TFCMD~08

Chapter 8

She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened.

At the very least, she needed to thank him. Otherwise, it would continue to weigh on her mind.

After spending hours wondering what to say and how to say it, Lorren finally rose from her seat well past midnight. Throwing a shawl over her nightdress, she stepped out of her room.

For some reason, the walk toward Astor’s study felt unusually heavy.

She walked through the dark corridor until she reached the large doors.

A faint light flickered in her pale lavender eyes as she stared at them.

Would Astor still be in there this late?

Lorren pressed her lips together.

I’ll just knock. If there’s no answer, I’ll go back.

After hesitating for a long while, she finally raised her hand and knocked softly.

No response came.

Lorren sighed quietly and turned to leave—

“Come in.”

The low voice reached her a moment too late.

She froze.

She had assumed he had already left his study.

Before she could even touch the handle, the door opened on its own.

The room beyond was dark, just like the corridor.

Lorren’s eyes widened.

A man with snow-white hair stood there, looking down at her with crimson eyes.

His gaze reminded her of a white rabbit.

Or the garnet hanging from her bracelet.

He stepped aside and tilted his head slightly, inviting her in.

His face was beautiful enough to belong in mythology—a boy born from legends—but his expression was so empty he resembled a carefully crafted doll.

Staring too long would be rude.

Lorren quickly looked away.

Astor sat leaning against a long sofa, watching her with a slight frown.

“You may go, Garnet. Handle the rest as usual.”

So that’s Garnet.

The white-haired man bowed respectfully to Astor and left without a word.

The attitude he showed Astor was entirely different from the one he had shown her.

“Sit.”

Astor’s command was short.

He didn’t ask why she had come.

Lorren sat carefully on the long sofa while watching him.

Astor walked to the cabinet, took out another glass, gathered the bottle and the existing glass from his desk, and carried them to the low table himself.

Then he sat opposite her.

“Are you alright with alcohol?”

“A little.”

He nodded.

He poured two glasses.

One less than half full.

The other, far beyond halfway.

Naturally, the smaller glass was placed in front of Lorren.

Leaning back against the sofa, Astor lifted his own glass slightly before drinking.

“Isn’t that a bit much?”

She hadn’t meant to nag.

The words just slipped out.

Probably habit.

Lorren bit the inside of her lip.

Her father used to drink in his office too.

And every time, she had scolded him.

Astor’s green eyes watched her over the rim of his glass.

That was unnecessary.

Avoiding his gaze, Lorren quickly picked up her own drink.

The moment the golden liquid touched her tongue, sharp alcohol burned across it.

It was far stronger than she expected.

She coughed.

Astor laughed quietly.

He drinks this much of something this strong?

Lorren narrowed her eyes.

A faint smile remained at the corner of Astor’s lips as his gaze lowered to his glass.

“It started on the battlefield.”

Lorren immediately fell silent.

Even in the beautiful Siaz territory, soldiers recovering from war had come to recuperate.

As the lord’s daughter, she had visited them.

Talked with them.

Learned.

War did not end when the fighting stopped.

Blood.

Screams.

Pain.

The memories stayed.

Some still remembered burning enemies alive.

Others remembered being burned.

The pain remained for years.

Astor had fought on the front lines.

No matter how strong someone was, memories like that could not simply disappear.

Maybe he drank because he wanted to forget.

I shouldn’t have said anything.

She pressed her lips together.

“I didn’t say that so you’d make that face.”

“…Right.”

But while Astor looked faintly amused, Lorren’s expression stayed stiff.

Idiot.

She gripped the glass with both hands and drank deeply.

One of Astor’s eyebrows rose.

She didn’t notice.

“So. Why are you here?”

Leaning deeper into the sofa, Astor looked at her.

Lorren made a small sound.

Right.

She had something to say.

Straightening her back, she inhaled deeply.

“The people from Aloria Atelier came today.”

“I heard. Did you like the clothes?”

“Yes. They were beautiful.”

In truth, she had never cared much about clothes.

As long as they were comfortable, that was enough.

But that wasn’t important.

Lorren looked directly at him.

Astor tilted his head slightly.

He had noticed there was more.

“And… thank you for being considerate.”

Lorren bowed deeply.

She knew words alone couldn’t fully express it.

Still—

She wanted him to understand.

Her fingers tightened around the glass.

The Astor she had met was nothing like the rumors.

Not a heartless war machine.

Not a murderer.

He drank to forget painful memories.

He laughed.

He was human.

And when he smiled—

He looked beautiful.

Someone who smiled like that couldn’t casually kill people.

At least, that was what she believed.

“I don’t know how to thank you properly. If there’s anything I can do in return… I’ll do it.”

The jewels she had nearly sold to survive had not merely been jewels.

