The Perfect Bride - Chapter 58

Dorothy finished speaking and spun around. Her swift movement made her full skirt twirl. Natalie, startled, widened her eyes.

“So anyway. Are you going to read more? I mean, do you have to read right this moment?”

“…Not really.”

“That’s what I thought. You just looked so happy.”

“……”

“…Please. I was saying it looked nice. So stop making that awkward face. How long are you going to keep doing that?”

At the words ‘looked nice,’ Natalie’s eyes widened.

It felt like everything the prince said was always right. Natalie let out a silent chuckle. That laugh carried a bit of reverence.

When Natalie laughed, Dorothy’s eyes widened in turn. Hearing Natalie laugh, as if for the first time in a long while, Dorothy instinctively looked away.

“Ahem. What I mean is, if you’re not reading right now, then let’s get ready to go out. Up you go, Natalie. Let’s go.”

Ugh… I don’t want to. That was the look Natalie made for a split second. But from the beginning, she had no right to refuse.

Dorothy firmly hooked her arms around Natalie’s and began dragging her off.

“Oh right. There’s no maid named Fiona, is there?” She suddenly remembered and said casually.

“Fiona?”

“Goodness? Didn’t you ask me last time? If there was a maid named Fiona working at Huntington Hall.”

Ah, she had. Natalie felt a bit embarrassed.

“I’d like to see Fiona too. I don’t think I’ve seen her in over three years. I hope she’s doing well.”

She definitely wasn’t still bothered by what Catherine had whispered sweetly to Ian in the drawing room.

So really, it was just that there was nothing to do at Huntington Hall. That’s why. Just a bit of fun. A casual search.

“Not among the guests either?”

“Not that I know of.”

That was all.

“If she’s someone you really need to find, you shouldn’t be doing this. Ask Mrs. Bate or Lady Horace. They seem quite familiar with Huntington Hall.”

“No, it’s fine. Weren’t we going out?”

Natalie, who had been dragged along, suddenly quickened her pace like someone caught off guard.

***

Valenta, where two railroads end, is one of the developed metropolises. In its large U-shaped port, dozens of sailing ships were moored.

It looked rather crowded, but the section for the 500-meter turning race was completely empty. There, half a dozen race boats were actively practicing in the meantime for the rowing competition.

To be chosen for the July rowing competition was considered as much an honor among the mighty Grand Batten navy stationed in Valenta as being deployed on a high-difficulty operation.

A chance to win a hefty prize, escape dull rum, and drink the finest whiskey to their hearts’ content.

Above all, it was the perfect opportunity to attract the eyes of Valenta’s ladies watching the races and prove the worth of their thighs. That made them row even harder.

While showing off their powerful thighs and booming voices during practice—

“Kyaa!”

They could enjoy the thrill of hearing squeals from the ladies pretending to stroll by the docks to watch the training. If they occasionally waved to those girls while flaunting their beastly charm, the reactions were better than expected.

Hot glances exchanged across the sea in early summer often led to sweet rendezvous by night. It was a wild jungle no less than Nesbell Park during the social season.

But one race boat had a different story.

“H-help us…”

“Please, no more…”

As the soldiers who had been rowing back and forth without pause began to plead for mercy, their colonel stopped and casually brushed his hair back with one hand.

Yes. Seeing him sweat confirmed he was indeed human. He must be tired too. Hope glimmered in the soldiers’ dull eyes.

“Again.”

The colonel smiled brightly as he said it.

‘A devil in disguise with a charming smile! Even demons would weep!’

The soldiers trembled. They had been fooled into rowing several times by that smile, but now their limbs were shaking.

Why was he so obsessed with practice?

But in the military, a superior’s order was law.

The highest-ranking person on this race boat was the colonel. The soldiers, near tears, had to grip the oars again. They glanced with envy at another race boat sharing lingering eye contact with the dockside ladies.

The more capable a commander, the more infamous they became among the ranks. Colonel Valderma was notorious among all officers regardless of rank.

Though this was an era of peace under Grand Batten’s naval supremacy, any soldier assigned under Colonel Valderma could forget about an easy life.

But then again, who was Colonel Valderma?

Prince Ian, Duke of Valderma, was also known as the man of fortune.

