The Perfect Bride - Chapter 28

Ian bent down to meet Natalie at eye level, then flashed a wide smile, mimicking her expression.

“No.”

“……”

“Tomorrow, I’ll visit the duchy myself. Pretending to see Aster, but actually to see you.”

Natalie couldn’t stop her face from twisting. He really had meant it about meeting every day. He never said anything lightly.

Ian laughed softly.

Unable to hide how flustered she was, Natalie climbed into the carriage like she was fleeing.

The carriage soon started moving. Ian remained where he was, watching until it disappeared from view.

Their first official date. Ian remembered the day as lighthearted and fun. So much so, he found himself looking forward to tomorrow.

The moment the carriage arrived at the duchy’s annex, Natalie rushed to her room on the second floor. She slammed the door shut and yanked off her cumbersome hat.

“That wicked man…”

Leaning against the door, she muttered with a weary face. Her grip on the hat tightened.

Natalie made up her mind. Starting tomorrow, she would avoid speaking to him as much as possible.

***

“Goodness! I hear this young lady is on her third season.”

“My, how precarious. Is no one showing signs of proposing?”

A lady, fanning her mouth, whispered excitedly. Someone else asked in a tone of pity.

“Well, she seems more concerned with scanning the gentlemen than enjoying these wonderful works…”

“This season will be hard on her again.”

A man pretending to be dignified chimed in, hands behind his back.

The group of gentlemen and ladies, speaking loudly enough for all visitors to hear, exchanged knowing glances.

“There must be something wrong with her!”

They all exclaimed in exaggerated, pitying tones filled with ridicule.

One by one, they began listing reasons for her supposed failure.

“It’s because her father has neither title nor honor. How did she even get into the Royal Art Museum?”

“Her looks are the problem. That pale face makes her look sickly, like she’s been poisoned by lead.”

“No, it’s her lack of modesty and grace. I heard something happened at a charity event once…”

None of it was new. It was the kind of gossip heard at any social gathering during the peak of the season.

“My ears are bleeding…”

Still, to think they’d be so loud even in the Royal Art Museum. Natalie, hiding against the wall to avoid attention, clicked her tongue quietly as she unintentionally overheard them.

She was wandering the maze-like exhibition alone because she didn’t want her presence to bother Dorothy.

Being pressed up against the wall wasn’t so bad. It felt oddly comfortable, like she’d found her place.

But the nonsense she’d been hearing was starting to get on her nerves.

The Royal Art Museum might be the place most favored by the cultured in Dwan, but it was also where the least cultured came to pretend they were refined.

Those types always spoke loudly, as if they wanted the world to hear.

‘Try being more original with your insults. Dwan’s high society hasn’t changed a bit in three years. If I could go back to the duchy now, I’d die happy.’

This place really didn’t suit her. With a sigh that had become habitual, Natalie pushed off from the wall to leave.

But she didn’t get a single step before she stopped dead in her tracks.

The prince was leaning against the doorway, watching her.

Good grief. Why does he always show up like this? Her heart fluttered, one beat behind.

Surprisingly, he was alone.

A minor baron’s daughter being alone made sense, but a prince, here without even an attendant?

‘I didn’t hear any commotion… How did he…? Does he have a secret royal passage or something?’

In reality, it was thanks to Marcus and about ten attendants clearing the way for Ian by subtly controlling the crowd, but Natalie assumed Ian had used some special method.

He was a prince, after all.

It suddenly felt like a secret rendezvous, and she felt strangely unsettled.

As always, he looked dashing. His stunning appearance only fueled her unwelcome thoughts.

“So this is where you were hiding.”

But the moment he opened his hellfire mouth, all those silly thoughts evaporated.

“I wasn’t hiding…”

No, that wasn’t it. She always seemed to get caught in his rhythm.

Responding instinctively, Natalie belatedly came to her senses and gave a polite curtsy. Then, forgetting her vow not to speak to him unless necessary, she asked, “When did you arrive?”

“Just now,” Ian answered as he closed the distance with his long stride.

She’d seen that face yesterday, the day before, and three days ago—but still wasn’t used to it. Natalie nearly stepped back, stopping herself just in time.