They were proof that her parents had loved her.

Proof that they had existed.

She had thought selling them was acceptable.

Her parents would have wanted her alive rather than sold to some old man and forced into childbirth until she died.

They had always indulged her complaints.

Listened when she said she hated social gatherings.

Supported her when she said she wanted to work.

So she thought it was fine.

But it wasn’t.

Only after getting them back did she realize.

Those jewels had been memories.

Layer upon layer of memories.

Astor must have known that.

That was why he returned them.

“…Anything?”

His voice came out strangely stiff.

Lorren looked up.

His brows were deeply furrowed.

He’s not going to ask for something ridiculous, is he?

He didn’t seem like that kind of person.

He drank silently.

Thinking.

Deeply.

Was it really something worth thinking this hard about?

Without realizing it, she drank too.

The alcohol smelled faintly of fruit and smoke.

Strong enough to make her head spin.

Strong enough to blur her thoughts.

Time passed.

Eventually, Astor spoke.

“Then… will you teach me how to work?”

“…What?”

That was not what she expected.

Maybe the alcohol had already numbed her brain.

She simply blinked.

She had assumed he left troublesome work to her and Letty.

Yet here he was, asking to learn.

“Do you dislike the idea?”

“No. I don’t mind. But… is that really enough?”

Astor pulled one corner of his lips upward and nodded.

His eyes remained on his glass.

Impossible to read.

“I entered the military academy early. I never had the chance to learn estate management.”

Ah.

So she hadn’t imagined it.

Maybe he truly was inexperienced.

Still—

Why had the only son of a ducal house entered the military academy?

Usually that path was for second or third sons.

Her thoughts didn’t continue.

Her cheeks burned.

Her breath felt hot.

Even sitting upright became difficult.

So Lorren leaned back into the sofa like Astor.

Ducal furniture truly was different.

The soft cushions cradled her.

Comfortable.

Warm.

So this is why he likes this sofa.

Her head spun.

She was definitely drunk.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

“Then… I look forward to working with you…”

Her words stretched lazily.

She didn’t notice.

She smiled at him without meaning to.

The corners of her eyes softened.

Through blurred vision, she saw one of Astor’s eyebrows rise again.

Why make that face when you’re so handsome…?

Her vision faded.

Then darkness.

Astor let out a dry laugh.

At some point, Lorren had finished her drink entirely and fallen asleep against the sofa.

She looked utterly defenseless.

Hair black as a moonless sky—rare among nobles of the capital.

Her pale violet eyes were striking, yet the rest of her appearance was gentle.

Still, the capable expression and efficient nature inherited from the former Baron Siaz made her seem older than she really was.

Lorren almost always wore a soft smile.

That didn’t mean she lacked emotion.

He had seen her stiff expressions countless times.

Seen her look genuinely happy while teaching Letty.

But he had never seen her smile openly.

Not like this.

Truthfully, she was beautiful enough to make anyone look twice.

He had wondered how she looked when she truly smiled.

And now—

A casual request.

A thoughtless comment.

That was all it took.

Her eyes curved.

Her lips spread.

A bright, unguarded smile.

Without realizing it, his own expression hardened.

She was drunk.

Of course she was.

He knew that.

But her smile shone too brightly.

He couldn’t look away.

Why is she so happy?

Asking her to teach him had been impulsive.

A meaningless suggestion.

If she refused, he would have laughed it off.

Still—

Watching her sit beside Letty while working had been enjoyable.

Every time, her smile deepened a little.

Maybe that was why he wanted her closer.

Letty was a good student.

But Astor had achieved better grades at the academy.

Whatever he learned—

He would probably do it better.

The thought made him shake his head.

What nonsense.

He must be drunk too.

The military academy had never taught estate management.

Learning from Lorren was practical.

He was still the lord.

No matter how capable she was, he couldn’t leave everything to her and Letty.

Right.

This is for the estate.

Rubbing his face tiredly, Astor looked at the sleeping woman.

He hadn’t wanted to mention the academy.

What if she became disappointed?

What if she realized he wasn’t the cherished only son everyone assumed?

Ridiculous thoughts.

Astor laughed quietly at himself.

He didn’t want to think about appearances.

Or capability.

But this mess in his head kept happening because—

Lorren was too capable.

And far too pretty.

She was terrible with alcohol.

Yet she drank strong liquor without complaint.

The glass in her loosened hand nearly slipped.

Astor walked over and carefully removed it.

Setting it on the table, he looked down at her.

If she slept here, she’d wake exhausted.

She wore only a thin nightdress beneath her shawl.

She might catch cold.

There were no blankets in the study.

After a moment of hesitation—

Astor bent down and lifted her into his arms.

At the very least,

he wanted her to sleep comfortably.