Chapter 11
Time passed quickly, and on a certain day in May, when the scent of spring was thick in the air, a grand party was held at the Vansen Count’s mansion.
Guests began to take their seats at the outdoor table decorated with colorful lavender.
The Count and Countess busily moved between the elegantly entwined white roses and climbing plants in the gazebo, making every effort to exchange a few words with the distinguished guests from the political and social circles of the Müller Kingdom.
Among the diverse crowd of people with various professions, nationalities, and ethnicities, officers in military uniforms joyfully clinked their champagne glasses together.
Despite the sudden engagement ceremony, the number of attendees was impressive. The influence of Duke Rockford was indeed far beyond what Hermia had imagined.
As Hermia surveyed all these scenes, she felt somewhat detached from reality. It was as if she were standing on a cloud or perhaps dreaming.
Was it really true that she was getting engaged to such an extraordinary person? Would she wake up to see the worn ceiling of that dreadful little cabin?
Lost in such doubts, she didn’t even notice someone approaching her.
“Are your feet hurting?”
“…….”
“Hermia.”
“…….”
“…Hermia?”
When she looked up, the most unreal man was gazing down at her. Hermia was startled and waved both hands.
“No, it doesn’t hurt. I’m fine.”
“Your shoes look small.”
Only then did Hermia return to reality and glance down at her feet.
Underneath her soft sky-blue bell line dress, familiar pain had accumulated. She had completely forgotten about it.
It was normal for her feet to hurt. The women’s shoes in the mansion were all tailored to fit the Countess’s foot size.
Since she had always worn small shoes whenever going out, she hadn’t been aware of it until Walter mentioned it.
“Well, um…”
When she first arrived at the Count’s residence, her foot size matched her stepmother’s, so she hadn’t bought any shoes separately. The shoes that had been worn a few times by her stepmother became hers by default.
As she grew taller, she inevitably had to buy a separate dress for outings; unfortunately, shoes weren’t included in that necessity.
What did they say? It wasn’t worth buying new shoes since they wouldn’t be visible for long and she wouldn’t be standing for much time anyway—something along those lines.
As a result, it was common for her to wear shoes that crumpled at the toes after bending them repeatedly.
But now Walter had seen those misshapen shoes. Blood rushed to her face in an instant.
“You… saw that?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to look. It was just a coincidence…”
Was this man now trying to act all embarrassed after noticing?
Walter quickly turned his head away and cleared his throat.
What’s this? He’s surprisingly cute for his size… Don’t get excited! Get a grip!
At that moment, a couple approached them. Walter and Hermia simultaneously greeted the guests as if nothing had happened.
After several pleasantries were exchanged, another group approached them before they could continue their conversation. This time, they were cadets from the military academy.
The cadets saluted Walter with respect and nervousness on their faces.
“Congratulations on your engagement, Colonel Rockford!”
“Congratulations!”
“Colonel? Just call me Senior.”
Walter spoke in a softer tone than when addressing other guests as he patted the shoulders of his junior cadets in their blue uniforms.
‘Why am I feeling so proud watching this?’
Hermia shook off her thoughts and smiled naturally while bending her knees slightly. She felt as if the Duke’s gaze was constantly upon her but dismissed it as just her imagination.
Once the young cadets moved to their designated seats, there was a brief moment of respite. Seizing this opportunity, Walter resumed their earlier conversation.
“There’s still a long way until the party ends. It would be better to change your shoes.”
“I’m really fine. They’re not as uncomfortable as they look.”
In fact, there was nothing else to change into. Since her shoes would be visible while walking, she couldn’t wear slippers either.
As she thought this internally, Walter raised his hand. Henry approached swiftly and exhibited his previous supernatural abilities again.
“I’ll prepare them right away. Size… probably around 5. To be safe, I’ll bring sizes 4.5 and 5.5 as well…”
“No, no! Size 5 is correct.”
Hermia blurted out in flustered surprise. After nodding briefly, Henry shot a glance at his subordinate, who then gestured for another subordinate to go fetch something.
Seeing one of the lowest-ranking soldiers run off hurriedly made her feel slightly guilty.
“I’m really fine…”
“If you wear ill-fitting shoes, it can strain your joints and eventually misalign your pelvis. If left unattended…”
“Ah, I understand.”
Whether he was a soldier or a doctor didn’t matter; she quickly replied to avoid any complicated explanations from him.
She couldn’t very well call back someone who had already left; since it was what the Duke said, she felt compelled to accept it.
“But how did he guess my size right away?”
“You’re talking about Henry? When we were stationed together, he handled supplies for our unit. He can probably guess clothing sizes just by looking at someone’s height.”