“Did you wait long? You even listened to all that boring talk.”

Natalie, hesitant to respond, slowly parted her lips.

“…Well, if we’re being technical, I was here first. They were the ones who started making noise.”

Just as he said, the dull chatter had left a weight in her chest.

Though Ian hadn’t expected a reply, a flicker of interest passed through his eyes. Just yesterday, at the duchy, Natalie had kept admirably silent, as if trying to uphold her own vow.

Right then, it seemed the loud group of men and women had moved on. The air had gone quiet.

Unaware of this, Natalie mumbled to herself, “Of course, I do agree their chatter was dull. Not even informative. Listening to it makes me feel like I’m getting dumber…”

Ian’s eyes sparkled unconsciously. Whatever breeze had stirred her, this was the first time she’d spoken so much since the David trial.

He suddenly wanted to hear more of that voice. As if not to interrupt, he fell silent and simply listened.

But his wish was short-lived.

“Miss Winterble? What do you think you’re doing? Stop that disgraceful behavior! No one saw, did they?”

Ten attendants weren’t enough to cover every corridor in the maze-like Royal Art Museum. A shrill voice from a middle-aged woman rang out from nearby.

Natalie, about to say more, quickly closed her mouth. Ian, annoyed at the interruption, furrowed his brow.

Click-clack.

Urgent footsteps quickly approached.

Suddenly reminded of her role as the prince’s scandalous lover, Natalie panicked. A lady being seen alone with an unrelated man? Unthinkable.

Startled, she pulled Ian further into the room, pressing herself tightly against the wall to hide. It was instinct more than anything.

Ian followed along without resistance.

The moment they had hidden themselves in a corner, the middle-aged woman stopped exactly where the two had been standing.

“Biting your fingers? Even with gloves on? Do you think that looks attractive? If you act that nervous in front of others, don’t expect to find a suitor!”

Her voice was low and fast, but now that they were closer, every word was clear.

“That would only bring shame upon me!”

“I-I’m sorry.”

It seemed the shouting woman was a chaperone, and the one being scolded a young lady seeking a husband.

The chaperone hurled a few more biting remarks that sounded like threats, then led the intimidated girl away.

Just as Natalie let out the breath she had been holding—

Ian, who had been silently watching her furrowed brow as he stood wedged between her and the wall, finally opened his mouth.

“Are we going to stay like this?” he whispered softly, deliberately low.

Natalie thought, This voice is too close, and slowly lifted her gaze.

“……”

Unluckily, his face seemed even closer than when they’d danced the waltz.

That’s when she realized—she had backed him against the wall and was now pressing her hands against his shoulders, their bodies practically touching.

Startled, she recoiled and plastered herself against the opposite wall. She looked as if someone had shoved her.

“S-sorry, Your Highness. I mean, Ian.”

At the same time, Ian’s lips twitched.

The art museum wasn’t a place for loud laughter. He held it back, adjusting his shirt collar with a stiff expression.

Meanwhile, Natalie began defending herself.

“That wasn’t meant to cause you any harm. I was simply trying to avoid being seen…”

“Being seen would’ve been better. Isn’t that why we came to this crowded place?”

Well, yes… Natalie’s face twisted again in embarrassment.

Ian knew when to stop. Having teased her enough, he shifted the mood with a casual tone.

“…I knew chaperones could be overbearing, but I didn’t realize it could be that bad.”

Natalie, still tense, froze.

That woman had certainly been harsh.

Most likely not a relative, but a noblewoman paid handsomely to act as the girl’s chaperone.

In that case, the young lady, referred to as Miss Winterble, was probably without title or connections. Her time in society likely wouldn’t be easy.

Maybe it was the lingering irritation from all the earlier gossip. Or maybe the scolding triggered old memories. Her mood sank quickly.

“How could she just stand there and take that? I would’ve stormed off ages ago.”

“……”

Ian, hands behind his back, casually remarked while looking at a painting on the wall.

His meaningless mutter somehow struck a nerve. She replied on impulse, “You wouldn’t have been able to.”

Her voice had dropped lower than usual. “Even you wouldn’t have found a way out—except marriage.”

Maybe he caught it. He turned to look at her.