Chapter 5
To exaggerate just a little—it was the size of a house.
Compared to the small, shabby carriage that had brought Erica from the Blanche Marquessate, this one was so large and sturdy that it felt wrong to even draw a comparison.
‘I haven’t seen the inside yet, but judging by the size, it looks like you could lie down in there.’
She even had the fleeting thought that the cushions on those carriage seats might be softer than the old, hard bed she’d always used in the attic of the marquessate.
Anyway, Sebastian said just that much—and no more.
Perhaps he felt that saying anything further would come off as an excuse, and thus cheapen the explanation.
This time, it was Milord, Sebastian’s aide who had remained quietly in the background until now, who stepped forward.
“It is, after all, the carriage meant to escort the bride, is it not? We’re seasoned knights, used to spending days and nights on horseback, but such rough travel wouldn’t be suitable for a young lady of refinement.”
Milord’s gaze shifted to Erica.
When their eyes met in midair, Erica flinched and quickly lowered her gaze, startled even though she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Seeing that, Milord awkwardly stretched his lips into a sheepish expression—but unfortunately, Erica missed it.
Milord ran a hand down his jawline for no real reason, cleared his throat, and continued his explanation.
“As you can see, the carriage is so large that two horses couldn’t pull it properly. One of the wheels even came off halfway through. Fixing that caused the delay.”
After he finished, Milord glanced toward his master, gauging Sebastian’s reaction.
Regardless of the reason, it was undeniable that they had arrived late.
It would only be proper to apologize—but the highest-ranking person here was Sebastian.
Milord couldn’t possibly offer an apology before his lord did.
But Sebastian showed no sign of making such an apology.
‘He probably would’ve apologized under normal circumstances, but that head maid rubbed him the wrong way… Oh dear.’
Milord sighed internally.
An awkward silence settled in for a moment.
Then the old priest chimed in, picking up from Milord’s explanation.
“Ah, yes. I figured there must be some sort of reason.”
The old priest nodded, and Erica gave the faintest of nods herself, her head bowed low.
So it wasn’t a deliberate delay meant to humiliate her.
They’d simply run into trouble trying to bring a comfortable carriage.
“I had meant to explain after the introductions, but things somehow turned out this way,” Milord said, trailing off.
This time, Erica cautiously glanced toward where Bonpiju was standing.
‘The head maid was too hasty…’
If Bonpiju hadn’t acted so rashly, the mood of their first meeting might not have soured this badly. Erica couldn’t help but feel a trace of resentment.
‘Not that I can express any of that, of course.’
Just as Erica let out a silent sigh, Bonpiju finally finished coughing and forced herself to her feet. Her lower lip, bitten so hard it had gone pale, trembled with frustration.
Seeing that expression, Erica stiffened.
‘What if the head maid gets angry again?’
She was suddenly terribly worried.
She’d begged Sebastian just to get her spared.
But what if Bonpiju, heedless of the mood, raised her voice in protest—claiming she had been insulted in her role as the marquess’s representative?
‘What will I do then?’
That would make Acliff’s show of tolerance look like nothing more than lip service, and things would become very difficult.
Erica watched Bonpiju with nervous eyes.
Her heart was pounding.
Whether from choking or from shame, the blood had rushed to the head maid’s face, keeping it an angry shade of red.
But thankfully, her demeanor was much different than before.
Perhaps the earlier blow to her pride had humbled her. She was clearly intimidated by Sebastian’s presence now, swallowing dryly with a tense expression.
The old priest spoke up again, clearly trying to ease the heavy mood hanging over them.
“Well, I did find it strange that you were late. Unless I didn’t know the young archduke at all… I couldn’t imagine someone like you, who treats time like gold, being this late without cause.”
His words took Sebastian’s side.
Sebastian, who had remained silent, now spoke curtly.
“I would have explained earlier—if someone hadn’t arrogantly interrupted with needless words.”
His voice was slow and even, but a warning glinted unmistakably beneath the surface.
“I dislike the Blanche Marquessate, yes—but treating people properly is another matter altogether.”
Bonpiju flinched visibly.
She gripped her politely folded hands tighter, her lips trembling as she forced herself to speak.
“I… I’m sorry. I was only upset because the young lady seemed to be suffering…”
She must have wanted to avoid further reprimand. Casting a quick glance toward Erica, she let her voice fade into a barely audible murmur.
“I’m sorry. I overstepped. Please see it as the result of misplaced loyalty, and I beg your forgiveness just this once.”
That’s not true. Erica bit her lip softly.
In just that brief moment, Bonpiju had neatly shifted the blame for her own rudeness onto Erica.
‘But I never said anything like that…’
She hadn’t uttered a single complaint while waiting for Sebastian—so the injustice cut deep.
But no one here would listen to her, so she could only press her lips shut.
Barely managing to suppress her emotions, Erica composed herself and awkwardly brought her hands together.
“Y-you’re right. It’s my fault… I’m sorry.”
She bowed her head deeply toward Sebastian.
Sebastian’s brows twitched slightly, displeasure flickering across his face.
After a moment, he let out a heavy sigh and spoke in his blunt manner.
“Raise your head.”
Only then did Erica lift her face—but she still couldn’t meet his eyes and kept her gaze downcast.
Sebastian simply watched her in silence.
The girl stood quietly, braced as if ready to accept any scolding or reproach he might throw her way.
But unlike how he had treated Bonpiju, Sebastian didn’t fault Erica for anything.
He only muttered a single sentence.
“The daughter is quite different from her father.”
Erica’s shoulders jolted at those words.
It felt as if her heart had fallen straight to the floor at her feet.
‘What am I supposed to say to that?’
She held her breath.
‘Did he notice?’
That she wasn’t the real daughter.
The moment that terrifying thought struck, her mouth went dry.
She could feel the cold sweat trickling down her spine.
‘If he did realize… then I have to cover it up somehow.’
Her mind turned to mush, making it impossible to think straight.
Her face had gone ghostly pale, and her words came out in a stutter.
“…! I, um… th-that is…”
But Sebastian didn’t seem to expect an answer from her.
He immediately moved on to another question.
“How old are you?”
“M-my age… sir?”
Erica’s golden eyes trembled in confusion—but she was also somewhat relieved by the sudden change of topic.
“Yes. Your age.”
Sebastian nodded, and Erica took a deep breath before replying.
“I-I turned ten this year.”
The moment the words left her lips, Sebastian’s expression twisted into a scowl.
Erica’s heart sank again.
‘Did I say something wrong?’
Was her phrasing improper?
Should she have used “–입니다” instead of “–어요”?
As someone who wasn’t really a noble lady, she didn’t know what was correct in situations like this.
Then Sebastian asked again.
“Ten years old?”
His cold tone made Erica shrink as she answered, terrified.
“…Yes? Y-yes.”
“Hah.”
Sebastian let out a dry, incredulous laugh, twisting the corner of his mouth.
Then, with eyes like frozen embers, he slowly looked her up and down.
‘I-is he about to find fault with me again…?’
