The Invitation from Aisen

The boys Rose’s age, who had never once stepped foot outside their own estates, knew how to do little else besides swaggering about as if they were someone of great importance. I pray to God they grow up, she often thought.

When she was younger, she had dreamed of a handsome, dashing man. Just like in the books: a man with a dazzling appearance who was gentle only to her. A man of distinguished lineage and exceptional talent, whose kindness was reserved solely for her heart.

But at eighteen, she was practically an adult. She had grown too old for such childhood fantasies.

It was around that time that the letter arrived at Muhel.

The contents were simple enough. Rose had already received several letters from distant relatives offering to help with her debutante. The problem, however, was the seal pressed upon this one. The elegant handwriting was unmistakably the signature of the Marchioness of Aisen, and the crest stamped clearly in wax was the emblem of the House of Aisen.

My goodness.

Rose couldn’t even close her mouth as she let out a silent scream.

Heaven help me! Oh my—Goodness!

The Muhels and the Aisens were such distant relatives that one had to trace the family tree back for generations to find a connection. The gap between the two houses was so vast that even a thread-like link to a great noble of the capital was considered a singular honor for the Muhels.

The letter from Aisen turned the entire estate upside down. It was only natural. At the time, it felt so much like a dream that Rose wouldn’t have been able to keep her wits long enough to reply if it weren’t for Veronica’s help. It took ten full days to pack her bags, book a train, and secure a carriage to take her from Bessen to the capital.

She had never imagined she would debut in the capital. To be honest, Rose had expected she would never set foot in the capital in her entire life. Even now, she suspected she might be dreaming. Would she wake up and find herself rising from her bed as usual? A mundane morning where Samuel would find her and laugh, saying, “Oversleeping again, Rose?”

“Whoa…”

Rose was usually praised for being sensible, but she couldn’t stop an exclamation from escaping her lips as she left the platform and entered the station proper.

The newly constructed Bessen Station was built in a style completely different from those in the East. A pleasant fragrance wafted from somewhere, and even the sound of her heels clicking against the floor felt novel. Rose scanned the high ceilings, the murals, and the delicate carvings on the pillars with a dazed expression. She had thought Arvis was grand when she first saw it, but even that didn’t dare compare to Bessen.

Then again, the cost of traveling to Sektel versus Bessen was nearly double.

Sektel, the original final stop for trains coming from the East, and Bessen, the new station, weren’t even that far apart in distance. The issue was the astronomical land prices of the West, where a single square inch of earth cost as much as gold.

She had heard whispers that the Dylan family had invested most of the funds for it. She didn’t know the exact amount, but at this rate, it looked like they would recover their principal investment before a year was out.

It finally felt real—she was close to the capital. Rose gripped her bag handle tightly. The weight of the papers tucked into her tunic felt heavy against her chest: the letter bearing the Aisen seal and the letter of introduction written by Veronica.

When she first received the word from Aisen, she had been overjoyed. She had hugged the scented letter and jumped for joy. But as time passed, worry had begun to creep in.

How did the Aisens, who had never been in contact her whole life, know it was time for her debut? Even if they knew, wasn’t offering such a helping hand too much to be considered simple goodwill? Her thoughts had spiraled into an endless loop. Samuel, too, couldn’t hide his concern, urging her until the very end: “If they ask too much of you, don’t worry about the consequences—just come home.”

Even if they did demand the impossible, she wouldn’t have the power to refuse, but the sentiment alone made Rose’s eyes sting with tears. And then there was Veronica. Even for her, writing a letter of introduction to a popular tailor in the capital couldn’t have been easy. To do so much for a sister-in-law she had known for less than a year…

Standing near the exit, Rose sniffled and looked around to see where she needed to go to catch a carriage.

Perhaps it was because she had reached into her tunic with one hand to pull out a handkerchief, or perhaps because she had been distracted by her surroundings for a fleeting second. Rose only realized her hand felt empty after something brushed past her side. A second later, a scream erupted.

“Stop right there!”

Do you have any idea what’s in there?!

Had she ever run this hard in her life? Never.

