Chapter 4: To Remove the Shell

Though her behavior had been exactly like that of a struggling maid, making him assume her mind was the same, perhaps that wasn’t the case.

He shifted just his eyes to study Lyra’s profile. Even with her face awkwardly pressed against her arm, her features weren’t unpleasant. Her eyelashes, matching her hair color, were quite full.

“…”

His intense gaze traveled from her thin eyelids to her small nostrils, finally settling on her reddish lips. Those glossy lips somehow managed to look both innocent and sensual at the same time.

‘Looking at her like this, she could pass for a proper city lady—until she opens her eyes, that is.’

Clicking his tongue at the disparity, he glanced again at the book beneath Lyra.

‘Better get rid of that sort of thing.’

The outdated etiquette book, filled with unnecessary formalities, didn’t suit her. Perhaps it would be better if she demolished existing conventions with her unique mannerisms.

‘That would be interesting to watch.’

Letting his thoughts wander, he raised the corner of his mouth as he imagined various scenarios. Her making expansive arm movements at dinner with noble ladies, gulping down wine she’d poured herself during meals, yawning in front of pretentious nobles trying to lecture her.

Though these scenes didn’t quite match her personality, somehow they also seemed fitting—he found himself chuckling before he could stop.

‘Oh dear.’

Quickly stifling his laughter, he checked to make sure she hadn’t woken, then removed his hands from his pockets. He meant to wake the soundly sleeping woman. However, seeing her shoulders rise and fall with peaceful breaths, he couldn’t follow through.

Kaylon tilted his head slightly. What should he do with her? While leaving her here might not matter, it made him uncomfortable just looking at her.

Finally, he bent down and slipped his hands under her armpits and knees, lifting her up in one smooth motion.

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains. Awakening from sleep, Lyra stared blankly into space for a while, confused. She remembered nodding off in the study yesterday, but everything after that was a complete blank.

This wasn’t surprising—learning etiquette alone from books was difficult enough, but the etiquette manual had been full of unfamiliar words and, honestly, boring enough to put her to sleep. She’d fallen asleep while looking up words in the dictionary.

A groan escaped her lips. Even clutching both sides of her head and trying her hardest to remember, nothing came back to her.

‘There’s no way I walked here by myself.’

Finally, she had no choice but to ask Hannah, who had come in to help her dress.

“Why am I… in my room?”

Naturally, Hannah responded with a face as puzzled as her own, saying she didn’t understand the question.

Lyra’s mind sank deeper into confusion. Then suddenly remembering she hadn’t put away the books, she rushed to the study.

But what was this? Not only were the books she’d taken out yesterday gone, but also all the ones she’d marked to read next had vanished. Now her distress took on a different dimension.

“I lost… them…”

Her legs, weak with shock, buckled beneath her. Lyra collapsed onto the plush carpet.

‘What happened?’

She couldn’t have eaten the books, nor thrown them out the window in her sleep. More than the sense of loss over the precious educational materials vanishing overnight, she felt overwhelming guilt at having lost the books through her carelessness.

This led to her attending breakfast with Kaylon in an anxious state.

Lifting a perfectly cooked, plump cod fillet, Kaylon asked casually,

“What’s wrong with your face?”

Lyra ran her hand over her face, unable to hide her expression. She awkwardly replied that it was nothing.

“You look like you’ve lost the world.”

“N-no, really, it’s nothing…”

She quickly closed her mouth. Though she felt she should tell him, the words wouldn’t come easily.

‘Let me look a bit more, then I’ll tell him.’

She thought if she considered it carefully, she might remember where she’d put them. No, she had to remember. As someone living off another’s charity, she had carelessly handled the master’s property—this was beyond serious.

Unaware of her internal turmoil, Kaylon gave a light, dismissive laugh and continued his meal.

And so continued a time that seemed peaceful but wasn’t. Lyra had to spend her days looking miserable, as if a heavy weight sat on her chest. It was only natural, since she couldn’t find the lost books despite searching the entire mansion.

Hannah, who later learned of her situation, tried to reassure her that they were just decorative books and not to worry, but Lyra couldn’t accept that. The only option left was to tell the master the truth and purchase replacement copies.

