Chapter : 39
“No, I—”
Just as she was about to refuse, Evan smiled a little brighter.
“I assume Miss Somerset is aware that the middle class has been gaining quite a bit of status lately.”
The way he smoothly cut into her words made Jacqueline show a look of mild surprise again. There was still much she didn’t know about Evan.
“Yes.”
“They admire aristocratic society. They want to become part of it, yet at the same time, they’re afraid of actually entering it.”
“Are you talking about the complicated etiquette of aristocratic society?”
At that, Evan’s eyes sparkled. His interest in her seemed to rise once again.
Jacqueline instinctively leaned back slightly, belatedly realizing her slip. But Evan’s enthusiasm didn’t diminish in the slightest. Instead, he stepped closer to match her retreat.
As a result, the distance between them remained unchanged.
“Exactly. That’s why I’m planning to publish a book that teaches aristocratic etiquette to the middle class.”
“Ah….”
Jacqueline blinked blankly, as if struck by surprise. It was something she had never considered before. But it was undeniably an interesting idea.
“They want to enter aristocratic society. But in reality, they can’t easily challenge it because of the complicated etiquette. They know better than anyone that half-learned manners only lead to embarrassment.”
“I read an article recently saying that the number of middle-class attendees at balls is increasing exponentially. Businessmen who have accumulated wealth are either being invited to aristocratic gatherings, or even hosting their own.”
“That’s exactly it. And what they need in those situations is aristocratic etiquette—both men and women. This book will target that desire.”
“So you’re asking me to write it.”
Evan’s lips curved. A confident smile spread across his face.
“I can guarantee it. A book that systematically organizes aristocratic etiquette? It’ll be impossible not to buy it. It’s a business that caters to middle-class vanity. And if it succeeds, Miss Somerset will earn a considerable amount of money.”
It was an enticing offer. The old her would have nodded immediately.
But Jacqueline, having been through too much, didn’t fall for it so easily. High risk, high return. Big rewards always came with equal risk.
She narrowed her eyes and looked sharply at Evan.
“But in that moment, I’ll become a public enemy in aristocratic society. Think about why aristocratic etiquette has become unnecessarily complicated and burdensome. They have no intention of sharing their culture. To them, I’d be nothing more than a traitor.”
“Hmm….”
Evan let out a troubled sound. His expression suggested he was hearing something he had never considered before.
Jacqueline’s voice grew sharper.
“Or is that it? Because no one else would do it, you thought a ‘poor young lady with nothing to lose’ would be the perfect candidate?”
“That’s not it!”
Evan waved his hands in alarm. But Jacqueline’s piercing gaze didn’t soften.
“I simply thought this might help Miss Somerset. And… well, I did think it would be nice if I could see you more often under the pretext of the book.”
At his candid confession, Jacqueline’s expression softened. There was no doubt that he was being sincere.
When she thought about it calmly, Evan’s proposal wasn’t bad. In fact, it was beneficial to her. If the book succeeded as he said, she would earn a fair amount of money.
And it wasn’t even difficult work for her. It was no different from what she was already doing with Windsor—just putting her constant lectures into written form.
After finishing her thoughts, Jacqueline looked at Evan with bright eyes.
“Would it be alright if I use a pen name as the author?”
“!”
At that, Evan slapped his knee. His previously downcast eyes instantly brightened.
“That’s it! Why didn’t I think of that? Very well. Let’s do it that way.”
“But in that case, Mr. Knox might become a public enemy. Just for publishing such a book. You might even be pressured to reveal the author’s identity.”
Despite her warning, Evan smiled as gently as ever.
“Thank you for your concern, Miss Somerset. But every business carries risk. And that level of risk is already within my expectations. It won’t be a problem at all.”
Jacqueline looked at him quietly. She studied him as if seeing a new side of him.
Separate from whether she could accept his goodwill, Evan was a trustworthy man. A model of integrity and courtesy. It didn’t seem like he would ever betray her.
Finally, she nodded.
“Alright. Let’s do it. When should we draw up the contract? I prefer things to be in writing rather than verbal agreements.”
She smiled brightly as she said it. Evan narrowed his eyes at her, as if dazzled—just like the day they first danced.
