Chapter : 31
Benjamin soon understood the reason. It reminded him that before Jacqueline had arrived, he had been the same.
No matter how many cicada shells there were, they were never allowed to be collected. That wasn’t something a noble child should be doing.
—Thank you, Teacher Somerset.
Benjamin offered her a sincere bow.
“Hm?” Jacqueline tilted her head, then smiled warmly.
She leaned down slightly and whispered softly.
—Glad we saved the ship with just one cicada shell, right?
That wasn’t exactly what it meant, but Benjamin still nodded silently again. He liked Jacqueline. He didn’t want to see her disappointed.
—Yes, Teacher Somerset.
At that moment, Oakley approached with an awkward expression.
Benjamin tensed and quietly clenched his fist. If he ignored Teacher Somerset one more time, he wouldn’t tolerate it again.
I’ll knock his jaw off!
Unaware of Benjamin’s thoughts, Oakley hesitated for a long moment before speaking gruffly.
—Hey, your tutor’s actually pretty decent.
—She’s Teacher Somerset.
Benjamin straightened his shoulders as he answered. He looked as if he were showing off a treasure more valuable than cicada shells.
A pragmatic-looking girl with puffed cheeks from candy stepped forward.
—I’m Olivia. You can call me Oli.
—Nice to meet you, Oli. I’m Benjamin.
—Can I come play again next time?
—Of course, Oli.
Benjamin nodded solemnly. Hearing this, the other children immediately shouted.
“I want to come too!” “Me too!”
Olivia stepped closer as if getting to the real point and lowered her voice.
—Can we go collect cicada shells together next time?
—Of course, Oli. Teacher Somerset and I often go on expeditions. You can even join us as a companion.
—I want to be a companion too, Benjamin!
—Me too!
The children quickly gathered around him. Surrounded in an instant, Benjamin looked flustered, but he didn’t seem to dislike it—he smiled shyly.
Jacqueline watched the scene with a rather pleased expression.
“The children left the mansion and kept begging their parents to come back to the Preston estate. Was everything really alright?”
Windsor’s question was casual, but Jacqueline, feeling slightly guilty, avoided his gaze.
“Well, it wasn’t anything that serious. I just helped Benjamin make friends.”
She calmly set down her teacup. A small clink echoed between them.
A faint smile slipped through her lips.
“Perhaps even something as small as a cicada shell might one day protect Benjamin when he becomes the Marquis of Preston.”
At the sudden mention of cicada shells, Windsor’s brow twitched slightly. He raised his whisky glass and looked at her.
Conversation with Jacqueline was like popcorn.
Pop. Pop.
For a moment, it even felt like kernels were bursting inside a pan.
“Olivia is the granddaughter of the Chamberlain Dowager. Don’t forget she was once called the queen of high society. Her connections rival even the royal family. She’ll be a good friend to Benjamin.”
“A cicada shell, huh.”
Windsor raised an eyebrow, deepening the lines on his forehead. Jacqueline stared at him absentmindedly.
Even his wrinkles looked alluring. Especially at night—his nature became more exposed. Not refined politeness, but something rougher, more unpolished.
She couldn’t easily look away.
They locked eyes without meaning to. The heavy silence only strengthened the entanglement of their gaze.
Darkness swayed. The oil lamp on the table barely illuminated their faces.
Windsor’s face was cast in shadow. His long eyelashes shaded his eyes, and the bridge of his nose cast a sharp line across his cheek.
The atmosphere that had been warm moments ago tightened instantly.
There were times like this—when the man who had been speaking gently felt like someone else entirely.
“….”
Jacqueline unconsciously held her breath, clenching her fist so tightly her nightclothes crumpled in her palm.
Silence sharpened.
A strange chill ran down her spine. Windsor’s gaze felt almost physical, like a tangible force. She felt like a butterfly caught in a web.
Her heart sank. If she kept looking at him, she felt as though she would disappear into ash.
Just then—
“Evan Knox.”
His voice spoke the name of her former fiancé.
Jacqueline’s eyes widened slightly.
“Why Evan Knox?”
Windsor paused. He hadn’t intended to say it. The name had simply slipped out.
He looked at her green eyes and fell into thought for a moment.
What was he trying to say? That Evan Knox was inexperienced? Or oblivious enough not to understand rejection?
He shook the thoughts away.
“It’s nothing.”
Jacqueline studied him briefly, then took a sip of tea, swallowing what had gathered in her mouth.
The tense air softened slightly.
She lowered her gaze. Through this banquet, broken connections had been restored—both good and bad.
What storms would come next, no one knew.
Well, no one expected I’d become a poor noblewoman overnight either.
Then—
Drip. Drop.
“…Huh?”
Lost in thought, Jacqueline slowly lifted her head. Rain had begun tapping against the window.
The faint intermittent sound quickly turned into a steady rhythm.
“It’s a relief it started raining after the banquet ended. We almost ruined Benjamin’s birthday.”
Windsor glanced at her.
“Wasn’t it Miss Somerset who saved the ruined banquet?”
“Pardon?”
“The piano performance.”
“Ah…”
Jacqueline lowered her head slightly as she understood. A faint shadow of her lashes stretched across her cheek.
“I’m really glad we didn’t ruin Benjamin’s birthday.”
Then she stood, holding an oil lamp.
“Shall we go? What about you, Lord Preston?”
“I’ll be going as well.”
Windsor rose slowly. For a moment, he felt something like regret, though he didn’t know for what.
They left the room and walked side by side down the hallway.
The corridor was swallowed in darkness. The lamp barely lit a narrow path ahead.
Jacqueline didn’t hurry, and Windsor matched her pace.
A quiet kind of gentleness.
She realized there were different kinds of kindness.
Some were like early summer sunlight—warm from beginning to end. Others, like early spring sunlight—hidden within a chill.
Windsor was the latter.
Just as she smiled faintly—
Flash.
The world brightened instantly.
“!”
Then it vanished.
The corridor fell back into darkness.
Before she could react, a thunderclap shook the world.
“Eek—!”
Windsor quickly covered her mouth.
Jacqueline raised the lamp toward his face with trembling hands. He leaned back slightly.
But she persistently held it up.
He removed her hand from his lips. The soft sensation lingered on his palm, like pudding—warm, soft, unreal.
“You don’t choose ideal times to scream.”
“…Haah.”
Relief escaped her as she recognized his voice. But she still didn’t lower the lamp.
“Lord Preston?”
“I’ll escort you to your room.”
“Th-thank you.”
Then—
Boom.
Lightning flashed again.
Jacqueline instinctively flinched and rushed to his side, grabbing his robe tightly.
Windsor glanced down. Even in the dark, her pale fingers stood out as they clung desperately to his robe.
He looked at her. She stood rigid, staring ahead as if bracing for anything.
And yet her fingers trembled.
He let out a small laugh and stepped forward.
Jacqueline quickly matched his pace, occasionally checking his face with suspicion.
“Lord Preston?”
Each time she called his name—as if making sure he was still him.
“I’m here.”
Only then did she breathe out in relief.
Windsor found it amusing. Or perhaps pitiful.
What on earth was she so afraid of?
It was only thunder.
But then—
“Aah!”