Chapter 33
‘She didn’t come even after I sent an invitation. Did the Marquis forbid her?’
There were rumors she wasn’t feeling well, but that seemed like an excuse. It was shocking that someone had put a snake in the picnic basket—she could be so reckless. Not seeing her made Cassian even more anxious. He wanted to watch her carefully to see what she might do next.
At that moment, a red-haired girl approached. She was Count Rosen’s daughter, Vivian, a couple of years older than Damia.
“You smell so nice, Damia!”
“Perfume?” Vivian asked.
“No, just soap,” Damia replied, showing a small lace pouch with a flower-shaped soap inside.
“Wow! It’s beautiful!”
Other girls, who were normally part of Drury’s group, gathered around to see.
“My friend from Rodion Kingdom sent it,” Damia explained. “I had a maid shape it. The scent is so nice I wanted to carry it with me.”
The girls were amazed. It was hand-made, rare, and new. Damia gave out a few pouches to the closest girls, saving the rest for later.
“Does Cassian like this scent?” Vivian asked curiously.
Damia imagined Cassian would never approve, but it was fun to think about.
Suddenly, Cassian appeared quietly right in front of her. Everyone around them froze.
“Cassian! It’s the last tea party of the year!” Vivian said.
“Summer comes again,” he replied, distracted.
Damia noticed how Cassian and Vivian seemed to get along, but she focused on staying out of trouble.
Damia pretended to get a drink and stepped back slightly. She had already given out the soap, so she felt her job was done.
Just then, an unknown young noble blocked her way. He was timid and weak-looking, not impressive enough to meet Damia’s standards.
“Where are you going?” Cassian called, stopping her. Somehow, he had been watching her all along.
“I was just going to rest near the lake,” Damia said, making an excuse.
“I’ll take you there,” Cassian said, stepping forward. He extended his arm naturally, expecting her to take it.
“Let’s go. I’m tired too,” he added.
Damia reluctantly placed her hand on his arm. Cassian’s lips curved slightly, though he didn’t say it.
The late summer sun was bright. A cool breeze scattered Damia’s silver hair, making it shine like the lake.
“Shall we sit?” she asked, brushing her skirt. Cassian quickly blocked her and laid out a handkerchief in the shade.
“Thank you,” Damia said, smiling. Cassian felt a flutter in his chest.
“Don’t misunderstand,” he muttered.
“I know, it’s just your duty as a fiancé,” she said.
Cassian admitted he was worried about her dress—it was expensive. He realized he had said it awkwardly, and Damia, instead of being upset, laughed.
“You said you have something to tell me?” she asked, settling on the handkerchief.
“Don’t object to the privacy clause,” Cassian reminded her.
“Of course not. Please sit, Marquis,” Damia said. They sat close together, shoulders almost touching.
“Why bring up the clause now? To compliment me?”
“…What do you mean?”
“I just moved aside earlier, subtly,” she teased.
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
The fresh scent around Damia distracted Cassian, reminding him of the soap she had shown earlier.
“You didn’t need to step back,” he said sincerely.
“Really?” she asked, confused.
“Just don’t overdo it. Enough to avoid trouble,” he reassured her.
Damia tilted her head, still unsure what he meant.
