ocean-life Chapter 7
Chapter 7
“Really, I don’t know them! I’m hearing their names for the first time, and I’ve never even seen their faces before!”
“Sure, sure.”
Wow, that look screams, “Not buying it.” This is seriously unfair! I’d pass a lie detector test, I swear!
But hey, shouldn’t you two be explaining yourselves too?
I couldn’t stand their condescending “Let’s see how far this lie goes” glances, so I decided to fire back.
“Well, neither of you have explained why you’re here either.”
Both of them flinched simultaneously.
Looks like they didn’t expect the tables to turn.
“First of all, sis, you’d snatch away my dinner if you thought I was gaining weight. So why are you meddling with desserts at an outdoor event? Especially when you hate being under the blazing sun.”
“...I think I’m starting to tan. I’ll head back now. Enjoy yourselves.”
Natalie quickly retreated.
Next up, Tristan.
Preemptively defensive, he spoke up before I could.
“Ahem. What exactly are you implying? I’m a man who loves social gatherings.”
“Allow me to clarify that statement. As my sister mentioned earlier, Your Highness loves gatherings because they have ladies in attendance. So why are you here, at an event without even an official dance?”
“...Doris Redfield. I hadn’t realized it before, but you’re quite like your sister.”
“Well, we’ve hardly ever had long conversations, Your Highness. It’s only natural you didn’t notice.”
It was a hastily made excuse, but it wasn’t untrue either.
Tristan couldn’t deny it.@@@@
And I wasn’t done pressing him.
“So, Your Highness, what brings you here today? Judging by your sudden appearance, it seems you stopped by my family’s estate first. Is there something urgent?”
“Well...”
Last time, he outright said he’d never dance with me.
So what now? What fresh garbage excuse did he come up with to show up here today?
But for once, Tristan’s infamous tongue of doom hesitated. Why?
“Your Highness, truly, whatever you say, I’ll be fine with it. My feelings for you won’t change, so please, speak freely—”
“...There might be a chance.”
“Pardon?”
“Really, maybe, possibly, on a very low probability... I might, someday, ask you for a dance. And when that happens, I came to say you shouldn’t feel the need to refuse.”
Not quite garbage, but maybe recyclable trash?
As I stared dumbfounded, he poured out more nonsense.
“That’s all I had to say. Don’t concern yourself with me anymore. Just as I won’t with you!”
Before I could ask anything else, Tristan spun on his heel and strode off. His silver hair glinted under the light filtering through the spring foliage, making him impossible to ignore despite his command.
What on earth was that about?
“Did his mom scold him for flirting with other women while he’s engaged?”
That seemed like the most likely explanation.
What a universally annoying guy. His personality’s so bad, even his looks can’t make up for it.
Part of me wanted to run after him and shout, “Let’s break off the engagement! So we can stop bothering each other for good!”
But—
“No.”
Someone like him is still a good catch.
But their chatter was cut short.
“Look, they’re about to cross paths!”
Everyone’s attention shifted.
Arthur and Maria, freshly freed from their respective conversations, were now walking on a collision course.
All eyes were on them.
They noticed each other. Their hesitant steps betrayed recognition.
I knew the truth. Arthur and Maria—childhood friends and first loves who shared warmth in the frigid north eight years ago—were bound to remember each other.
They would soon...
“...Huh? Why are they...?”
“They’re really walking away?”
“Not even a hello? Do they know each other?”
“If they did, wouldn’t she have greeted him? You don’t ignore someone from a ducal family.”
They didn’t get it.
Those two ignored each other on purpose.
The clueless gossips, frustrated by their failed predictions, started shifting the blame.
“Maria was rude! She should’ve at least greeted him.”
“She’s not a duchess yet. He’s still a viscount.”
“Still, as the lady present, she should’ve—”
“Excuse me.”
I cut them off.
“Debate all you like, but unless you ask them, you’ll never know. Isn’t something else more important?”
“What?”
“I won the bet.”
“...Oh.”
The group let out a collective sigh of disbelief.
“Miss Redfield, how did you—”
“Does it matter? Now, I’d like an apology for your earlier remarks.”
“Remarks?”
“You know, calling me naive and saying I needed to learn how to attract suitors.”
“Oh, we meant no offense!”
“Funny how those who gamble on others’ lives are so kind to themselves. Luckily, I’m not as naive as you’d like to think. But if you apologize, I might let it slide.”
Their eyes widened, not in admiration but shock. The once-docile Doris Redfield was acting out of character.
The neighborhood’s favorite punching bag was gone.
Not that I enjoy arguments. I’m not even sure how to fight properly.
But I know whose name to borrow.
“Can’t apologize? Then, as my dear sister Natalie Redfield would say—”
“Sorry!”
Before I could finish, the loudest mocker quickly bowed his head. The others followed suit, or slipped away while they could.
I memorized their retreating backs.
One of them asked hesitantly.
“Miss Redfield, how did you guess?”