With an odd expression, he shamelessly lifted his chin instead.  

 

“Why wouldn’t it be mine? As far as I know, Miss Cordelia’s eyes and hair are pledged to me. Ah, or are you about to say something cute and cheeky, like verbal agreements without paperwork hold no legal weight?”  

 

His voice was smooth and cool, devoid of inflection, sending a shiver down her spine as she frantically shook her head.  

 

“Ah, no. I’m… grateful for it.”  

 

“Oh? You’re even grateful now?”  

 

Even as he sneered mockingly, there was no room for resentment. 

 

Fidgeting with her nails, at a loss for what to do, he clicked his tongue briefly.  

 

“You must really be hungry. Seeing you gnaw at yourself like this.”  

 

Is it tasty?  

 

By now, it was impossible not to know. This ill-tempered man seemed to thoroughly enjoy teasing and toying with Cordelia. 

 

It stung a little, but if his leniency came at that price, there was nothing to be done.  

 

For Cordelia, prostrating herself before the strong was easier than any other social tactic. 

 

So, as long as they didn’t cross a certain line, she could comply endlessly.  

 

Had they not touched what was dearer to her than life—her mother and grandfather’s memories, their legacy, their affection, her minimal dignity—she might have remained trapped in that mansion, drowning in habitual lethargy until death. 

 

It’s fine like this, she might not have even realized she was suffocating in defeatist misery.  

 

If that was contagious, then yes. That was exactly right.  

 

Her slightly gloomy mood vanished entirely when the butler brought out fluffy scrambled eggs, soft white bread, fresh blueberry jam, and warm milk sweetened with honey.  

 

Unbeknownst to her, Cordelia loved dishes that melted tenderly in her mouth. 

 

The warmth and softness spreading luxuriously over her tongue brought an incomparable comfort. It was a sweet texture devoid of any aggression.  

 

Noah sipped his tea, occasionally watching her cheeks puff up as she busily chewed, her face utterly relaxed. 

 

From then on, he didn’t touch alcohol at all.  

 

Cordelia glanced at the melting ice in the expensive liquor as she drank her milk, but thought nothing more of it—perhaps he simply didn’t want to drink anymore.

 

Once the ship had settled somewhat, Cordelia finally regained her senses and glanced at Noah, who was flipping through a book without saying a word. His weary face, framed by gold-rimmed glasses, made him look more like a scholar than a soldier. 

 

Though he must have felt her gaze, he showed no reaction.  

 

Feeling awkward, she fiddled with her nails but stopped when she remembered his earlier remark and quickly dropped her hands. 

 

Peeking sideways, she caught the title of the book he was reading:  

 

《Legends of the Ancient Sea and Mermaids》

 

Mermaids?  

 

Thud—

 

The book snapped shut. She flinched, her shoulders jerking up. She watched as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 

 

Even the faint marks left by the glasses on his nose seemed like an elegant adornment, as if they were part of his charm. When his gaze met hers—his eyebrows slightly furrowed—her toes curled involuntarily.  

 

“Feeling suffocated?”  

 

Huh? Thankfully, this time, she didn’t voice her confusion aloud. 

 

Though his words lacked a subject and object, Cordelia managed to piece together the meaning and shook her head. Noah recited flatly,  

 

“You said you felt suffocated. Because you can’t go outside.”  

 

She shook her head again. 

 

‘I’m fine.’ At her response, he let out a short breath.  

 

“Come out with me tomorrow.”  

 

Before she could react in surprise, he added belatedly, ‘I have a place to go.’  

 

🫧

 

Her eyes flew open.  

 

Cordelia stared blankly at the now-familiar cream-colored ceiling before placing a hand over her pounding heart. 

 

Like a bookmark slipped into a closed book, last night’s memory resurfaced.  

 

— “Come out with me tomorrow.”

 

She swallowed hard. Pressing a hand against her restless chest—whether from anxiety or anticipation, she couldn’t tell—she rolled her head to the side. 

 

‘Where does he want to go? Surely he doesn’t mean… he can’t wait a year and wants to quickly gouge my eyes out?’ 

 

That couldn’t be it… right?  

 

As she lay there lost in wild thoughts, a knock came at the door. The maid Jane peeked in, tilting her head at the sight of Cordelia wide-eyed in bed.  

 

“You’re up early! What’s wrong?”  