She had been out of breath for a while, and her legs were trembling. Even with low heels, running in stiff dress shoes was no easy feat. Above all, it was unheard of for a noble lady, who had been taught all her life that modest behavior was a virtue, to be sprinting to catch a pickpocket herself.

But Rose bit her lip and forced strength into her legs.

Though she had the important letters tucked away on her person, she couldn’t carry all her valuables that way. She could afford to lose her clothes and shoes, but all her cash and bank notes were in that bag. Dammit! If she didn’t catch him, she wouldn’t even have the carriage fare to reach the capital.

“Son of a—!”

A curse tumbled from her mouth. She didn’t even have the energy left to yell “Stop!” anymore. Besides, if the guy was the type to stop just because someone told him to, he wouldn’t have been a pickpocket in the first place.

The gap wasn’t closing. If anything, he was pulling further away, out of reach.

Why now? Why me?

Tears of frustration threatened to fall, but she didn’t have the luxury of crying. The faces of Samuel, Veronica, and her father flashed through her mind. Then came the face of her mother, whom she knew only through portraits. Mama, I’m sorry. How am I supposed to get to Aisen in this state? Why did I space out? Veronica warned me so many times to be careful.

Just as she felt her heart was about to burst, it happened.

“Aaah!”

With no strength left to navigate the turn into the alley and unable to slow her pace, Rose’s body teetered. Great, now I’m going to ruin my clothes, too. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for a hard impact, but something snatched her out of the air.

It took a moment to register that the firm weight around her waist was someone’s arm, and that she was leaning into someone’s chest. Realizing she was being held instead of sprawling disgracefully in the alley, Rose snapped her eyes open in shock.

The moment she became aware of her position, she pushed against the chest to pull away. She knew a thank-you should come first, but she was too flustered to think of it. Her face burned with the realization of how pathetic she must look. Cooling her cheeks with the back of her hand, Rose finally looked up to offer her gratitude.

But the moment she saw the person holding her, Rose forgot what she was about to do.

So this is what people mean when they say their breath was taken away… Her mouth hung open, and she couldn’t seem to close it.

“Are you alright?”

Good heavens.

It was a mercy she was too stunned to speak. Had she been able to talk, she would have likely just repeated “Oh my god” over and over like an idiot.

Light blonde hair swayed gently, and his exposed forehead was pale and fair. His smooth cheeks looked as though they had been carved from ivory, sleek and cool. Come to think of it, the chest she had touched was firm. She thought she could smell a faint, pleasant scent lingering in the air…

Rose let out an unconscious sigh. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t beautiful. But the best part, without a doubt, was his eyes.

I should have studied my art history harder… She lamented her lack of knowledge; she couldn’t think of anything she knew that could serve as a fitting comparison for the color of his eyes. Were they like wine? No, they were bluer than that. They looked a bit like a purple sapphire she had seen once…

Seeing Rose lost in her own world, the man furrowed his brows. He didn’t look offended so much as he looked like he was wondering, ‘Is this woman sane?’ She should have snapped out of it by then, but Rose was still half-dazed, thinking things like, ‘My… even his scowl suits him so perfectly.’

Ultimately, the man decided she was a lost cause. Keeping a light, supportive hold on her waist, he naturally turned her around. Rose followed where he led. As she climbed the steps, she didn’t even realize she was being ushered into a carriage.

“Call the guards. We have a pickpocket.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Young Master. The title felt different when applied to him than it did to Samuel. It was a title that suited him almost too well. Rose’s expression went hazy again. No, no, this isn’t the time for this. But it really does suit him. It sounds as perfect as a line from a novel.

Seeing Rose drift off again just as she seemed to be gaining clarity, the man spoke.

“Send word that I’ll be a little late. I think I need to have her see a doctor.”

Doctor? A doctor…

Rose chewed on the word as it finally clicked, snapping her back to reality. That meant—even though he was being remarkably polite about it—he thought she had lost her mind.

“No, no!”

Her desire to deny it was so strong that her voice came out louder than intended. After blurting out what sounded like a shriek, Rose covered her mouth and dropped her gaze to the floor.

At this rate, there was no way to deny she was a strange person. Her face burned with a heat incomparable to before. Even without a mirror, she knew exactly how she looked. She was undoubtedly flushed a deep, disastrous shade of red.