The railway stretches from Sterling City to the Provincial Capital Talmine. Behind Talmine are a few more small cities, and if you go north where the altitude gradually increases, there are only endless plateaus and mining cities. That blessed land where magic stones pour out with just the swing of a shovel was also the region that received the least benefit from magical engineering throughout all of Osdern.
There were various reasons for such results, but looking at the stuffy appearance of this Talmine castle, the Duke's dieval-like tastes seed to occupy one axis of it.
Magical engineer Cider Rus Claiborne, leaning against a cold garden chair, recalled the Duke's face as he proudly showed off his creaking old castle, and the corner of his mouth twisted upward.
When it ca to that kind of stubbornness, he was no pushover either. It's not common for a magical engineer who produces cutting-edge technology to hardly use any magical devices except basic facilities in his mansion. Ordinary people don't understand, but what value could their understanding possibly have?
However, unlike Cider who made such decisions through sufficient value judgnt, the Duke was rely a simple machine-hater, a magic-hater. Poor Alastair Renfrew, despite being born as the Duke's son, must have grown up counting rats crawling on cold bricks in this crumbling old castle.
Cider's eyes narrowed as his thoughts reached that point. What reason could such a Duke have for clinging to magical engineer Cider Claiborne?
No, wait. More precisely, he had caught hold of a 'wealthy count from Nine Holder.' Despite the flaw of being a magical engineer.
For the past week, Cider had only wasted ti being dragged around by the Duke's hand. The vote count was sufficient, and he had confird the faces of the parliant mbers who had agreed to cast opposing votes. Now that dealing with the cunning snake was over, his plan to leisurely attend the academic conference and clear his head while observing new technologies had all gone to waste.
The castle was already packed with people from influential northern families invited by the Duke. The Duke had quickly finished his parliantary business and then held parties for the entire week. It seed that had been his purpose from the start. The reason was unknown. When people worried about what would happen if the list was leaked, the Duke shalessly claid that trees are hidden in forests.
Though unwilling, as soone staying in this castle, he couldn't help but attend. Still, there must have been so thought behind it, as the ball proceeded without any outside guests coming and going, only among the guests staying within the castle.
Only parents with daughters were excited. After only seeing the limited marriage prospects of northern high society, when marriageable noble n—titled nobles at that—flowed in, it couldn't be helped. They pushed their daughters' backs, urging them to catch at least one of them.
The twenty-five-year-old young count with a wealthy territory, tall stature, and beautiful appearance was the finest quality among them, but to the ladies of Dunbarton high society, he was like a quince hanging from a tree. The fragrance was good, but it couldn't be plucked.
"Where on earth are you, Lord Avondale!"
Because he had been designated as the partner of that extrely botherso lady, Miss Dianella Renfrew, the Duke's niece. This involved neither Cider Claiborne's consent nor even that Miss Renfrew's consent.
Dunbarton high society had a strict hierarchy. The mont the Duke handed over his niece's hand to Cider Claiborne, saying, 'This is my niece whom I cherish like a daughter. She's shy and can't dance, so I'd like to ask a favor,' it was simply decided that way.
He sohow endured it for a day or two. But even though his business was roughly finished, they hardly gave him a chance to return. Alastair Renfrew, who seed to be blocking things out of conscience, heard so news yesterday and his face turned red and blue before he ran out of the ballroom.
When the crisis of being stuck with the Duke's nineteen-year-old niece lood again, Cider had fled to the garden altogether.
'Politics is truly botherso.'
If he had known that refusing the Duke's invitation to stay at the castle would result in being stuck with a botherso nineteen-year-old brat, he wouldn't have co near Dunbarton even if it ant losing the mines to the governnt.
"There you are! I've been looking for you!"
The Duke's niece, Miss Dianella Renfrew, had shown passionate interest in the young count from Riton from the first day. Dianella's interest, who had shown shy smiles to Cider Claiborne as he acted indifferently and barely maintained courtesy, beca an active romantic offensive on the second day, stubbornness on the third day, lingering attachnt on the fourth day, and the anger that erupted on the fifth day was completely exhausted by the sixth day. Thus, on the seventh day, Cider could finally cool his head a bit...
He had thought so, but apparently not. The bright red flushed face was clearly not due to the cold. It was ti to receive the anger poured out while embracing expectations he had never given. This was sothing that happened often around age twenty.
The teary-eyed lady approached and slamd her fist on the table with a bang. The ashtray rattled on the table.
"Am I that terrible? Do I really not interest you at all?"
Generally rude, but still unable to completely ignore the duty of being a gentleman, Cider Claiborne averted his eyes to the air and rubbed his cigarette in the ashtray. In short, he showed that he didn't want to converse while not completely ignoring her.
"I'm telling you for the seventeenth ti that I have a fiancée, Miss Renfrew."
The young lady shot back with a face that looked ready to explode at that rude attitude.
"I know you're lying to get rid of ! Uncle investigated everything... Oh."
Right. It's sothing no one knows, to the extent that it wouldn't be caught even in an investigation. Should he have spread rumors in all directions? Cider, his pride wounded, answered with a crooked smile.
"You're not impressive enough to warrant bringing up a non-existent fiancée to refuse you, Miss Renfrew."
Rather than impressive, she was terribly botherso. In fact, he didn't even have enough interest to get rid of her with such lies.
