Chapter 9

* * *

The coachman driving the carriage-for-hire had experienced a day marked by both good and bad fortune. It was unlucky that he’d nearly involved his noble passengers in an accident, but lucky that the situation had been resolved without anyone facing serious harm. Even more fortunate was that the noble riders had decided to spare him severe punishment.

He was new on the job, and the two distinguished passengers—a woman with captivating silver hair and a gentleman of notable reputation—had made him overly eager to please, leading to the near mishap. He vowed never to make such a grave mistake again.

He couldn’t resist stealing glances at Laertes. Unusual for someone of such a noble stature, the nobleman had taken the reins himself. He controlled the carriage steadily with his muscular arms, his black hair casting shadows over his face and his violet eyes intensely focused ahead.

Sir Laertes was well-known throughout the country, not just for his noble lineage and striking appearance but also for his honorable character and exceptional skill as a swordsman. As the vice-captain of the Glamis Order, he was a young hero favored by the king and frequently entrusted with important missions along the nation’s borders.

“Sir Laertes?” a timid voice called from inside the carriage.

The coachman, trying to seem like he was minding his own business, stole another glance at the nobleman to see his reaction.

Laertes slowly turned his attention from the distance in front of him to the woman. The carriage was small, the kind popular among the well-off middle class. The coachman’s seat was directly adjacent to the cab, which facilitated easy conversation between the driver and passengers with just a turn of the head.

The woman’s voice, radiating a grace and elegance that impressed even the coachman, called out again, “Have I… upset you?”

“No,” Laertes responded. His voice was firm but devoid of warmth, seemingly disheartening the woman inside.

Given the nobleman’s reputation for chivalry toward women and those in need, the coachman was puzzled by his curtness. Despite being a man of few words, he was known to make those around him feel comfortable.

However, he did come across as unapproachable. His strong jawline and sharp nose, combined with a rigid demeanor cultivated through daily sword practice, meant he could appear quite stern if his face was not softened by a smile. His dark eyebrows and the depth of his violet eyes only intensified this impression.

“I refused the marchioness’s dinner invitation because I didn’t want to inconvenience them, but had I known doing so would cause trouble for so many people, I wouldn’t have insisted,” the woman said. Despite Laertes’ somewhat insincere response, she ignored the tense atmosphere and continued to converse with him warmly.

The woman’s silver hair, floating around her delicately like a spider’s web, glowed even in the carriage’s dim light. Her gentle nature was obvious in her soft green eyes. The coachman silently admired her beauty, which was so unlike the celebrated prima donnas in the newspapers. She seemed to be from another world entirely.

Yet despite being in the company of such a striking woman, Laertes’ conduct was notably strange. It had been that way from the beginning. Under normal circumstances, he would have calmly handled the urgent situation, securing the carriage-for-hire and directing it for the woman. Now, however…

“It’s not your fault, Elodie.” His voice was low and dry, as if he just wanted the conversation to be done with.

The woman inside the carriage paused, seemingly weighing her next words. “May I ask you something, Sir Laertes?”

The man’s eyebrows twitched slightly as if he were bracing himself for a serious inquiry. It was an instinctive reaction, like an animal readying itself to dodge a lethal blow.

The silver-haired woman played with the fabric of her dress, her eyes lowered, seemingly oblivious to his reaction. “That woman earlier, the one who saved the child…”

The coachman observed as Laertes visibly tensed.

“…Do you know her?”

“Why do you ask?” The nobleman’s response was sharp and cold. Those close to him would have been taken aback by the open hostility in his voice.

Yet this woman, not yet familiar enough with him to notice these nuances, merely smiled shyly as she mistook the cold tone for his characteristic reservedness. “I sincerely wish to express my gratitude to her. I was amazed. She remained so composed in the face of the situation… It was admirable. I would not have been able to move, myself.”

Laertes’ eyes momentarily clouded over with some complex emotion but immediately cleared. He briefly observed the woman’s innocent smile, then glanced down at the tips of her fingers as they clutched the fabric of her dress. His face quickly returned to its usual expressionless state.

“I don’t know her well,” he finally responded.

“Oh… I see. Then I suppose I’ll have to look into her myself if I want to thank her—”

“She’s a commoner. Getting involved with nobles like ourselves would only make things more complicated for her.”

The woman’s innocent green eyes widened in surprise and lost some of their shine. “Is… that so? Well, she did mention that it would be a troublesome matter. That makes sense.”

“You shouldn’t concern yourself.” His voice bordered on cruel.

The coachman found the whole situation strange. It was his error that had caused the incident, but thankfully it had reached a good resolution. A courageous woman had prevented a child from being run down, and fortunately, no one was hurt. The two passengers had even exited the carriage to apologize to the child and the mother and had sought out the commoner woman who had intervened.

Busy with calming the horses and managing the carriage, the coachman hadn’t heard their entire exchange, but he caught the gist of it. His female passenger had attempted to offer the commoner a reward, but she had firmly declined. Laertes had hurried his companion back into the carriage, citing their tight schedule, and had briefly exchanged words with the commoner before hopping back onto the carriage himself.

Nothing particularly unusual had happened. The common woman’s calm response to the accident and her firm rejection of any reward was somewhat unexpected, but it was not hard to understand. Many commoners chose to steer clear of entanglements with nobility. In the end, everything was smoothed over—nobody was hurt and all had been resolved with little incident.

However, Laertes had opted to sit beside the coachman and take the reins instead of sitting in the cab. He remained quiet for the rest of the trip, his distant gaze and the peculiar focus in his eyes suggesting that he was deep in thought. He had never offered reassurance to the lady with him, though she may have been upset by what happened.

Stranger still was his adamant refusal to allow her to offer any compensation. Given the Windroses’ reputation, a reward would have been significant enough to tempt any commoner. Perhaps the woman had publicly declined out of a sense of propriety or was too embarrassed to accept anything from a noblewoman. It may have been more appropriate to offer more discreetly at a different time or location.

But Laertes was unwavering and resolute in discouraging the reward, almost at the expense of the well-meaning lady’s honor. He had seemed determined to prevent any further interaction between the two women.

The coachman amused himself by mulling over his suspicions. When he had caught a glimpse of the commoner woman, he saw she was dressed in modest attire and carrying a basket. But her poise and features seemed far beyond her simple status. Still, she was hardly comparable to the quiet passenger seated behind him.

Making a gesture of kindness toward the common woman would not have been problematic. It was puzzling that anyone would so strongly advise against it, especially the respected vice-captain of the Glamis Order.

Dismissing these thoughts as overly speculative, the coachman concentrated on the carriage’s path. They were fast approaching their destination.

When they arrived, Laertes skillfully dismounted to open the carriage door and help the woman alight. She blushed like a quivering daffodil, delighted and shy due to her unfamiliarity with such attention. The image of the beautiful lady being gracefully assisted down by the knight made the scene seem like a painting.

After collecting his fare and settling back into his seat, the coachman dismissed his earlier musings as absurd. Laertes Hope was escorting the lady with all the manners of a perfect gentleman and noble knight, after all. The nobleman had likely just felt slightly embarrassed about the near mishap that occurred during their carriage ride. Content with this conclusion, the coachman departed.

As the evening light began to wane, it illuminated Laertes’ profile. He stepped into the building, his expression stoic and impassive as though he were concealing something. Like a closely guarded secret, there was an object stored in the pocket of his coat—an apple, shining deepest red.