“My lady!”
As soon as Astrid ran into the mansion, Rosana chased after her. But the unfamiliar long skirt made running difficult.
To make things worse, the area near the main gate was crowded with workers carrying goods, so Rosana had to constantly stop and start again. By the time she pushed through the crowd and reached the hallway leading to the central corridor, no one was in sight.
“So this is what she meant by ‘keep an eye on her’!”
Rosana finally understood Madam Vasquez’s instructions.
The reason Astrid needed watching wasn’t because she was scheming or malicious. Honestly, that would have been easier to deal with.
Lady Del Ponto was simply unpredictable!
“Rosana!”
As Rosana wiped sweat from her forehead, a familiar voice called out from down the hall. It was Astrid.
“My lady! You can’t just run off like that—”
Rosana started to scold her gently, but the words got stuck in her throat.
Astrid wasn’t alone. She was carrying the man who had chased after her — in her arms, bridal style.
His finely sculpted face rested against her shoulder, glistening with cold sweat. Rosana instantly recognized him. There weren’t many women in El Cantador who wouldn’t.
“That’s the heir of the Ortez family!”
“He seems really weak. Poor guy. I think he needs to lie down and rest somewhere.”
“My lady…”
Rosana looked at Astrid with suspicion in her eyes.
“…You didn’t hit him, did you?”
“I didn’t do anything! He ran at me and then just collapsed on his own!”
Astrid exclaimed in indignation.
“…I’m relieved to hear you didn’t knock him out.”
Rosana sighed lightly. She remembered the workers delivering a new daybed to the first-floor study and led Astrid there.
Astrid laid the young man down on the sofa and stretched her arms a bit.
“By the way, do you two know each other?”
“Kind of…”
Astrid trailed off. Her expression was ambiguous—her lips twitching as if she were annoyed or maybe suppressing laughter. Rosana decided not to pry.
“My lady, I have to go back outside. Someone needs to keep an eye on the workers. Please stay in this room until I return. No running off again, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Astrid dramatically flopped onto a single-seat sofa to show she wouldn’t cause trouble.
“I’ll keep watch until he wakes up.”
“Alright. I’ll inform the merchant team that you’re here.”
Rosana pulled a few suitable books from the shelf and handed them to Astrid, who accepted them without complaint and opened the first page.
Once Astrid seemed absorbed in reading, Rosana quietly left the study.
“Huff.”
Florian sat up with a gasp. The soft warmth of the sofa pressed against his palms.
He looked around the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and the furniture was still covered with white muslin. It was unfamiliar.
The last thing he remembered was chasing after that pirate woman and collapsing from exhaustion.
The red sunset spilling in through the large window told him a lot of time had passed.
“You really need to exercise more.”
A familiar voice startled him. He looked toward it and saw red curls blazing like fire in the glow of the setting sun. His heart pounded.
Florian froze, unable to say a word.
The woman closed her book with a loud thud.
“You okay? You were sweating buckets earlier.”
She reached out toward him. Florian wasn’t even running anymore, yet it felt like he was out of breath. His stomach churned.
He instinctively pulled back. The memory of fear that hadn’t yet been digested resurfaced sharply.
Only then did he regret chasing her on impulse.
What was I thinking? Trying to catch someone I clearly can’t overpower? Letting his anger lead him—that was unlike him.
Realizing it was just the two of them in the room, Florian grew even more afraid.
“You…”
What? Are you ready to die? This is the end for you?
Florian’s panicking mind filled in her sentence with the worst possibilities.
The woman stepped closer. All he could do was gasp and scoot backward.
While pretending to lower his gaze, Florian scanned her outfit, half expecting a dagger to come flying out from under her skirt at any moment.
“…How do I get out of here alive?”
Then the woman gently lifted his chin. As her hand approached his neck, Florian’s breath grew even more ragged. Her eyes met his directly, and his vision swam.
But then, her words caught him completely off guard.
“You’re really pretty.”
Florian’s head went cold in an instant.
“…What?”
“I didn’t notice before ‘cause I was busy, but you’re seriously pretty.”
He’d heard compliments about his looks all his life. But never from someone who had once threatened his life.
“…Is that really what you want to say right now?”
“Oh, right! There was something I wanted to say.”
She furrowed her brow.
“Sorry. I forgot while I was reading. Instead, you can ask me something if you’re curious.”
She shrugged. Florian felt all the tension drain out of him. His heartbeat and breathing finally returned to normal.
“…Where are we?”
“One of the many rooms in the Del Ponto estate?”
“…Why are you here? I saw you getting taken by the navy.”
She shrugged again.
“A lot happened. They said I’m supposed to live here from today.”
Who said that? He wanted to ask, but another question came out first.
“And who are you to live here?”
At that, she blinked, then scratched the back of her head with a sheepish grin.
“Right, we haven’t introduced ourselves.”
She reached out her right hand. But Florian flinched at the sight of it—memories of her grabbing him earlier still fresh.
“Oh,” she said, withdrawing her hand awkwardly and rubbing it against her dress. Then she bowed politely.
Florian reflexively stood and returned the bow. It was a habit drilled into him since childhood, from accompanying his father to meet clients.
“I’m Astrid… Del Ponto.”
“I’m Florian Ortez… Wait. Del Ponto?”
Florian slumped right back onto the sofa.
The one who saved Florian from his confusion was Rosana. She returned after seeing he was awake and quickly arranged for a carriage.
Though his head still felt dizzy, Florian was simply relieved to get away from that woman.
When he got home, his family was already having dinner.
His father sat at the head of the table, with his mother and two older sisters to his left. The empty seat to his right was Florian’s designated spot.
Mateo, his father, always insisted that the whole family eat dinner together. Florian cautiously stepped into the dining room and took his seat.
But unlike usual, his father didn’t seem irritated that he was late. In fact, he looked rather cheerful—like something exciting had happened.
“Florian.”
“Yes, Father.”
His father’s deep, smooth voice called his name. Florian sat up straight.
“You just came from the Del Ponto estate, right? I got the message.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mateo set down his fork and knife, interlocked his fingers, and rested his chin on them. A playful smile appeared in his gentle eyes.
Florian instantly recognized that expression—and got a bad feeling.
“You met Lady Del Ponto, I presume?”
“…Yes.”
“Introduced yourselves properly?”
“…Yes.”
Mateo smiled softly. Florian felt the blood drain from the back of his neck.
That face—his father always wore it when talking about marriage prospects.
The Ortez family had wealth, but no noble title. Mateo’s lifelong dream was to join noble society. He hadn’t achieved it himself, but saw a second chance in his son.
He would often talk about impoverished noble families or ladies past their prime marriage age, smiling warmly while nudging Florian toward them.
“The Count of Del Ponto’s daughter!”
Father, absolutely not.
“What a beneficial match for our family, don’t you think?”
She held a knife to my throat.
“I hope you two get to see more of each other.”
At that moment, Florian felt like he was about to faint again.