 

“Just… wondering if I dreamed something.”  

 

Jane, perhaps thinking her mistress wasn’t fully awake, tilted her head but didn’t press further. 

 

Instead, she handed Cordelia—who was sluggishly sitting up—a cup of warm water with a drop of mint oil and placed a silver basin beneath it.

 

After rinsing her mouth familiarly and spitting it out neatly, Jane, who had cleared away the bowl as usual, instead of offering freshly drawn water, helped Cordelia, who was rubbing her eyes, to her feet. 

 

‘Why, why?’ 

 

Dragged along without understanding, Jane energetically declared,

 

“They said you’re going out with the master! We must hurry and prepare!”  

 

Only now did she truly feel awake.  

 

Before she could even utter a sound, Cordelia was submerged in a steaming porcelain bathtub, letting out a soft groan.

 

The heat made her blood circulate, causing her body to tremble slightly. 

 

As the maid sprinkled rose petals, herbs, sea salt, and lavender oil into the bath, Cordelia, dripping water, asked:  

 

“D-Did Lord Noah really say he’s taking me out?”  

 

“Yes. He mentioned it during breakfast. The butler told us to prepare you, miss.”  

 

At the cheerful reply, Cordelia silently sank up to her nose. 

 

All sorts of thoughts flooded her mind. ‘He has somewhere to go? Where exactly?’

 

Resurfacing just enough to expose her lips, she cautiously inquired.

 

“Did he say where?”  

 

“Hmm? He didn’t mention that.”  

 

“I see.”  

 

‘Surely he isn’t taking me out just because I seemed stifled… Could it be about the principal debt?’

  

But there was truly nothing left to seize as collateral now.  

 

Glancing at her silver hair being scrubbed with foam, she sighed. 

 

If Noah Tudor were even slightly less of a gentleman—if he had given her that uniquely sticky once-over gaze—she might have braced herself for the worst.  

 

In truth, Cordelia was penniless, with nothing but her family’s hollow name and mountains of debt. 

 

If a man of his standing wanted to take her, could she even refuse?  

 

From their very first meeting, he had killed a man, never hiding his cruel, cold nature. He enjoyed taunting, mocking, and bending things to his will—his personality had sharp edges. 

 

Yet, at the same time, he was straightforward and, in his way, polite.  

 

‘Contradictory, I know. But yes, despite it all, he is a gentleman.’  

 

“Ah, the master also asked if you dislike seafood.”  

 

Hearing such a considerate question about her tastes, she naturally recalled the delicious midnight snack she had devoured the night before.

 

Cordelia had never been treated like this in her life. 

 

Soft, sweet things that were gentle and non-stimulating. 

 

A man who waited for her, sipping tea instead of alcohol, reading a book so she wouldn’t feel self-conscious—even the face he made when asking if she was hungry.  

 

Suddenly, her heart began to race, and she squeezed her eyes shut before plunging her face into the water. A sweet fragrance bloomed all around her, soft and billowing.  

 

“Oh dear, miss! The water is hot!”  

 

Was it because she hadn’t taken her medicine? Her chest tightened.  

 

Jane devotedly adorned Cordelia. In this mansion without its mistress, there were silk empire-waist dresses, gloves, bonnets, parasols, and comfortable lambskin shoes—items of unknown origin, all prepared for her. 

 

When Cordelia awkwardly sat at the vanity, Jane applied fragrant oil to her hair, combed it through, and braided it into an elegant style.  

 

Watching her pale face gradually transform with a soft, radiant glow—just enough to be lively without being overwhelming—Cordelia was amazed by the maids’ makeup skills. 

 

As Jane dusted finely crushed pearl powder over cheeks smoothed with rosewater cream, she spoke with pride.  

 

“The previous family head loved his wife so dearly that no one handled the finest luxuries for ladies as well as the Tudor family. Perhaps only the imperial family could compare? Lady Anais disliked the heavy makeup favored by noblewomen like Katisha, so she often used products from the Eastern imperial court. The silk and pearls the madam favored were of the highest quality—Lin and Zeneka were so exceptional that the former family head secured exclusive rights to them.”  

 

Jane’s face flushed with pride and excitement as she chattered about the Tudors. 

 

She was likely referring to Noah Tudor’s parents when speaking of the former family head and his wife. She praised them endlessly, calling them the lovers of the century, devoted to each other, and beautiful people.