Chapter 23
Aside from her private conversation with Edys, the day had been fairly ordinary—yet Aileen felt completely drained. After returning home, she dragged her feet to the dining room and quietly ate dinner alone.
Once she had taken the edge off her hunger, drowsiness swept over her. She decided she’d go to bed early tonight.
If she was going to keep up with the increasingly demanding schedule ahead, she needed to stay in peak condition. But her resolve shattered in less than five minutes.
“Aileen, my lady.”
Just as she neared her room, Hilter quietly called out to her from behind. Lost in her thoughts, Aileen jumped in surprise and clutched her chest.
“What is it, Hilter?”
Though she was eager to rest, she knew better than anyone that Hilter wasn’t the type to stop her without good reason. So, she asked about the matter.
With a slight bow, Hilter expressed his regret and delivered the message from the Duke of Revart.
“His Grace, Her Ladyship, and Young Master Ashite would like to see you.”
It wasn’t unusual for the four of them to gather, but something about this summons sent a chill down her spine. If they were calling her like this…
Feeling a strange sense of foreboding, Aileen quickened her pace.
“You’re here.”
The Duke of Revart greeted her warmly as she entered. Normally, Ashite would have chimed in enthusiastically as well, but today, he remained quiet.
Sensing something odd, Aileen instinctively sat to Ashite’s left—slowly, cautiously.
“What’s this about?”
At her question, the duke, who sat across from her, cleared his throat and gestured toward the tea on the table.
“Ahem. First, have some tea, daughter.”
She wasn’t especially thirsty, but she obediently took a sip.
“Now, could you please tell me why I’ve been called here? I was planning to get some rest tonight.”
“Oh? Why?” Ashite asked abruptly.
“It’s not a big deal. As you know, the swordsmanship tournament was announced today, so I decided to focus more on training.”
“You don’t need to enter that. Don’t go.”
“Why not?”
“It’s no fun, and the competitors are all bad-tempered. You could get hurt.”
“If you keep saying that, I’ll beat you myself in the tournament.”
“……”
Ashite, who had been leaning comfortably in his chair with a stern expression, slouched in defeat at her threat.
Part of it was that her cold remark had hurt his feelings—he cherished his sister more than anyone. But the truth was, Aileen’s skill with the sword rivaled his own. Perhaps even exceeded it.
Still, Ashite had always hesitated to spar with her. He couldn’t stand the idea of his precious sister getting hurt, so they had never tested their skills against each other in any official capacity.
Even if she was the better swordsman, Ashite wasn’t petty enough to feel inferior. And regardless of skill, he was still the one set to inherit the dukedom. No one in the family had ever worried that their bond would be shaken by rivalry.
“Alright, enough. Both of you,” the Duchess intervened, trying to mediate. Unusually, her voice trailed off mid-sentence. It was rare enough that Aileen felt another chill run down her spine.
“Seriously… what is this about? Why are you all acting like this?”
Pressed by her question, the Duke shut his eyes tightly, then reached behind him and pulled out a thick bundle of papers.
“Take a look at this first, daughter.”
“What is it?”
No answer came—only silence filled the room. Aileen, now uneasy, took the documents from him and slowly flipped to the first page. It read:
[Deren Vaness. Eldest son of the Marquess of Vaness. Height…]
She didn’t even need to finish the sentence—she understood instantly. Instead of continuing to read, she looked up.
“You’ve been more active lately,” the Duke began, sweat glistening on his forehead. “And you seem to have regained some of your energy…”
The Duchess, who had been pressing her lips together in silence, finally spoke up.
“We’re not asking you to meet them all. Just two. Just meet two of them. If you do, we won’t pressure you to attend the party we mentioned earlier.”
The party. She’d completely forgotten about it.
Unfortunately, the memory of it brought back something she’d rather not recall. Because of that party, she’d visited Madame Kiroé’s atelier for a dress… and came back with nothing but unpleasant memories.
Aileen glanced between her parents. Their expressions were filled with quiet hope and concern.
She had no desire to meet anyone—none whatsoever. But her parents, who had supported her so silently and consistently, had lingered in her thoughts like thorns in her chest.
They were afraid that she might still be suffering—that the wound Carlisle left behind might drive her to dark places. Even now, they watched over her from afar, quietly and discreetly. She had seemed to regain her old self since joining the knight order, but the surface wasn’t always the whole truth.