‘I did wrong, so it’s only natural to be scolded.’

So don’t be scared.

She was in the middle of explaining potato preparation to Letty when it happened. The sound of shoes on the waxed floor approached, and a rather irritable-looking man strode toward them, holding a file in one hand.

Now what? Letty and the busy maids hurriedly disappeared somewhere.

Lyra quietly watched the tall man walking straight toward her, unconsciously lowering her head. Despite his handsome features, he had a chilling presence.

Moreover, given that she’d done something wrong, she could hardly feel at ease.

“My lady.”

A slightly irritated voice called to her. Lyra reluctantly raised her head. Isaac, who had been looking down at her, pushed up his pince-nez and said matter-of-factly,

“His Grace is asking for you.”

Leaving just those words—regardless of how Lyra’s heart plummeted—he turned away. He even looked relieved, as if having completed his task. However, when Lyra remained motionless, he seemed to realize his oversight and added one more line in her direction.

“Follow me, please.”

Lyra had no choice but to move her feet.

* * *

Mrs. Beightle was thoroughly displeased. It was absurd enough being asked to chaperone someone at her age, approaching seventy, but his arrogant assumption that she would naturally accept was particularly grating.

Moreover, she was the one managing this historic mansion in place of a mistress, not someone meant to clean up after some ignorant woman. Yet there sat Kaylon, leisurely sipping his coffee.

Mrs. Beightle narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. If you truly need someone, perhaps look elsewhere.”

“You know there’s no one else suitable. Why are you being so negative?”

“I’ll say it again—I don’t like that woman. Just thinking about what the previous Duke would say about this makes me bolt upright in my sleep.”

“Wouldn’t that make it even less of an issue? The father I knew would have welcomed her with open arms.”

“…”

Mrs. Beightle pressed her lips together instead of responding. Though she’d brought up the previous Duke, she knew that this disregard for status matched perfectly with the former Duke of Lianton she had known.

How had the family come to this… She was starting to think the days when he frequented clubs, surrounded by alcohol and women, were better. At least then he knew to associate with people of his own class.

Even that lifestyle, though seemingly self-indulgent, had been part of society in a broader sense. After all, those were places discretely frequented by heirs of noble houses destined to lead the nation.

‘Yes, even that was better.’

Compared to this nonsensical situation, at least.

But he had abruptly stopped all that one day. Specifically, from the day the Duke of Lianton met his suspicious death.

‘Huu. Miguel’s death wasn’t his fault, and yet…’

A soft sigh escaped Mrs. Beightle’s lips. While she understood the tragedy, it pained her to see Kaylon obsessing over it, sacrificing his precious youth.

Then, a somewhat brusque voice broke through the elderly woman’s contemplation.

“Try directing some of that passion you spend on me toward her instead.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why pretend not to understand when you do?”

“…”

“Didn’t you say you had nothing to do in your old age?”

“Did I say such a thing?”

To think he would twist her words from a few days ago when she’d merely offered some advice. It was frustrating enough growing weak with age, but his audacity was something else. The elderly woman’s eyebrows twisted in displeasure.

“Then let’s do this. Teach her for a month, then decide.”

“…”

“If you want to continue after that, you can.”

“As if that would happen.”

Mrs. Beightle’s face contorted as the words left her mouth. So intent on objecting, she had inadvertently agreed to Kaylon’s suggestion.

Glancing aside, she caught him grinning mischievously.

‘How cunning.’

Just as she was clicking her tongue silently, there came a knock, and Isaac entered the reception room with Lyra.

Having missed her chance to leave, Mrs. Beightle carefully examined the terrified-looking woman. This being her first close encounter, her brown eyes moved quickly, taking in every detail.

“Say hello. This is your esteemed teacher who will be guiding you from now on.”

At Kaylon’s words, a startled Lyra awkwardly bent her head in a bow. Whether from fear or disbelief at having acquired a teacher, her demeanor was ambiguous.

“Learn basic etiquette from the madam. Despite appearances, she was quite renowned in society in her younger days.”

“Th-thank you, Your Grace. I look forward to… your guidance, madam.”