Right now, his interest was more focused on why the Duke Dunbarton, a magic-hater and guardian deity of regionalism, was pushing his niece onto a magical engineer count whose main area of activity was Nine Holder.
To be a bit more honest, he wasn't really interested in that either.
Since he had finished all his business in Dunbarton, he now wanted to clear his head and think about matters more important to him. About a certain beloved magician and the nurous problems that magician had brought. When he might be able to cool his feelings and properly look at Esperanza, what decision he would ultimately have to make, whether he could handle that decision himself... such montous questions.
But right now, because of that damned Duke, his feet were tied and he could neither co nor go. For a week now, he had been pushed as a prospective fiancé candidate for a woman he had no interest in, half-dancing boring dances and then running away.
At this point, he was ready to just cast a vote in favor of mine nationalization to make the Duke Dunbarton suffer.
"Lord Avondale! Are you listening?"
"No."
Cider answered a beat late. In fact, he had forgotten that Dianella Renfrew was still here. He didn't know why she wasn't leaving and kept clinging on. He should have made his rejection clear enough for her to understand.
With a deep sigh, he abandoned the last remaining courtesy.
"Miss Renfrew. I'd like you to just leave. To be honest, you're quite botherso."
"...You're really being too much. How rude."
The sharp voice beca wet. It wasn't just from surprise at his rudeness, and in fact, about half seed to be from shivering in the cold. But he had no intention of adding the kindness of lending her clothes. If she's cold, she'll go inside. Cider said indifferently, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.
"Since rude
will continue with the thoughts I want to have while facing the cold wind, wouldn't it be good for both of us if Miss Renfrew went inside appropriately to warm up? Stop bothering
with your pestering."
Dianella's pale face instantly turned red as if it would burst. Rising sha pushed away the shallow fondness.
"I, I didn't co looking for you because I wanted to either!"
With a face as red as her hair, it wasn't very convincing. Still, it was fortunate that she was belatedly picking up her fallen pride. Since she was starting to care about her pride, if he ignored her a little more, she would probably leave.
"Since Uncle introduced you to , I have to do my best."
"Ah."
"Uncle cherishes , so he was trying to introduce
to a good marriage..."
Even Cider, who had intended to ignore whatever Miss Renfrew said, had no choice but to ask back at that point.
"A man who has a fiancée?"
Dianella Renfrew hesitated.
"He, he probably didn't know."
In fact, the Duke probably wasn't unaware of Esperanza's existence itself. Nor the rumors that followed them. Since she was nominally just a ward, he probably thought it didn't matter how the two of them were actually involved.
With that thought, his mood sank further into the mire.
"Let's say that's the case. But Miss Renfrew, did that uncle who terribly cherishes you ntion that the other party has been cohabiting with so lady for nearly a year? You're not going to say you didn't know that either, are you? It's a story that all of Nine Holder knows."
The red face instantly turned white as a blank sheet of paper.
"Good heavens, cohabiting?"
The girl's eyes quickly scanned Cider up and down.
"How utterly rude. What are you imagining?"
"I'm not imagining anything!"
"Whatever you imagined is probably roughly correct. Well, now you have sufficient reason to go spit on that disgusting uncle's face, don't you?"
Now that he had left Riton, his eyes had long since failed to find pleasure. There was no Esperanza, and no research to imrse himself in.
If he could see the Duke Dunbarton's niece spit in the Duke's face as paynt for bothering him by forcibly dragging him into a marriage he had no interest in, he felt he could let it slide without much ill feeling.
But well, that probably wouldn't happen.
With those words, Cider completely cut off his interest in Dianella and took out a new cigarette to light.
Dianella Renfrew bit her lips tightly. In Dunbarton's narrow high society, with her status as the Duke Dunbarton's niece and her pretty appearance, Dianella could easily gain anyone's favor. There were cases where soone she liked didn't choose Dianella, but she had never been ignored so rudely before.
Earlier, he had at least pretended to put out his cigarette in front of a lady, but now his intention to completely pretend she didn't exist was obvious. He had already taken so machine from his pocket and was rolling it with his fingertips. She couldn't identify what it was, but at a glance, it was clearly a micro-chanical device not available in stores.
'I know it's hopeless. But if I go back now...'
Dianella wavered between her stubborn uncle's scolding and being treated like a transparent person, then chose being treated like a transparent person. Even if not this man in front of her, for Dianella who had no Lady title to find a good husband, she needed the arrangent of her uncle, the Duke Dunbarton. So she needed to show the Duke that she had done her best. At least she shouldn't give the impression of being chased away in less than 5 minutes.
However, the day was cold, and the winter garden had nothing to see even with lights lit. Dianella began twisting her body within a minute.
Whether unfortunate or fortunate, in front of Dianella was sothing resembling a conversation partner. Though he seed to have forgotten Dianella's existence.
What topics might interest this man? Magical engineering? Dianella knew nothing about the aesthetics of bolts and nuts, screws and gears. She was at a level where she was confused about which of bolts and nuts was the screw-like object. So there was only one thing she could say.
"Excuse , Lord Avondale. I won't bring up marriage talk, so couldn't you tell
about your fiancée?"
Sure enough, a look of 'why are you still here and not gone' returned. Once Cider Claiborne started being rude, he spoke without restraint.
"Not interested."
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