Chapter 26
The meetings were arranged in no time. Both men responded quickly, as if they’d been waiting for the invitation.
Aileen felt a slight pang of regret—thinking it would’ve been more productive to spend that time training—but when she saw the joy on her family’s faces, she quietly reassured herself she’d made the right choice.
“Aileen, have a good time,” the Duchess said warmly.
“Yes, Mother.”
“If he’s not worth your time, you can just walk out,” the Duke added.
Though if she really did that, rumors of rudeness would spread like wildfire.
Smiling reassuringly at the Duchess who had seen her off at the front entrance, Aileen stepped into the carriage. The moment the door closed, the interior was instantly filled with the scent of Karisha jasmine.
Ever since the day Carlisle brought Judith into the estate, Sera—fuming with rage—had dumped all the lavender petals that had filled Aileen’s bath for the past five years, replacing them with Karisha jasmine.
Maybe it was the new scent… but as the carriage jolted along, the first person to rise in her mind wasn’t Cesar—whom she was about to meet—but Carlisle.
“This is getting exhausting.”
It wasn’t that she wanted to think about him. It was just that everything she saw, everything around her, was tied to him. It couldn’t be helped.
Or maybe it was Sera’s words from earlier, while she helped Aileen get dressed.
“Please enjoy today, my lady! There are better men out there—more wonderful, more kind!”
She hadn’t said who she was comparing them to, but the implication was obvious. Sera, who practically bared her teeth at the mention of Carlisle, had been more excited than anyone about today.
Thinking about that, Aileen found herself wondering—
What would Carlisle’s face look like if he saw her sitting with another man… sharing tea, smiling, maybe even offering her hand?
There was a time she’d been desperate to know. When she hadn’t been sure if he liked her. When she’d hoped he would be just as jealous as she was.
She’d even entertained foolish ideas—just to see if he’d react.
But those thoughts didn’t last. She realized it would only hurt to see someone she loved in pain.
Back then, her dream of becoming Carlisle’s lover had just come true. She had loved him deeply—so much so that her feelings constantly overwhelmed her.
Thankfully, not long after, Carlisle began pouring endless affection into her. He was warm only to her. It had felt like she was the only flower blooming in a vast field that only he could see.
“…But that’s all in the past now.”
Muttering quietly, Aileen pushed the memories aside and focused her mind on the man she was about to meet.
The carriage came to a halt, and she stepped into an upscale café. The establishment had no open hall; each table was in a private room, and there weren’t many of them. It was a place reserved for nobles with wealth, name, and status.
As the door opened, Cesar Baté, who had been waiting inside, stood up immediately.
“Welcome, Lady Aileen of House Revart.”
With golden blond hair and clear blue eyes, Cesar lit up the room with a smile. He looked to be about the same height as Aileen, with soft features and dimples that appeared whenever he smiled.
“It’s a pleasure, Sir Cesar of House Baté.”
He was the eldest son of the Marquess of Baté, and though Aileen had heard he had been knighted, nothing about him looked like a swordsman. He gave off more of a polished, stylish vibe—someone more suited to playing instruments than wielding a sword.
And that first impression wasn’t wrong.
“I was so excited to meet you today, Lady Aileen. I even skipped lunch—what do you think? Did it pay off?”
Suddenly, Cesar leaned forward, wearing a bright, eager grin. Though it caught her off guard, Aileen kept her composure and responded calmly.
“You’ve made a very good first impression.”
“…Is that all?” he said with a mock-hurt expression. “I really tried to look my best for you today.”
With his eyebrows drooping, he gave off an exaggerated, melancholic air. Aileen was too taken aback to say anything in return.
Most of the men around her had been intense, cold, sarcastic, or just plain grumpy. But never… flamboyant.
Was “flamboyant” the right word? she wondered, staring blankly at the man in front of her, who clearly knew more about current fashion trends than she did and seemed more interested in grooming than she ever was.
Not that it was necessarily bad. Just… not what she had expected from a knight. The contrast threw her off.
The rest of the conversation was more of the same. Cesar—whom she had assumed would be mild and composed—spoke endlessly about his appearance and tried to charm her, while Aileen simply smiled and nodded here and there.
It was exhausting.
After finally parting ways with Cesar, Aileen let out a long, weary sigh. Rather than feeling encouraged about meeting someone new, she only felt more drained and disinterested.
But at least one thing had become clear: if she ever met someone else in the future, any man who talked that much or flirted in that manner would be disqualified immediately.