Roman narrowed his eyes at Windsor. His suspicious gaze clung to Windsor’s face for a long time.
The carriage rattled as it moved, but Roman’s stare didn’t waver. Unable to hold back any longer, he finally spoke.
“What is that?”
His eyes pointed to Windsor’s hand. Something small, palm-sized, was held there.
The problem was that it was a neatly wrapped gift. Worse, the wrapping paper was pink—a color least suited to Windsor in the world.
“It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing. My lord, are you perhaps meeting a young lady without telling me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then what is it, exactly?”
With an annoyed expression, Windsor shoved the gift into his pocket. But Roman’s suspicious gaze didn’t go away. Instead, it shifted to Windsor’s pocket.
Trying to avoid the lecture, Windsor turned toward the window and smoothly changed the subject.
“Find another lawyer.”
“Yes.”
The lawyer they had met today hadn’t met Windsor’s expectations. With clearly parted hair, he had trembled like a leaf before the Marquess of Preston.
He had been so nervous that he couldn’t say a proper word until Windsor stood up.
—“I-I studied at the Royal University’s law faculty… with, with excellent, excellent, excellent grades…”
Thinking back on it, Windsor frowned and clicked his tongue.
“Can a man who stutters like that even argue in court?”
“Yes.”
Roman let out a long sigh. It had been a mistake to introduce a lawyer without proper verification, simply because he was said to be beyond the King’s influence.
Looking embarrassed, he added defensively:
“We verified his academic record and graduation results from an elite track, but I failed to speak with him in advance due to haste. I will ensure this does not happen again—”
“Stop.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes.”
At Windsor’s order, Roman quickly knocked on the carriage wall mid-sentence. The slowly moving carriage came to a stop.
Windsor’s gaze turned out the window. Noticing his fixation, Roman followed his line of sight.
Then he froze.
By the window of a café bathed in late spring sunlight sat a familiar woman.
“That young lady is….”
Jacqueline Somerset. She was sitting across from a young man. The two of them burst into laughter at the same time.
“A fine-looking pair,” Roman muttered absentmindedly before falling silent.
The air around Windsor had turned cold. Sharp, tense—like just before a departure to sea.
Gulp.
Roman swallowed without realizing it. This was the same atmosphere Windsor always had in battle—the one that earned him the nickname “Demon of the Black Fleet.”
Cold enough to cut skin.
Why?
Frowning, Roman quickly realized the reason and lowered his voice.
“I will find out who that young man is. He might be someone from the King’s side. It would make sense for His Majesty to be approaching a new tutor around this time.”
“Enough.”
“…Pardon?”
Roman’s eyes widened. Windsor turned back inside the carriage. His face was expressionless, frozen cold.
“Evan Knox.”
“……”
“That is his name.”
Roman quickly searched his memory. Nothing came up. The surname “Knox” felt vaguely familiar, but “Evan Knox” didn’t match anything in his records.
“Who is that?”
He asked again, but Windsor gave no answer. Just as Roman looked puzzled, Windsor cut off any further questions.
“Let’s go.”
Sensing the chilling atmosphere, Roman straightened and nodded. He signaled the driver.
The carriage began moving again.
Evan Knox.
Windsor repeated the name quietly.
A man completely opposite to him. A bright, effortless smile clung to his mind like a phantom.
And Jacqueline’s face—smiling brightly as she looked at him.
—“A fine-looking pair.”
The words were right.
If the Somerset family hadn’t gone bankrupt, those two might have been married by now.
Married.
“……”
Windsor clenched his fist without realizing it. He didn’t know why. He only felt a thick, unpleasant sensation creeping around his feet like damp fog.
He looked out the window again. Late spring sunlight bathed the streets in warmth.
In that light, Jacqueline’s face appeared again—smiling brightly at Evan like spring itself.
She had smiled at Windsor like that too.
A sudden tightness twisted in his stomach. Something hot surged upward.
“Roman Miller.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Investigate Miss Somerset more thoroughly.”
“Thoroughly… as in?”
Roman asked cautiously, uncharacteristically careful.
Windsor’s expression was far from normal.
His gaze was so cold it looked like it could tear an enemy apart on sight.