Chapter 4
Regaining her composure, the dazed Lilien shook her head slightly.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Such talk is a lot for an inexperienced young lady to hear. We were rude.”
“Really, I’m okay, Countess.”
“Alright, no more teasing. Now, shall we all listen to Miss Frederick’s poetry?”
Behind the glass greenhouse of Baltar Palace, Eisen Frederick recited:
“Wherever the wind lingers, there your whispered words…“
The warm sunlight brightened Eisen’s golden hair, and her classic navy court dress suited her perfectly.
Just by wearing it, that style was bound to become the next fashion.
“Miss Eisen Frederick will surely become the belle of society.”
“She’s already like the Empire’s red rose.”
Lilien lowered her head, fidgeting nervously with her fingers.
Though comparing oneself was not a good habit, Lilien couldn’t help feeling small next to Eisen, who had become wildly popular since her debut, even though they were the same age.
Where Eisen was humorous and outgoing, Lilien stammered when all eyes were on her—a pathetic young lady indeed.
Until recently, she couldn’t mingle with the peer young ladies who exchanged flower rings, and instead, she remained under the parasol surrounded by older noblewomen.
“Miss Frederick also believes love is pure.”
“Yes, and maybe Clarisse is a young lady of about that age.”
“If that’s true, I must be pitiful for falling so hard for such a woman’s romance novel.”
Lilien shivered and quietly asked,
“…Why?”
“Because I was moved and captivated by the words of a young woman who only knew half a love.”
“That’s right. When I read the bedroom scenes, I completely lost interest. Even her earlier works felt doubtful. It might be written by a woman who’s never been in love. There’s no true emotional impact.”
Eisen finished the poem’s final line:
“May your lily-like touch come and stay with me.“
The garden party attendees responded with refined applause.
“Who will take such a modest and lovely young lady?”
Lilien sighed deeply, quietly watching Eisen smile in response to the cheers. Then, Eisen’s gaze shifted behind Lilien with a composed expression.
Suddenly, a flush spread across Eisen’s cheeks. Curious, Lilien turned around.
“Cairn?”
From a distance, Cairn Etienne Headington approached Lilien de Bermore, extending his hand.
His black hair shone with a blue luster, looking unusually soft today. His sharp, sculpted face showed both wildness and boyish charm.
Those sitting at the same table as Lilien glanced at him, regardless of age.
“Long time no see, Miss de Bermore.”
Wasn’t that just three days ago?
Lilien wanted to retort but held back, aware of the many eyes on them. Feeling drained from the ladies’ gossip, she secretly welcomed Cairn’s arrival.
She gave him a wink, silently hoping he’d rescue her here, and he replied with a mysterious smile.
“You two have been inseparable since childhood and still get along well.”
Mrs. Ashton teased.
“I’ve also been close to Mrs. Ashton since we were young. A man’s virtue is to keep beautiful women near, isn’t it?”
Cairn skillfully countered her words and beckoned Lilien with a subtle wave.
“Shall we go, Miss de Bermore?”
Cairn was a sly fox, using his talents to rescue Lilien from uncomfortable situations time and again.
Lilien politely thanked the ladies who had kept her company and took Cairn’s hand.
As they headed toward the glass greenhouse of Baltar Palace, Lilien exhaled slowly the breath she’d been holding.
“Perfect timing.”
“Did I come to rescue you at just the right moment again?”
“Yes.”
Lilien’s expression was troubled as she walked cautiously under Cairn’s escort.
“Lilien, are you okay?”
“Huh…?”
“Your face is red—like it’s about to burst.”
Lilien brushed her red cheek with her free hand. As he said, her face was burning hot.
“It’s because you came to me, and everyone’s staring at me. It’s em-embarrassing.”
But her blush wasn’t from embarrassment.
The ladies’ suspicions had been exactly right.
Just as Mrs. Ashton said, Clarisse—the author of [Love Covered in Filth]—was indeed a virgin who had never been in love.
How did Lilien de Bermore know?
Because she was the mysterious author, Clarisse herself!
The shame of her secret being exposed made her face burn fiercely.
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