Dragging her tired body back home, she found her family already waiting for her in the entrance hall.
“How was it?” the Duke asked, hurrying over.
Behind him, the Duchess and Ashite stood tensely, watching her face.
“…I’m tired.”
Shaking her head slowly, Aileen passed by them. None of them dared to stop her.
They hadn’t expected much from Cesar anyway. The real one to watch was Jeron—the man who, most likely, already harbored feelings for Aileen.
A few days later, the Duchess arranged a meeting with Jeron, this time with both the Duke and Ashite personally seeing Aileen off at the entrance.
“That Jeron guy might look a bit frail, but he’s a good kid,” Ashite said.
“And what about it?”
“Just saying.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, but I think even if he’s a bit scrawny, he’s better than you.”
“You do realize Jeron only looks tough, right?”
“And you? You only look pretty and can’t even hold a proper conversation.”
“Why you—!”
Furrowing his brows, Ashite lunged forward threateningly, but Aileen quickly slipped away and hopped into the carriage. From outside the door, she could still hear him shouting something, but she ignored it and tapped the carriage to start moving.
Thanks to Ashite’s antics, her tension eased a little. As her nerves settled, thoughts of Jeron—not Cesar—began bubbling up like drops of water.
Cesar had already dampened her enthusiasm once, so she didn’t expect much now. But curiosity remained.
“Jeron Diar…”
It was surprising, really. Ashite, who wouldn’t even spare a second glance at someone unless they were a knight, had—though reluctantly—admitted something positive about Jeron. That alone was enough to make her wonder.
Just how decent a man must he be for even Ashite to acknowledge him, however begrudgingly?
With that small curiosity slowly growing, Aileen stepped out of the carriage—and instinctively flinched in surprise.
“It’s been a while, Lady Aileen of House Revart.”
Jeron was standing right in front of the carriage door, unlike Cesar who had waited inside. Just how long had he been standing there?
Masking her surprise, Aileen carefully extended her hand, allowing him to escort her.
“It has been a while, Lord Jeron Diar.”
Jeron, who had been unable to take his eyes off her gentle smile, snapped out of his daze only after she slightly tightened her grip.
“Ah—my apologies. Shall we?”
The meeting was held at the same café where she had seen Cesar. Aileen sat down comfortably and ordered tea. Jeron followed her lead and ordered the same.
Finally seated, Aileen was able to properly observe him. From what she recalled, his hair had once brushed against his forehead. But now, his haircut was shorter, lending him a more masculine appearance.
“Did you have a pleasant journey?”
“Yes, I did.”
His pale blue eyes gleamed gently, and a quiet smile played at the corners of his lips.
“It feels a bit strange to speak alone like this. I’m rather nervous.”
With skin sun-kissed like a knight who had spent many hours under the sun, Jeron scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. His bashful demeanor reminded Aileen of the polite nods and shy greetings he used to give her at parties. It felt oddly familiar.
“How is life in the knights’ order?”
“It’s going well.”
“I thought so. I had no doubt Lady Revart would adapt quickly—you’re incredibly capable, after all.”
His shy gaze slowly sharpened with admiration. Aileen smiled modestly.
“That’s really not the case.”
“I’ve heard how difficult it is to join the Imperial Knights and how grueling the training is. And you overcame physical disadvantages, too. They say you’ve already defeated other knights in sparring. That’s truly impressive.”
At first, when Jeron escorted her from the carriage, he had spoken almost under his breath. But now, his voice gradually grew louder—like a quiet child suddenly coming to life when talking about something he loves.
He looked like someone who could wrestle a bear with ease, but rumor had it he wouldn’t even hurt a fly. He was said to be clumsy with anything physical, but a genius when it came to paperwork and numbers.
They had only exchanged polite greetings at parties before—never a proper conversation. Aileen had even heard he wasn’t much of a talker, so she came in expecting to carry most of the conversation herself.
But this? This was unexpected. And a little overwhelming.
The constant compliments made her feel awkward, and in the meantime, the waiter brought their tea. She took a small sip, using the moment to collect herself.
Even as she drank, Jeron kept praising her. His voice, expression, and words—none of it ever sharp or blunt. Everything about him felt genuinely kind. It seemed that gentleness was simply part of his nature—unlike someone else she used to know.
As Jeron’s endless stream of compliments continued, Aileen decided it was time to steer the conversation the other way. It was time to hear more about him.
