Chapter 24
The carriage came to a careful stop in front of the residence. As the coachman opened the window to announce their arrival, Ian, who had been following on horseback, stopped him.
Ian quietly approached and slightly opened the window to peek inside.
Pierre was leaning his head against the wall with his arms crossed, a deep frown on his face as he dozed lightly.
Ian quietly closed the window again.
“Let him rest like that for a while.”
The coachman nodded with a smile.
Pierre hadn’t had any proper rest over the past few days due to a series of incidents. He had skipped meals, barely slept, and was on edge.
And then, the sudden arrival of Cecilia Niberius had only added to his burdens.
Ian dismounted and looked up at the Cardinand residence.
Cecilia’s stupid face flashed across his mind, and his expression twisted in disgust.
What on earth had the master been thinking, allowing that woman into the estate? If word got out, not only would there be scandalous rumors, but it would surely tarnish the renowned Cardinand name.
After a moment of consideration, Ian shook his head.
No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t understand his master’s decisions.
All he could do was try to let him rest, even for a short while.
But even that didn’t last long.
Pierre stepped out of the carriage.
“How long have we been here?”
His voice, still half-asleep, was dangerously low. His cold eyes brushed past the coachman and landed on Ian. The coachman flinched and lowered his head.
“Just arrived, sir.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I apologize. You looked very tired, sir.”
“Don’t meddle.”
Leaving only those cold words behind, Pierre walked into the residence.
Ian bowed his head as he watched him go.
Inside the residence, Pierre let out a long sigh.
He hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and it was fraying his nerves. Letters from nobles flooded in, all begging for him to quickly resolve the situation.
If they were so scared, they should’ve stayed locked up in their own estates.
Hearing them whine had given him a persistent headache.
On top of that, trying to appease the Emperor had pushed his fatigue to the limit.
Pierre walked down the hall with confidence, but paused at a fork in the corridor.
One way led to his office.
‘And the other… to the sub hall.’
That was where Cecilia Niberius was likely undergoing etiquette training.
He stared at the fork with a blank expression for a moment, then turned and began walking again.
He chose the path to the sub hall.
Without hesitation, he opened the door.
Thud!
Just as the door swung open, Cecilia let out a loud noise and fell clumsily to the floor as if she’d been waiting for someone to walk in.
“Ugh, is this really something a person can walk in…?”
Groaning, Cecilia pushed herself up. Then she saw the polished black shoes in her field of vision and quickly looked up.
Her round eyes turned sharp in an instant.
Pierre sighed quietly as another headache crept in.
He should’ve just gone to his office instead of seeing this mess.
Dear Father,
How have you been feeling lately? I hope you’re not pushing yourself too hard again.
As for me…
The tip of Cecilia’s pen stopped.
It had already been seven days since she started living at the Cardinand estate. As her memories replayed like a panorama, sorrow welled up inside her.
I haven’t been doing well. This place is hell. I wake up at the crack of dawn and don’t get a second to myself until late at night.
They feed me so little I feel like a newborn baby. And there’s so much I have to learn, even more I’m not allowed to do.
They told me a lady’s footsteps shouldn’t make a sound, and made me walk between candle flames. Seriously, how is a person supposed to walk without making a sound—
Rip.
The paper tore under her pen.
She’d pressed too hard in her irritation.
“Haa…”
Cecilia let out a heavy sigh and leaned her head back against the chair.
It had been a week since she started staying at the Cardinand residence.
When she told her father she would be staying for a while, he had naturally flown into a rage and objected vehemently. But in the end, he couldn’t win against her stubbornness.
Still, he must’ve been furious. He hadn’t replied to a single one of her letters.
Nevertheless, she had been sending him letters every other day to ask after his health.
She turned to look out the window.
The sky was a bright, clear blue, as if someone had poured paint across it, with not a single cloud in sight.
“Beautiful weather…”
It would’ve been the perfect day for hunting.
Autumn was coming to a close. Around this time last year, she had been hiking happily with her uncles.
That venison we caught then was delicious.
Just a month ago, she had been catching pheasants in the mountains. Who could’ve imagined she’d now be stuck here learning etiquette?
Emotion welled up unexpectedly, and she bit her lip.
Soon enough, the etiquette teacher burst in, dragging her back to the sub hall.
Dressed in a trailing gown and high heels, she resumed her walking lessons.
She thought silencing her footsteps would be easy, given all her mountain experience—but this was something else entirely.
She had to keep her head at a 45-degree angle, back perfectly straight. How could anyone walk without making a sound like that?
That wasn’t human—it was ghost-like, supernatural.
Her focus slipped, and she immediately tripped over her dress hem and fell forward.
“Ugh…”
The thud echoed across the hall.
As she got up, she saw a pair of gleaming shoes in her view again.
Looking up, she found Pierre staring down at her with a look of disdain.
Cecilia didn’t avoid his gaze.
She had so much to say. She’d said she would do anything for her family, but wasn’t this a bit much? Was this kind of training really necessary to redeem her family’s reputation?
As she glared daggers at him, Pierre let out a quiet sigh.
I’m the one who should be sighing.
A gentleman would at least offer a hand when someone fell, but he simply stood there, cold and unmoved.
“How long are you going to stay like that? Or do you need to be taught how to get up as well?”
Gritting her teeth, Cecilia jumped to her feet and dusted off her dress.
He frowned in disapproval.
“A lady doesn’t dust off her own dress. She waits for a maid to do it.”
“So what you’re saying is, I shouldn’t be a lady—I should be a newborn.”
“You should fix that sarcastic tone quickly.”
Shaking his head, he walked right past her.
He wanted her to become a perfect lady, yet he himself lacked even the basic manners of a gentleman.
“Welcome, Your Grace.”
Unlike how she treated Cecilia, the etiquette teacher greeted Pierre with utmost formality.
Pierre simply gestured in acknowledgment and seated himself at the head of the sub hall, as if it were the most natural thing.
“Report on her progress.”
The teacher looked troubled. She glanced at Cecilia, sighed, then spoke.
“She’s falling behind in every area. Not only in basic manners, but also in cultural knowledge and history—she’s practically a blank slate. With all due respect, I think it may be difficult to turn her into a suitable lady for Your Grace in just two weeks…”
“I didn’t invite you here to hear that kind of talk.”
His low voice made the teacher flinch and bow her head deeply.
“It’s my own shortcomings, sir. I will try harder.”
Pierre’s gaze shifted to Cecilia.
“Niberius. What on earth did your family teach you?”
The scorn in his tone made Cecilia bristle, but she answered calmly.
“…Our family values practicality over etiquette. We farm when needed, and we hunt.”
The teacher looked appalled, and Pierre’s expression grew even more fatigued.
“Fine. Then tell me what you are good at.”
“Archery. Horseback riding. A bit of swordsmanship.”
“A wild animal, then.”
Pierre snapped his fingers lightly, and the etiquette teacher quickly handed over a chart tracking her lessons.
“As the lady said, her riding skills are excellent. However, she relies more on strength and speed than finesse, so her posture needs refining.”
“Even if she’s lacking in other areas, she has to at least know how to dance. How’s she doing there?”
“She has memorized the movements, but overall it still feels awkward. That’s something tied to innate elegance, so it’s hard to change in a short time.”
He sighed again.
It was disastrous. Absolutely hopeless.
“Is she planning to give a horseback performance at the next social party? I don’t understand how she could’ve spoken so confidently with this level of refinement.”