“Hm…”
Aileen deliberately hesitated, pretending to consider it seriously.
If she simply met them and let nothing come of it, the only thing she’d lose was time. And even if her time was wasted, her family might finally feel a little relieved.
“The best way to forget someone is to meet someone new.”
Growing impatient, Ashite chimed in again. Aileen erased the somber look from her face and let out a light scoff.
“Not exactly the kind of advice I want from someone who’s never even had a girlfriend.”
“You little—”
Ashite’s face twisted immediately.
“Why are you getting upset? I was just stating the truth.”
“……”
“I’m joking.”
Aileen smiled teasingly. Ashite was always fun to mess with.
No matter how bad people said his personality was, there were countless women who had fallen for his handsome face. But perhaps because of the attention he’d received since childhood, Ashite tended to instinctively keep his distance from women.
The Duke and Duchess had their concerns about their heir, but they knew his aversion well and had long since decided to let him handle things his way. Even his closest friend, Siran, was still single.
“I just haven’t found the right woman, that’s all. And I’m not dating anyone until you meet someone decent first.”
Ashite muttered his declaration, clearly annoyed. Aileen simply brushed him off and turned her attention back to the documents. His words had been completely ignored, and his face turned into that of a sulky rabbit.
Aileen hadn’t known many noblemen personally—her focus had been on Carlisle for so long. Still, she had heard plenty of rumors.
“Kales has sticky fingers.”
“Dino got caught dating three people at once.”
“Baylor’s kind and sweet, but at night… well…”
There were plenty of familiar names, but as she skimmed through the pages, none of the scandalous ones appeared. It seemed the candidates had already been carefully screened.
The silence in the room grew heavier, laced with a hint of tension. Only the soft rustling of turning pages filled the space. Without pausing her movements, Aileen spoke softly.
“Alright.”
“Really?!”
“You’re serious?!”
No one had expected her to say yes. They had assumed she’d refuse—called her in hoping for a miracle at best. But the ease of her acceptance took all three of them by surprise.
The Duke and Ashite both shot up from their seats like springs, faces full of shock. Aileen glanced at them, unfazed, and calmly addressed the Duchess.
“Yes. But I’m not going to the party. And I’ll only meet two people. No more.”
“Of course.”
The Duchess smiled and finally took a sip of the tea she had been holding the entire time. Aileen continued flipping through the papers, pretending not to notice how focused the three of them were on her.
“This one’s too young… and I don’t like this one.”
Flip. As soon as she saw the portrait, she turned the page. Watching her seriously consider each candidate, Ashite asked curiously,
“What’s wrong with that guy? He’s good-looking.”
“Oh, he’s my friend Retta’s ex. I heard his… tastes are kind of questionable.”
Since her parents were right there, she spoke vaguely. But Ashite, as usual, was clueless and asked again,
“Tastes? What do you mean? You can just adjust to them, right?”
“…I don’t know.”
“That’s weird.”
Aileen pushed his face aside with her palm and went on flipping through the papers.
Then suddenly, one portrait brought back an unwelcome memory—one that blurred across her vision like a shadow from the past.
When was the last time she had woken up in Carlisle’s arms?
Carlisle had always stayed by her side until she opened her eyes. He’d hold her tightly, like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go.
Because of that, not once had she woken up to an empty, cold bed.
That was the kind of man he had been. But the last time they were together…
“He looked… startled.”
“What?”
She had muttered the words without meaning to. Snapping back to herself, Aileen quickly shook her head.
“It’s nothing. I need to focus. Can you all just… talk over there? It’s hard to choose with everyone staring at me.”
“Tch.”
Ashite grumbled but leaned away, giving her space. Aileen stared at the documents again, pretending to focus, while her thoughts drifted.
Carlisle had always put her first. He paid attention to the smallest signs—checking if she was sick, tired, or even slightly off. Sometimes she would frown on purpose, just to catch his concerned gaze.
His calm, deep-blue eyes would occasionally flicker with heat, and every time they did, her heart would skip a beat—like they had just fallen in love. And when he looked up at her from below, his messy, sweat-dampened hair, softened eyes, and those broad shoulders and strong arms…
Her heart had nearly burst.
The more time she spent with him, the deeper she had fallen. She loved sharing warmth with him. And she knew—it had been the same for Carlisle, too.
