s probably off somewhere droning on about business. Or perhaps he’s doing something shameful in some secluded spot.”
Leona’s mischievous smile turned toward the balcony before returning to Lyra.
For a moment, Lyra’s face stiffened as if Leona’s thoughts were being transmitted directly to her mind. But soon, the memory of kissing him on the balcony surfaced, bringing a throbbing pain to her chest.
Balcony, secluded space, kiss.
As her thoughts flowed naturally in a sequence that had now become inextricably linked, Lyra took a slow, trembling breath to compose herself.
“You have quite the imagination, Miss Vuitton.”
A more gracious response would have been better, but her mind had no capacity to consider that.
“My goodness, did I tell you my name?”
Leona covered her mouth and widened her eyes. It was a natural reaction since they hadn’t formally introduced themselves.
Belatedly realizing her mistake, Lyra feigned composure as best she could.
“There’s hardly anyone in Brikna who doesn’t know Leona Vuitton. Even someone like me who’s just entered society.”
It was such a suspicious answer that Leona narrowed her eyes before shrugging her shoulders.
“Hmm. I find that hard to believe… but I’ll play along once more. Anyway! Instead of chasing after a man who could be anywhere, how about dancing with me?”
Fortunately, Leona let it go easily. She crossed her arms and pressed closer to Lyra with a look of curiosity. Her actions were uninhibited, suggesting she didn’t much care for proper etiquette.
“Me, with you, Miss Vuitton?”
Lyra couldn’t help but ask. Typically, it was customary and proper for a man and woman to pair up for dancing.
Yet Leona casually shrugged her shoulders, countering Lyra’s words.
“Does it matter who? Dancing is about enjoyment.”
Though it was a response outside common sense that Lyra could hardly follow, she found herself nodding anyway.
Lyra stared blankly at Leona.
What a fascinating woman.
Whenever Lyra felt herself sinking beneath the surface, this woman unfailingly pulled her back up. Just now, and earlier too.
Perhaps that’s why, despite her clearly willful nature, Lyra couldn’t bring herself to dislike her. Even without an ulterior motive, she was the kind of woman Lyra would want to befriend.
A new musical movement was about to begin. As the introductory notes flowed, a gradual stirring rose in her heart. She felt it would be a waste of all the time she’d spent diligently learning to dance for these balls.
And above all, to captivate Leona Vuitton’s heart, this seemed far better than any half-hearted scheme. This free-spirited, tomboyish young lady seemed to need a like-minded companion.
Straightening her waist and shoulders, Lyra assumed a posture as if she were a gentleman and extended her hand toward Leona.
“Shall we go then, my lady?”
Leona immediately responded to the smile that gently lifted the corners of Lyra’s lips.
“Of course. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
As they exchanged bright smiles back and forth, the two had suddenly become the latest sensation on the dance floor.
