Chapter 87

The wind had turned so cold that one could not step outside without wearing thick clothes.

It was the kind of winter when the whole town seemed frozen, and aside from making snowmen or warming frostbitten hands by the fireplace, there was little else to do.

For Agnes, who was spending her first winter in the North, the days felt uneventful. But it was likely the same for everyone else who lived there.

Perhaps that was why, one day in the heart of winter, invitations began arriving at the Vasteron mansion.

Agnes was the first to respond to the one sent by Baroness Arbil. It was an invitation to a tea party that would be attended only by the closest of noble ladies.

As she went through the other invitations, however, one in particular made her frown.

‘Marcella Peridot.’

It was that woman again.

Agnes had already refused one invitation through Gavelin, and she had even sent word warning the Count Peridot family of what might happen if the Vasteron household’s support were to be withdrawn.

Yet Marcella had sent another invitation.

This time, the wording was polite and formal, without any trace of the provocative tone she had used before.

It seemed the previous warning had not been entirely meaningless, but it had not been enough to make Marcella give up either.

With a deep sigh, Agnes wrote a refusal. Her reply was just as formal as Marcella’s invitation, flawless in tone and entirely devoid of emotion.

As she folded the letter and sealed it, she felt an uneasy sense that this empty exchange of invitations and rejections would not end anytime soon.

* * *

A few days later, Agnes visited Baron Arbil’s estate with Noah.

“Welcome. It’s freezing out here, please come inside.”

Baroness Arbil greeted them warmly and led them in.

The great hall of the Arbil mansion was small, yet it had an elegant charm that reflected its owner.

The decorations and furniture were simple, but the lines of the room were graceful and neat, with not a hint of excess.

Muted curtains were tied back so that sunlight poured in through large glass windows.

“Oh my, Duchess Vasteron. And young Master Overhen too. We haven’t met since the Harvest Festival, have we? I’m so glad to see you.”

Baroness Orwellin, as lively as always, greeted them cheerfully. Seeing Noah at Agnes’s side, she smiled in delight.

“My goodness, you’ve grown so much. That coat looks wonderful on you. I suppose we can’t call you a little gentleman anymore.”

Noah’s cheeks flushed pink as he smiled shyly.

While Agnes exchanged greetings with the ladies, a bright voice suddenly called out from across the room.

“Noah!”

She did not even need to look to know who it was. That cheerful voice could only belong to Violet.

Noah immediately turned his head, looking for her.

“Violet?”

At a low table filled with pretty desserts made for the children, Violet waved both hands.

“Noah, over here.”

“Master Overhen, come join us.”

Violet was not alone. Her younger brother and the five children of the Orwellin family were there as well.

Noah looked up at Agnes, asking silently if he could go.

“Go ahead and say hello. Have fun.”

When Agnes gave him a gentle push, he grinned and ran off to join the other children.

Since the adults had been busy after the Harvest Festival, the children had not seen one another in quite some time. They must have missed each other dearly.

Watching them, Agnes smiled in satisfaction and then joined the ladies gathered at the tea table.

The tea that Baroness Arbil served had a deep, soothing fragrance and a rich flavor.

The ladies’ chatter flowed endlessly, as it always did in such comfortable gatherings.

It began with light greetings and soon turned to complaints about tight winter budgets and ways to save money.

“Clothes can always be mended from last year’s, but firewood is the real issue. The days get dark so early, and the candles disappear before you know it.”

“My husband spends all day in his study. That huge room all to himself, with the fire going and candles burning all the time. It drives me mad.”

“I started making candles from kitchen grease. It actually doesn’t smell bad at all.”

“Oh, that’s clever. I moved my husband’s study into a smaller room. Does he think he’s the Emperor or something?”

The conversation flowed naturally from husbands to children.

“Can you believe someone already proposed a match for my son Caron? My husband’s actually considering it. He’s only thirteen, though he’ll be fourteen soon.”

Baroness Orwellin spoke with concern, and Viscountess Tavella laughed gently beside her.

“Didn’t you get engaged at fourteen yourself?”

“Well, yes, but it feels different when it’s my son.”

Baroness Arbil, who had the oldest children among them, sighed and shook her head.

“If it’s a good family, an early engagement isn’t so bad. I just don’t know what to do with my eldest daughter.”

“Your daughter wants to inherit the Arbil estate, doesn’t she?”

“Exactly. I’d be glad if she found a husband willing to live here, but she’s not interested. She just follows her father everywhere, learning how to manage the business.”

Normally so calm, Baroness Arbil spoke in a slightly louder voice, her frustration showing. Baroness Orwellin leaned forward, intrigued.

“Doesn’t your husband find that annoying?”

“Not at all. He’s proud of her. Those two get along perfectly. I’m the only one worrying.”

She sighed again, but Agnes could hear the quiet pride beneath her complaint.

Despite her words, Baroness Arbil clearly admired her daughter’s determination to inherit the family name.

It was rare for a woman to take over a noble house in the southern provinces, but in the North, such things seemed to be accepted without resistance. Agnes found that fascinating.

Smiling faintly, she listened to the conversation.

She and Viscountess Tavella, whose children were still young, had nothing to add, yet they found themselves listening intently, thinking of their own distant futures.

As Agnes lifted her teacup, her eyes drifted toward Noah for a moment.

Someday, he too would grow up and find someone to love. She hoped he would choose a partner out of his own heart and will.

It was a rare freedom in noble society, but if he could have that and find true happiness, there would be nothing more she could wish for.

The tea party was in full swing when two women entered the hall.

Both wore thick gray dresses with fur-lined cloaks, and they carried with them a trace of the chill from outside.

Their presence felt slightly out of place in the warm and lively room, drawing every eye, including Agnes’s.

The smile that had rested naturally on her face froze for an instant.

One of them was not an unusual sight here.

It was Clarice Arbil, the baron’s eldest daughter, who had just been mentioned in conversation.

But the woman standing beside her was someone whose appearance here surprised everyone.

“Oh dear, I didn’t realize a tea party was already in progress. It seems I’ve come on the wrong day.”

Marcella Peridot spoke with an awkward smile, as though she had not expected this situation at all.

Clarice looked equally flustered and quickly tried to explain.

“I must have been so distracted lately. I didn’t realize there were guests today and brought mine along without thinking. We’ll head upstairs, please don’t mind us. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

She had mentioned earlier how busy she had been preparing to inherit the family estate, so perhaps she had genuinely forgotten. Normally, such a mix-up could have been brushed aside with a shy laugh.

After all, there was nothing strange about inviting a friend to one’s home.

Marcella and Clarice were both northerners of similar age and temperament, so their friendship was hardly surprising.

Still, this situation had only turned awkward because Agnes was present. If she said nothing, the uncomfortable mood would remain.

After a brief thought, Agnes smiled warmly and spoke first.

“It’s all right, Lady Arbil. It’s just a small tea party. You must have been outside for quite a while in this cold.”

At her gracious tone, Clarice lowered her head in gratitude before lifting it again.

“Yes, Duchess. The sky was so clear today that I decided to go riding for a while.”

“You must be tired then. Please rest.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Duchess. We’ll excuse ourselves now.”

Clarice smiled and quickly guided Marcella toward the stairs.

Marcella said nothing, only gave a polite bow before following her friend.

But just as she reached the first step, Marcella turned her head slightly and looked toward Noah.

Her bright green eyes narrowed, studying him with a curious, unreadable expression.