As she quietly accepted this explanation and nodded along, the sound of a teaspoon tapping against a glass echoed through the air—it was Count Arnold.
“It seems everyone has gathered; let’s proceed with the ceremony.”
At that moment, Hermia felt tense and took a deep breath before placing her hand on Walter’s arm and walking toward the podium.
Despite not putting much weight on them, remarkably, Hermia felt no discomfort in her shoes.
Soon, the musicians invited for the evening began tuning their violins and preparing to play.
The sight of renowned musicians performing a birthday celebration song in the cramped corner of the stage made her feel embarrassed again.
They probably thought they were playing for the Duke’s engagement ceremony; they had no idea they were performing for an unknown Countess’s birthday.
‘They likely didn’t hear about the birthday party when they were commissioned. I apologize in advance. I’m sorry.’
As the majestic performance concluded, the front door of the mansion opened, revealing a massive birthday cake. People turned their heads simultaneously.
Not only was it large, but the message written in pink frosting was also outrageous.
[Happy Birthday. My Last Love, Olivia Vansen!]
The rectangular cake was so large that the letters could be seen from the neighboring windows. Hermia screamed internally.
‘Last love?’ Is this a roundabout way of saying, ‘Although you are not my first love’?
Am I the only one feeling strange? She scanned the audience with a flustered face and caught eyes with others who seemed to share her thoughts. Ha ha… damn it.
Next, a cute two-tier wedding cake followed behind like a little puppy.
[Congratulations! Engagement]
Compared to the grand and foolishly romantic birthday cake, Walter and Hermia’s engagement cake appeared plain and even sparse.
The Countess, making an effort to let the birthday girl feel like the center of attention, was now strangely admirable.
After finishing her pure admiration, Hermia unconsciously glanced at Walter. Feeling her gaze, he lowered his head, and she quickly turned her eyes forward.
Walter, who had been observing her profile for a moment, quietly spoke as he faced forward again.
“I’ll make sure the cake at our wedding is even bigger than that one.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What then?”
I want to run over there and flip everything upside down at my engagement ceremony. How can I say something like that?
Seeing the Count and Countess sharing a bread knife to cut the cake made her confused about whether this was her engagement or their twilight wedding.
Hermia swallowed a bitter smile and decided to express her feelings differently—using noble speech.
Though she didn’t usually use or like it, there was nothing more useful than this when she wanted to insult someone.
“Such a true example of parents setting a good example for their children about marriage…” she said, her tone subtly laced with sarcasm.
“I see. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“……?”
Did he understand? What does he mean by keeping it in mind?
That expressionless face makes it seem like it will take some time to adapt.
As Hermia rubbed her nose, she began to hide her slightly twitching lips.
‘But… does that mean he really wants to marry me?’
With him suggesting buying new shoes and talking about weddings, even someone as oblivious as him should be able to pick up on this much, right?
The Duke didn’t seem to dislike me. Perhaps there was even some affection.
Although the line between manners and affection was blurry, at least he didn’t seem to harbor any visible disdain for her commoner origins.
Just this alone was honestly an incredible stroke of luck.
‘Alright. Let’s move forward with this wedding and, hopefully, a peaceful divorce afterward.’
Just as she resolved herself, the peaceful atmosphere shattered abruptly due to an unexpected intruder.
“This is ridiculous!”
A maid burst through the open front door and shouted toward those in the garden. Hermia froze with a smile still on her face.
‘Why is she suddenly coming out…?’
Reflected in her eyes was none other than Mel Greenwood, with tears streaming down her face as she gasped for breath.
Somehow finding strength, Mel pushed through the surrounding servants and stormed up to the stage with angry steps.
All eyes turned to her as she reached the stage and, with all her might, threw the wedding cake into the air.
Clenching her cream-covered fists tightly, she suddenly began crying like a child.
“It’s all fake! The wedding… it was always supposed to be me…”
With a sorrowful and unjust expression, Mel looked toward them. No, her gaze was fixed precisely on Walter, who stood next to Hermia.
“Walter.”
“…….”
At the casual call of his name, Hermia lifted her head. Her fiancé stared blankly at Mel.
What kind of situation is this? It felt as if time had stopped for an instant as she couldn’t keep up with what was happening before her eyes.
She turned her gaze back toward Mel.
“Waaah! Walter…!”
As Mel walked toward them, she slipped on cream that had fallen on the floor. The scene of her body leaning backward appeared painfully slow in Hermia’s eyes.
“Melissa.”
In an instant, Walter dashed forward without hesitation.
