Chapter 7
“Miss, what are you doing?”
I was sitting at a tea table in the garden. Even when my maid, Mary, asked, I didn’t take my eyes off the paper in front of me.
“Are you writing poetry?” she teased with a laugh that sounded more like, ‘Why are you doing something that doesn’t suit you?’
I stared at the blank white paper and answered, “A will.”
“…What?”
“If I die, I’ll leave you my doll collection. You’ve been eyeing it anyway.”
Yawning, I rubbed my cheek with my quill.
That morning, I had woken up in a terrible mood and decided: If I’m destined to die, I might as well write a will first.
Mary tilted her head. “Did something go wrong with the meeting yesterday?”
“…How badly do you think I messed up to be writing a will today?”
“Did you duel someone?”
“…Do I look like that kind of person?”
Mary just grinned sheepishly. Apparently, yes — I looked like the type to pull out a sword and duel during a marriage meeting.
“It’s not that,” I sighed.
“Then why write a will all of a sudden? Did something happen?”
“…I remembered something from long ago.”
Mary blinked her round eyes.
I dropped my head onto the table, quill still in hand. “Maybe he really came to kill me.”
“…Huh?”
I thought of Kashiyar’s face — the man fated to kill me.
I believed I had twisted fate years ago. But what if fate cannot truly be changed? What if he came now to finish it?
“So you mean… your life is in danger?” Mary asked.
“Probably.”
“Maybe just talk it out?” she suggested, too lightly, as if my situation wasn’t serious at all.
Talk? Should I go to Kashiyar and say, ‘Are you going to kill me? Please don’t.’
My head spun. I stood up weakly.
“…I’ll strike first.”
“What?”
“Before he gets me, I’ll smash his head…”
My eyes landed on the ink bottle on the table. I grabbed it firmly.
“Yeah. Smash his head first, think later.”
If I knocked him out, maybe I could convince my parents to let me flee to my aunt’s territory. No matter how powerful a duke, he couldn’t easily barge into a marquis’s lands.
“…Miss.”
Just as I was about to march to the duke’s house, ink bottle in hand, a servant called me.
“There’s a guest for you.”
“…Guest? Who?”
The servant looked awkward. “You’ll see in the parlor. It’s… not just one or two.”
“…What?”
The ink bottle slipped from my hand.
Too late. Kashiyar had made his move first. Instead of coming himself, he must’ve sent knights to carry out fate.
But I was wrong.
Instead of knights, the parlor was overflowing with… shoes.
Every kind of shoe imaginable — in every color, every size, every heel height. The entire room looked like it might burst from shoes.
I gawked. “Why are there so many shoes…?”
And then, people started introducing themselves.
“From the famous shoe shop, Lavelt.”
“From Langblang, specialists in cowhide shoes.”
“A 200-year-old shoemaker’s guild…”
“From the newly opened Mobomobo, founded by an imperial shoemaker…”
One after another. Every shoemaker in the capital, it seemed, had come.
I frowned. “We don’t have the money to buy all this. And I already have enough shoes!”
They looked confused. Finally, one stepped forward.
“Miss Lerianna, these shoes have already been paid for. They’re all for you.”
“…What?”
“They were ordered urgently for your size. Custom shoes are also being made and will be delivered soon.”
My mind went blank. Me? Why? It’s not even my birthday…
I pointed at myself. “Me? Lerianna von Astant?”
“Yes, you.”
“…By who?”
At that moment, a man with green hair and glasses stepped forward.
“I am Hesib, from Duke Lesion’s household.” He bowed politely and handed me a small box.
Suspicious, I opened it carefully.
Inside wasn’t a weapon or trap. It was a beautiful glass-like shoe, sparkling like Cinderella’s slipper.
On top was a note:
[Sorry for the inconvenience. – Kashiyar]
“…What?”
I remembered muttering yesterday, ‘Oh, my heel broke.’ It wasn’t serious — just a little wobbly. But Kashiyar had apparently sent all this because of that?
Why? Wasn’t he supposed to kill me?
I stared at the glass shoe, and in its reflection, Kashiyar’s face appeared in my mind — just as he had looked 11 years ago.
“You were wrong, Lerianna.”
If he didn’t come to kill me… then why did he come back?
This was my chance.
“Is the duke himself at the residence right now?” I asked.
Hesib’s smile widened.
Now I sat in Kashiyar’s enormous mansion — so big, it made our home look tiny. Even the parlor I was in felt the size of a stadium compared to ours.
Everything was expensive, dazzling. Even the teacup in front of me was worth a fortune.
No wonder I felt nervous.
I got up, thinking I’d pass the time looking at the decorations until he arrived.
But the moment I stepped toward a painting—
“Nunim.”
The door burst open. Kashiyar entered.
“…That was fast.”
He wore training clothes, sweat still glistening on his forehead.
“Forgive me… for appearing like this.”
He couldn’t even look me straight in the eyes, instead glancing at the floor.
