Chapter 3:
Dimion’s gaze, which she thought would never meet hers again, pierced straight into Arte at the mere mention of the word “fiancé.”
That gaze, as if truly curious for an answer, was intense—even unbelievable coming from someone who had thoroughly ignored her just moments ago.
‘I knew it. There really is something.’
If she were just some random woman, there’d be no reason for him to react to talk of engagements or marriage.
“I’m not seeing anyone. I haven’t really given it much thought either.”
“You’re just like Lady Tien, then. With such beautiful ladies having such firm resolve, I imagine many men have shed tears.”
It was the marquis who had asked the question and responded with such a hearty tone.
But Arte’s gaze was fixed solely on Dimion from beginning to end, a fierce resolve burning in her eyes to catch even the slightest reaction.
Dimion didn’t show much response. He remained calm and composed, just as he always had been.
For someone who had just snapped his gaze toward her, his reaction was rather underwhelming.
“…!”
Just as Arte was growing frustrated at not being able to read his thoughts, her eyes widened.
There, in the gaze that had locked with hers for so long like a staring contest, she finally caught it—satisfaction.
Unmistakable, undeniable satisfaction.
Satisfaction that the seat next to Arte was still empty.
And it didn’t seem like he had any intention of hiding his emotions. The subtle lift at the corner of his lips as he sipped his champagne said it all.
He looked like a predator who had just finished a satisfying hunt. The air around him was so leisurely, it bordered on languid.
“Arte. You’re being a little too forward.”
Just as she found herself staring, entranced by Dimion, Peter whispered beside her.
“What? What are you talking about…?”
She turned toward him in disbelief, not understanding the sudden comment, only to find mischief sparkling in Peter’s eyes.
When Arte frowned slightly in question, he raised his brows and gestured toward Dimion with a glance.
‘Ah…’
She was about to scold him for jumping to conclusions when she remembered the moment she’d locked eyes with Dimion.
Arte normally didn’t show interest in men.
With her rare silver hair and even rarer golden eyes, she was widely acknowledged as a classically beautiful lady.
People in the territory even spouted embarrassing things like how she must be the incarnation of a forest goddess.
There were plenty of men who hovered around, hoping for a chance to speak with her.
And most of them, after exchanging just one glance with her, acted like they’d fallen into some once-in-a-lifetime love story.
She found it unpleasant. The more she experienced it, the more it disgusted her.
From that accumulated experience, she learned to strictly avoid meeting any man’s gaze. She didn’t want to give them even the slightest opening.
But today, Arte had stared openly at Dimion first.
So Peter’s misunderstanding was understandable.
Just as she was about to explain herself, a sudden idea sparked in her mind.
There was a secret method often used by men and women in high society when they found themselves mutually interested.
A discreet way to signal they wanted to meet in private.
Arte subtly tapped Lisa’s foot three times under the table, then gently overlapped her shoe with Lisa’s.
It was a signal they’d used since they were children—asking for help to get away from the table.
Whenever they exchanged that signal, they wouldn’t question it. The play would begin immediately.
Lisa nodded ever so slightly, just enough for Arte to see.
Then, sipping her champagne with a faint smile, Lisa turned to Arte.
“Arte, are you feeling okay? You don’t look well.”
Their years of coordination showed—Lisa’s acting was flawless.
Worry etched her face, as if genuinely concerned for her little sister.
“Is it that obvious?”
“I can always tell. You can’t fool my eyes.”
“Actually, I’ve had a headache since this morning. I thought it would pass, but it’s only getting worse.”
She spoke softly, but just loud enough that those across the table could hear.
“You should take some medicine and rest. I have some in my room.”
“Medicine makes me feel too drowsy… I think a bit of fresh air would help. You know how it is—the rose garden works better than any medicine for me.”
Arte let the location slip just enough for Dimion to catch it.
Before dinner, Peter had given Dimion a tour of the estate.
Arte had watched with her own eyes as Peter proudly introduced the rose garden as the estate’s crown jewel.
It was a place Dimion would have no trouble finding.
‘People said this is how they usually arrange secret meetings. He’ll understand.’
Though it was usually used for romantic rendezvous, this was the best she could manage now.
“Lisa. Arte. What’s going on?”
The countess approached just as the two girls whispered seriously to each other.
Perfect timing.
“Mother, Arte says she’s having a terrible headache.”
Lisa didn’t miss the opportunity and quickly created an exit for Arte.
“I’m so sorry. If the guests will excuse me, may I step away for a bit?”
Arte turned to Dimion and the marquis with a tired expression, as if all her energy had left her.
“Of course. Please go rest. I hope you feel better soon.”
The marquis, who had clearly overheard everything, let her go without hesitation.
Arte’s gaze shifted past him to Dimion. Their green eyes met, and tension stirred in the air.
“Of course.”
It had been unnecessary tension. Dimion’s soft voice, gentle to the point of being warm, granted her leave.
She was surprised by the unexpected softness—but only for a moment. Arte quickly exited the dining room and stepped out into the estate grounds.
“Phew…”
A long sigh broke the silence of the rose garden.
She had made her intentions clear to Dimion—that she would be waiting here. The die had been cast. All that was left was his answer.
“Surely he won’t just… not come?”
The problem was that his answer was taking longer than expected.
She hadn’t thought he would follow her immediately. That would’ve drawn attention. And since the dinner was being held for him, it wasn’t likely he’d just walk out halfway through.
At first, she hadn’t been anxious. In fact, it seemed better that he took his time. There were so many things she wanted to ask that she needed time to organize her thoughts.
But it had now dragged on far longer than she’d expected.
It was the tail end of spring. In the Tien territory, the sun was setting later and later into the sea.
Dimion was slower than even the lazy spring sun. The twilight sky she saw when she first came out had now turned pitch black, stars twinkling in full display.
She had already sorted through all her tangled questions. She’d even circled the stone arch overgrown with roses and counted the flower buds on the verge of blooming.
Arte glanced back at the brightly lit estate.
Not only was the dining room still glowing, but so was the small study where the count usually entertained guests after dinner.
A sudden dread crept in—what if Dimion had chosen not to come, instead opting to drink whiskey and play billiards in the study?
‘Is he not coming because he thinks it’s a romantic rendezvous? Because he doesn’t want to be involved like that? But then… he reacted so strongly when the word “fiancé” was mentioned.’
She had come out here under the pretense of easing a headache, but now it felt like she’d gained one instead.
Arte sighed again as she felt her once-organized mind unraveling into chaos.
A signal that receives no response is meaningless. No matter how passionately she tried to arrange a meeting, if Dimion didn’t answer, it was all for nothing.
“It must’ve been two hours by now…”
She glanced at the night sky, estimating the time, and found herself instinctively rubbing her temples.
She should have gone back long ago.
Finally, Arte stood from where she had been leaning against a stone pillar. There was no point in lingering any longer.
“…!”
Just as she turned to head back to the estate, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the quiet garden.
Not the light steps of a lady’s shoes. No one else would be out here at this hour unless they had been called.
Arte felt her heart beat faster than usual as she slowly turned around.
“…”
“…”
It was Dimion.
The man she had waited for so desperately had finally appeared.