When Colonel Valderma first declared he would personally participate in the rowing competition, the crew of the battleship King William erupted in cheers. This year’s event would be the most successful yet, and the winning team already decided.

But the moment practice began, the seven chosen to row with Colonel Valderma realized… they had made a mistake.

“Again.”

When that beautiful mouth uttered the word ‘again’ once more, the fourth soldier from the front finally retched and hunched over.

“Colonel! Lieutenant Musk has fainted!”

Someone shouted as if they had been waiting. Lieutenant Musk hadn’t actually fainted yet, but this opportunity was enough to force a brief halt in the practice.

Ian clicked his tongue and turned to look at Lieutenant Musk. His eyes looked regretful at a glance, but the soldiers were well aware that the expression was closer to ‘how could someone be so useless.’

“Take a short break.”

“Yes, Colonel!”

Those who had been on the verge of death answered with brave voices at the word ‘break.’ Ian knew they could go back and forth across the racecourse at least three more times, but he decided to let it slide.

Not because he pitied them in particular, but because he found it ridiculous that he was rowing like a madman just to forget his own thoughts.

“There’s nothing to worry about in Huntington.”

Just as he had said, he gave Natalie the peace called Huntington, but inside, he remained in turmoil the entire time.

‘Natalie Daus might actually bring down the tower I’ve built.’

The day he had run wild through the Horace estate’s garden like a madman, Ian had admitted that possibility.

Just as Natalie had once said, seeing her every day must have been too much.

Too much.

The time spent together, the number of times he thought of her, her very presence—everything was clearly excessive.

But it was still fine. Because Natalie had not yet disrupted his plans.

Ian decided to distance himself from Natalie. It would be a success as long as her presence didn’t grow further, and even better if it diminished.

Fortunately, Huntington was less bound by the eyes of others than Dwan. Spending less time on her wouldn’t look like discord.

But that was after he had already grown accustomed to facing her and talking with her daily like a ten-year-old habit. During meals, he would suddenly look across the table, and unconsciously turn his head and open his mouth with a “Natal…”—only to let out a bitter chuckle.

He couldn’t deny that seeing her expressive face regularly lifted his mood.

Failure. Failure. Failure. Failed to keep distance.

In the end, he rarely lasted more than two days before returning to Huntington.

And when he arrived, he instinctively searched for her room first. Of course, he knew very well that it wasn’t proper for a gentleman to barge into an unmarried lady’s room.

He felt self-loathing at how much like a trained dog he seemed, but only briefly.

Perhaps because she was in an unfamiliar place, she showed a strangely delighted expression whenever she saw him.

It was a new kind of joy.

‘Damn it. This isn’t right.’

Feeling a sense of crisis, Ian stubbornly didn’t see Natalie for more than two days.

The increasingly extreme rowing practice could be seen as a desperate attempt to reduce Natalie Daus’s presence. The noble rowing competition was being exploited.

‘What the hell is Natalie Daus that I’m doing something this pathetic.’

As Ian looked down at his blistered palm and swallowed yet another bitter laugh—

“Kyaa!”

A shrill cheer erupted from the dock. The women’s scream sounded louder than that of the Grand Batten navy.

Reflexively turning his head, Ian saw the soldiers on the nearby race boat waving toward the dock. One of them even jumped up, took off his shirt, and waved it like a flag. Cheers erupted again at the sight of his sunburnt, burly body.

‘Like a bunch of frogs in mating season.’

Ian thought blandly, but his soldiers didn’t seem to feel the same.

“Attention seeker!”

“What kind of dangerous stunt is that! Sit down right now!”

A few of Ian’s exhausted soldiers shouted jealously at the muscular man who had stolen the ladies’ attention.

Then their race boat rocked wildly. The soldiers gasped and barely managed to steady themselves.

“C-Colonel?”

What on earth was going on? Their colonel had stood up as if possessed.

His blue eyes sparkled brighter than ever. The prince’s gaze turned to the crowd gathered on the dock.

“Waaah!”

When the crowd spotted the prince, they roared and swayed as if to collapse the pier.

‘Why would someone who hates attention do that?’

From the perspective of a subordinate who had served under Colonel Valderma for years—

‘He’s really acting strange lately…’

Maybe the newspapers were right, and he really had gone mad under the spell of a wicked temptress.