SMTD 03

Chapter 3 …

Maxim stepped away from the window and let out a sigh. Even the way he ran a hand through his hair couldn’t hide the deep weariness in his expression.

“I’m tired. I just want to get back quickly.”

There was a faint edge to his urging voice. Elena hesitated. To be honest, she had no idea how she’d even walked this far. She had wandered aimlessly, and before she knew it, she’d arrived at the Cress Bridge. It was the same pattern every time, though today was a little different.

A noble-looking man had stepped in.

The man sighed once more and turned his head.

“I suppose I’ve meddled more than enough. I’ll be on my way now…”

“Please give me a ride. It’s the first house you’ll see after crossing that hill. I’d appreciate it if you could let me off some distance before you arrive.”

Elena rattled off the words like a machine gun and walked toward the carriage door. The neatly dressed coachman opened it and escorted her in. His polite smile gave Elena a bit of courage.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the coachman.

Elena swallowed hard. Boarding this carriage was, in a sense, a gamble. If the man turned out to be dangerous, then she’d die here—so be it. If he was truly a good person, then she’d at least get a ride home. She had nothing to lose.

The interior of the carriage was larger than it looked from the outside, and the man seated inside was just as imposing as the carriage itself.

It wasn’t strange, exactly—more like he exuded a kind of elegant savagery.

“Is ‘savagery’ even the right word…?”

Elena whipped her head to the side. She couldn’t believe she was having thoughts like that. Flustered, she bit down on her lip.

“Ah.”

The scabbed corner of her mouth stung. Pretending to rub her cheek, Elena tried to hide her face. To think she was showing herself like this in front of someone so well-groomed—an actual noble, the first she’d ever seen in her life. Embarrassment flooded her, and her toes curled involuntarily.

She felt his gaze brush past her toes. After observing her briefly, his eyes came to rest on her face.

He was probably looking at the bruises and scratches there—the marks she’d gotten after being shoved and struck by Cécile.

Elena closed her eyes and began counting numbers in her head, praying for the carriage to stop quickly.

The carriage moved smoothly, retracing the path she had walked alone, but now with two passengers. Eventually, it came to a halt. The door opened courteously, and Elena bolted like a startled rabbit. Watching her run off, Maxim let out a quiet laugh.

She hadn’t even offered thanks or her name.

She was pitiful—like a prey animal that had been ambushed. Was it fear, or was it rudeness?

After the girl ran off, the coachman’s face appeared through the open door, looking oddly pleased. All the household servants were strange like this. Maxim clicked his tongue. He didn’t know how the butler managed them—all of them were naggers.

“Are we done now?”

“…All of Hwangseong will be in awe of Your Grace’s generosity.”

Maxim clicked his tongue again and slammed the carriage door shut himself.

Maxim found every day in Rebunto unbearably dull. His aunt was doing everything she could to keep him here. She hadn’t met him for a week, claiming to be ill and taking to her bed.

“Grandfather always favored Aunt…”

Maxim ground his teeth. No wonder she was still so willful at sixty.

She ought to realize what a massive loss this was for a businessman whose every minute and second mattered. Still, today, she had no choice but to show herself. It was her sixtieth birthday banquet.

Once today passed, Maxim would finally leave this tedious Rebunto behind.

Of course, he wasn’t the only one summoned here.

Camellia was also in Rebunto. Maxim and Camellia had known each other for a long time, so they naturally ended up seated at the same table. But knowing each other for long didn’t mean they got along. They sat side by side in silence, not exchanging a single word, until Kails approached them.

“You two must be the only ones here wearing such bored faces. Anyone who sees you would think there’s some great misfortune in your families.”

“Thank you for pointing that out,” Camellia replied flatly, turning her head away.

The Countess of Presto seemed to have invited every noble living nearby. Well, the Count of Presto was doing everything in his power to marry off his only son.

Though their motives were different, the Countess of Presto and Maxim’s aunt shared one goal: to gather as many nobles as possible. Invitations had even been scattered across the capital, so everyone hoping to forge ties with House Presto had come.

Camellia, who had been sitting with a bored expression, narrowed her eyes.

“…But that woman went too far.”

She muttered under her breath.

Her gaze landed on Cécile Joseph, who had arrived decked out like a peacock. She had tried to cover up the frayed hem of her dress by piling on gaudy accessories, and the jewelry she wore was tacky.

Her clothes were completely out of fashion, and her makeup was heavy.

Altogether, it made her look like a clown.

“Do we really have to invite people like her? Maxim, what will you do if your aunt tries to marry you off to someone like that?”

Hearing his name, Maxim slowly turned his head, wineglass in hand. Camellia jerked her chin toward a woman standing awkwardly apart from the others, unable to blend in.

Pale, small, and… strangely familiar.

That was the kind of woman she was.

Maxim blinked.

“Why does she feel so familiar…?”

Given that it was his own impression, he must have seen her somewhere before. She wore a faded dress that barely covered her ankles, and it didn’t even fit her—it hung loosely, ready to slip off. But despite her shabby clothes, she looked pure.

Her transparent blue eyes, which seemed to take up half of her pale face, were glistening with moisture.

Her hair ornament, whoever had arranged it, was already a mess, on the verge of falling out. People’s whispers started focusing on her.

She looked like a small creature searching for an escape route.

As Maxim’s gaze dropped to her feet, a memory flashed before him—the same pale feet he’d seen before, smeared with dirt but still strikingly white.

“Ah.”

Maxim’s quiet exclamation made Camellia follow his gaze.

That woman.

The woman from that day.

A week ago, at Cress Bridge—he’d thought he was rescuing her, but it had felt more like he was the hunter watching a rabbit flee. Maxim chuckled. To think they’d meet again like this.

“Do you know her?” Camellia asked hastily.

It was Kails who answered instead.

“I can guess. That woman over there is Cécile Joseph. Judging by the similar clothing, she must have brought her daughter with her. Poor thing. What must it feel like to be born to such a woman? Like being a bird made for ridicule?”

Maxim narrowed his eyes.

Joseph… Joseph.

…Elena Joseph.

Now he even knew her name. Maxim gave a cold laugh.

That day, he’d only taken Elena in the carriage because of the coachman’s insistence. The coachman had loudly listed at least seven terrible things that could happen to a girl like her wandering outside in that weather. With that much imagination in such a short time, he ought to be a writer.

Exhausted and unable to take any more nagging, Maxim had turned the carriage around. The coachman had shouted with glee:

[“See! I knew His Grace was a kind man! I never doubted it!!”]

What on earth did he “believe”? Maxim had thought countless times that he should have taken the train instead. He hadn’t wanted to be crowded with others, but since he couldn’t get a ticket, he’d reluctantly taken the carriage—only for all this to happen.

And so, their paths had crossed.

He hadn’t expected to see her again here, in that state. Judging by the way her mother was dragging her around so roughly, their intentions were obvious.

The girl was here to be sold off for a good price in this marriage market.

Maxim narrowed his eyes again.

Her disheveled appearance at the bridge—barefoot, dirty—had somehow looked better than this dressed-up version.

Camellia glanced sideways at Maxim. A flicker of strong emotion passed through her eyes before disappearing.

Then she turned her head away from him again. Surely Maxim wouldn’t take an interest in a girl like that…?