“Quickly, we must make our way there,” the urgency in the coachman’s voice became apparent as he implored the winter person to move faster. The furrowed brow of the winter person betrayed his confusion. “But we have our own carriage?” he asked, puzzled.
The coachman shook his head, “How can you step on the Duke’s territory with a carriage that smells like the Acid?”
Did he think they would go on a baggage carriage? And even if it was a baggage carriage, what about the smell? The winter person was getting annoyed. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their conversation. It was Aden.
“What’s going on?”
The winter person began to stutter, trying to address him properly, “Y-Your Highness.”
“Ah, it’s the person who was supposed to attend the party.” The coachman looked around, searching for Ilyin. It was not a courteous action, and Ilyin was still asleep, most likely exhausted.
“Perhaps your master is well aware of the situation with Acid,” the coachman spoke with an air of arrogance. Aden crossed his arms, making it clear that he did not want to hear it here.
“I have been ordered to prepare a carriage so that the guest will not have any difficulties. We will wait until you are ready, so please take your time preparing and come down slowly.”
Even if Ilyin had never made her debut in high society, she would have found it unpleasant if she had heard it. Nobles’ parties did not start until the afternoon, and arriving this early was a clear sign of disrespect towards the guest of honor. The more important the person, the later they would arrive at the party.
Aden’s voice cut through the air like a cold wind, “There will be no trouble, so leave.”
The coachman was taken aback. He had spent his whole life serving his superiors, and as such, had become familiar with the language of the nobility. They were people who had no qualms about giving orders and didn’t experience any discomfort doing so. Their language was fundamentally different from the relatively freer language spoken by those of lower status. The coachman instinctively picked up a familiarity from the words of the man named ‘Den’ in front of him.
“…But you cannot enter with Acid’s carriage,” the coachman repeated, still convinced that the authority of Lord Leon would outweigh that of this unknown person. However, Aden merely smiled, his lips curling upwards in amusement.
“However we choose to arrive, we will take full responsibility for it. Lord Leon need not concern himself,” Aden said, turning his body as a clear signal of departure.
The coachman’s muttering voice could be heard in the background, his disbelief palpable. “No matter what embarrassment you may face, it’s none of our concern!” he spat out.
Aden’s smile only grew wider as he heard the coachman’s words. It was actually Lord Leon who needed to realize the gravity of what they had done. Delrose never forgets a debt.
***
“Do you plan on using the Biflten carriage?”
“Yes,” Aden replied.
Ilyin’s heart skipped a beat. Her mind raced, replaying the commotion from earlier that morning, and the weight of their decision settled heavily upon her. Aden, however, seemed unfazed, pouring himself tea with practiced ease. Despite his attempt at refinement, Ilyin could see the discomfort etched on his face as he sipped the unfamiliar brew.
As she gazed at Aden’s endearing expression, Ilyin’s thoughts became tangled. She knew their intention all along, having been present when Aden gave the order to reveal Biflten under the sun, but she hadn’t expected them to be so bold.
Of course, they couldn’t make use of the carriage emblazoned with the Acid crest, for it would be unwelcome at the event. And who knew, the Duke of Leon might have been scheming to trap them with it.
Gossip traveled fast in high society, and the buzz surrounding them was deafening. Whispers suggested they were in dire straits, reduced to relying on the Duke of Leon for transportation. It was a commoner move, some snickered.
The Duke of Leon had woefully misconstrued the situation. His two critical errors were: failing to recognize Aden’s true identity, and underestimating the guests’ knowledge of social norms. Though the first mistake was inevitable, the second was inexcusable.
As Ilyin pondered these misjudgments, she realized that her father would also be attending the party.
This information may have come from her estranged father himself. It seemed that the viscount was entirely clueless about his daughter, a reality Ilyin had already experienced firsthand during their last meeting under the name of ‘El’ and through his previous letter. Did he presume her ignorant of proper etiquette because she had yet to make her debut in society? Or, was he willfully indifferent to her existence?
