Liz recalled the cold gaze that had briefly met her side face in the garden a while ago.

She had purposely ignored it, grinding the straw under her toes until it turned to dust, but she had felt it nonetheless. It was a very persistent gaze.

Come to think of it, that man had recently been listing all the wrongdoings she had committed in the past. Could he still hold some lingering resentment?

‘Ugh!’

Liz tore at her hair and let out a silent scream.

Just then, a knock at the door prevented her from tearing out half of her hair.

“Miss, it’s Lena.”

“What is it?”

The young servant’s voice trembled from behind the door.

“The lady requests your presence in the reception room.”

The reception room, not the living room?

Liz remembered how just a moment ago, Mirabel had heard the servant assembly bell and gone downstairs.

‘She must be expecting a guest.’

Who could be so important that they’d even call their usually ignored first daughter?

“Who’s the guest?”

Lena seemed to have trouble uttering the name as she took a deep breath.

“It’s His Grace, Duke Montaner.”

Liz descended the stairs, impeccably dressed.

There was no sign that she had torn at her hair just moments before.

Mirabel, who had been nervously pacing in front of the reception room, quickly approached Liz upon seeing her.

“You must have been very surprised, Miss. I was quite startled as well.”

Mirabel seemed slightly excited.

Duke Montaner. Wasn’t he the man who could even make birds fall from the sky?

The only thing he lacked was the title of Emperor, but that would soon be his, ensuring that the world would be his for the next several decades.

Just hearing his name was enough to send shivers down one’s spine; how much more so for a young lady ten years his junior?

However, Liz’s expression remained placid, belying such worries.

“Yeah, a little.”

Though Mirabel found it a bit odd, she was relieved that Liz wasn’t panicking and led her to the door of the reception room.

Just as she was about to turn the doorknob.

“Wait.”

At Liz’s words, Mirabel paused.

“Where is Kain?”
“Kain?”

Mirabel asked in a hushed voice.

‘Why is she looking for him here? If so, Miss, you can’t…’

But it was neither the time nor place for such rebuke.

“He went out on an errand at the market.”

“I see.”

Liz’s slightly upturned lips made Mirabel even more bewildered.

What does it matter whether that man is here or not when Duke Montaner, esteemed higher than the heavens, is present?

“Now you may open it.”

Liz instructed with a noticeably relaxed face. Suppressing her inner questions, Mirabel slowly opened the door.

The first thing she saw through the gradually widening gap was the back of a man facing away from her.

It was black hair, similar to her nephew’s.

As the door opened a bit more, simultaneously, the flushed faces of Lilia and her mother came into view.

A smile so similar on both faces that one could hardly believe they weren’t blood relatives.

A smile so warm and bright it almost seemed artificial.

Finally, the door fully opened, and Liz cautiously stepped inside.

The door closed, and Duke Montaner slowly rose and turned around.

For a moment, Liz even forgot to greet him.

A villain in the story… but too gentlemanly?

Black hair like her nephew’s, eyes uniquely mixed with red and purple hues.

His age only hinted at by slightly puffy cheeks and the dignified aura emanating from him.

He looked so young and handsome that one could believe he was the younger brother of the protagonist, despite their age difference.

“What are you doing? You haven’t greeted.”

Her mother’s words snapped Liz out of her daze.

Quickly spreading the hem of her skirt, Liz gracefully knelt down.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace.”

“The honor is all mine, Ariste… Miss.”

His tone peculiarly savored her name. Moreover, his gaze seemed a bit too scrutinizing for a first encounter. Was it because something bothered him? Or was that just his nature? Or both?

“Please, have a seat, Your Highness.”

With an air of seasoned composure, the Duke offered her a seat.

Liz pondered where to sit to be least exposed to the man’s gaze but concluded that either side looked the same.

So, she chose to sit next to Lilia.

“I cannot express how delighted I am that you have come.”

Her mother spoke in a voice as clear as beads rolling on a silver tray.

“Do you know? You are the first man His Grace has invited to this reception room in five years. Ho ho.”
Did you forget the last man I was set up with?

Or did you not consider him as a man because he wasn’t your own prospective groom?

As Liz took a small sip of her tea, smirking, a foreign comment flew into her ear.

“By the way, who is the woman you said you’d introduce me to last time? Clère?”

Upon Duke’s words, Liz looked up from her teacup.

Her mother was watching Liz.

Her smoothly raised lips parted, revealing her gem-like teeth.

“That’s my daughter. My eldest daughter.”