“Quickly, we must make our way there,” the urgency in the coachman’s voice became apparent as he implored the winter person to move faster. The furrowed brow of the winter person betrayed his confusion. “But we have our own carriage?” he asked, puzzled.
The coachman shook his head, “How can you step on the Duke’s territory with a carriage that smells like the Acid?”
Did he think they would go on a baggage carriage? And even if it was a baggage carriage, what about the smell? The winter person was getting annoyed. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their conversation. It was Aden.
“What’s going on?”
The winter person began to stutter, trying to address him properly, “Y-Your Highness.”
“Ah, it’s the person who was supposed to attend the party.” The coachman looked around, searching for Ilyin. It was not a courteous action, and Ilyin was still asleep, most likely exhausted.
“Perhaps your master is well aware of the situation with Acid,” the coachman spoke with an air of arrogance. Aden crossed his arms, making it clear that he did not want to hear it here.
“I have been ordered to prepare a carriage so that the guest will not have any difficulties. We will wait until you are ready, so please take your time preparing and come down slowly.”
Even if Ilyin had never made her debut in high society, she would have found it unpleasant if she had heard it. Nobles’ parties did not start until the afternoon, and arriving this early was a clear sign of disrespect towards the guest of honor. The more important the person, the later they would arrive at the party.
Aden’s voice cut through the air like a cold wind, “There will be no trouble, so leave.”
The coachman was taken aback. He had spent his whole life serving his superiors, and as such, had become familiar with the language of the nobility. They were people who had no qualms about giving orders and didn’t experience any discomfort doing so. Their language was fundamentally different from the relatively freer language spoken by those of lower status. The coachman instinctively picked up a familiarity from the words of the man named ‘Den’ in front of him.
“…But you cannot enter with Acid’s carriage,” the coachman repeated, still convinced that the authority of Lord Leon would outweigh that of this unknown person. However, Aden merely smiled, his lips curling upwards in amusement.
“However we choose to arrive, we will take full responsibility for it. Lord Leon need not concern himself,” Aden said, turning his body as a clear signal of departure.
The coachman’s muttering voice could be heard in the background, his disbelief palpable. “No matter what embarrassment you may face, it’s none of our concern!” he spat out.
Aden’s smile only grew wider as he heard the coachman’s words. It was actually Lord Leon who needed to realize the gravity of what they had done. Delrose never forgets a debt.
***
“Do you plan on using the Biflten carriage?”
“Yes,” Aden replied.
Ilyin’s heart skipped a beat. Her mind raced, replaying the commotion from earlier that morning, and the weight of their decision settled heavily upon her. Aden, however, seemed unfazed, pouring himself tea with practiced ease. Despite his attempt at refinement, Ilyin could see the discomfort etched on his face as he sipped the unfamiliar brew.
As she gazed at Aden’s endearing expression, Ilyin’s thoughts became tangled. She knew their intention all along, having been present when Aden gave the order to reveal Biflten under the sun, but she hadn’t expected them to be so bold.
Of course, they couldn’t make use of the carriage emblazoned with the Acid crest, for it would be unwelcome at the event. And who knew, the Duke of Leon might have been scheming to trap them with it.
Gossip traveled fast in high society, and the buzz surrounding them was deafening. Whispers suggested they were in dire straits, reduced to relying on the Duke of Leon for transportation. It was a commoner move, some snickered.
The Duke of Leon had woefully misconstrued the situation. His two critical errors were: failing to recognize Aden’s true identity, and underestimating the guests’ knowledge of social norms. Though the first mistake was inevitable, the second was inexcusable.
As Ilyin pondered these misjudgments, she realized that her father would also be attending the party.
This information may have come from her estranged father himself. It seemed that the viscount was entirely clueless about his daughter, a reality Ilyin had already experienced firsthand during their last meeting under the name of ‘El’ and through his previous letter. Did he presume her ignorant of proper etiquette because she had yet to make her debut in society? Or, was he willfully indifferent to her existence?
