"You seem to be in deep thought, Lord Evan."
A sweet, feminine voice pulled me back to reality. I turned, my gaze settling on the woman who had just arrived—her presence like a quiet ripple in the otherwise still garden.
She wore a pristine white dress that caught the sunlight, making her stand out against the lush green backdrop. Her long brown hair was tied back with a simple ribbon, a faint, polite smile gracing her lips. Every movement she made carried the unspoken precision of noble upbringing—graceful, deliberate, and refined.
"It's been a while. How have you been, Lord Evan?"
Emilia's bow was subtle but practiced. Behind her stood a maid—tall, poised, and silent, her long legs and professional bearing giving her the air of someone who could handle far more than just tea trays. A slight frown flickered across my face as I watched her. It seems the protagonist's love interest is not only a beauty, but she also has a beautiful maid. What a cliché.
I straightened, offering the appropriate greeting.
"Indeed, it has been a while, Lady Emilia. How was your journey?"
"It was a smooth one," she replied with a nod.
"Good to know. Please, have a seat. My staff is eager to serve you, Lady Emilia."
…I said, managing to keep my voice steady. Inside, I was thinking—smooth as fuck.
My resolve, nothing out of the ordinary—there was no panic in my heart, no stutter in my voice. Nothing that would give away the difference between me and the previous Evan. I was a professional at this point. I was him. I was Evan. And Evan was a calm, cool, and collected gentleman.
I pulled out a chair for her to sit first.
"Thanks," she said, settling down with practiced grace.
I took the seat opposite her. "So, what will you have first? Tea, some sweet snacks… or perhaps a fine chat with me?"
"Fufu, then how about some tea first?"
At her signal, the servants moved to pour.
"It's early," she said with a faint smile, "so I thought perhaps Lord Evan would find this little arrangement… frustrating."
"No, quite the opposite. I find it pleasant to see you in the morning."
"Fufu, is that so? And how's the academy? I heard you've gathered yourself quite the little friend group."
"Just a circle of acquaintances, to be exact," I corrected.
"Oooh, but I've heard you've been spending quite a lot of time with them."
I gave a small shrug. "I like their company, well enough." I could already see where this was heading, so I gave a subtle signal to the servants. They understood immediately and withdrew, leaving only Roselyn and Emilia—her long-legged maid—behind.
"So, Lady Emilia," I said lightly, "should I expect today's topic to be about my friends, or perhaps… a little more about ourselves?"
"Lord Evan," she said evenly, "I think you know exactly why I brought it up."
"Well, if you want to be exact, you'll have to put it into exact words."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Hah… Evan, are you really going to be like this? I thought you were much more of a noble man. I didn't expect you to sink so low—to be a bully. To bully Lucas, to be exact."
"Ah… that," I said, leaning back. "I'm not sure where you heard such things, but I wouldn't call it bullying. Just… the sort of friendly talk boys usually have. Nothing more."
"You expect me to believe Lucas said it himself—admitted—that you were the one bullying him?"
"Did he?" I asked casually.
"Well… not exactly. But I've seen the signs—bruises on him when there was no training, the times when his shoes and clothes were always dirty, the way he looked down and tried to hide when he saw you and your group. So I pressed him to speak, and he confirmed it after that."
I smirked. "Quite the Sherlock you've become, my lady."
"A… what?"
"So, you're angry about that, huh?" I sipped my tea. "Alright then—what can I do to make my lady's mood better again?"
"Are you seriously considering that?"
"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"
A slight pause. "…Then, how about you promise not to bully Lucas again?"
"Yes, I will. I can swear in the name of my maid if you want."
"Young master…" Roselyn muttered awkwardly.
"No need for that," Emilia said.
"Then how about I swear on your maid's name? What's your name, beautiful long-legs?".
"E–Excuse me?"
"Evan, please don't joke around."
"I was serious. But fine—either way, I promise. Happy now?"
"Yes. And… you'll also need to apologise to Lucas."
I paused, letting the silence settle in, then let out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha! You have more sense of humor than I do, Lady Emilia… Or don't tell me—you're actually serious about that?"
I searched her eyes for even the faintest flicker of mischief. Nothing. Just firmness… and the smallest trace of awkwardness.
"Hash, my lady," I exhaled, "do you truly have no place for my dignity that you'd ask your own fiancé to kneel before a commoner?"
"I didn't say you needed to kneel," she replied.
"Does that make any difference?" My voice was calm, but each word carried weight. "Apologizing to a commoner is no different than kneeling to one. For reference, I've only apologized once in my life— and that was to my late mother. After that, no one… not even my father.** So tell me—what makes you think I would now?"**
"I… I didn't know that. I thought you promised you would listen."
"Well," I replied coolly, "promising to listen doesn't mean I agreed to anything. I didn't expect you'd try to bully me with words, my lady."
She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words—especially not to argue with me.
"Listen, Ema," I said this time more gently. "We have all day to argue… or we can enjoy this fine morning with something much more meaningful. Don't you think?"
"My estate staff were so happy when they heard you were coming that they didn't sleep a wink. They made all the sweets and snacks themselves. Right, Roselyn?"
"Ugh… oo, ye—yes, you're right about that, Young Master."
"See? Roselyn's probably crying inside, watching us bicker over something so trivial."
Of course, she wasn't. But if I kept dragging her into this, she eventually would be.
"But Evan… that wasn't something trivial—"
"Look at that. Tears are already welling up. Oh, poor Roselyn."
"Evan, please stop that."
"Yes, Young Master, please… or I might actually start crying," Roselyn said with a weak, nervous laugh, as if unsure whether to play along or retreat.
"Okay, okay, I'll close the topic. Let it be known that I, Evan Ravenshade, keep my promises—that I will not bully Lucas… whatever his last name is, I forgot."
I went on, solemnly placing a hand over my heart. "And I swear this in the name of my maid Roselyn and the maid standing before me… with the most beautiful long legs."
"Evan."
"Please, young master, don't embarrass me more…" Roselyn muttered, turning red.
"Alright, that's the final note. Now—how about some sweets, my dear lady?"
After that, the conversation returned to normal. The words flowed easily as I kept the mood light. We spoke about daily life, how the estate was doing, the average day at the academy and many things we usually do…
Did your bra size increase or not?
—No, I didn't ask that. But I wanted to. Unfortunately, I'm playing the role of a gentleman right now.
Our little morning date eventually came to an end. We took a short walk back toward her carriage; the time had come to part ways.
"It was a pleasant time spent, Lord Evan," she said with a soft smile.
"The pleasure was all mine, my lady," I replied, slipping back into a formal tone. Funny how we could talk casually the whole time, only to return to titles the moment things wrapped up.
The coachman was already on the driver's seat, greeting me with a nod. I returned the gesture. Her maid held the carriage door open, and I took Emilia's hand to help her step up.
"Thank you for everything, Lord Evan. I think… I didn't ruin the mood today."
"No, no, not at all. For me, every second was a pleasure. Even my heart is beating fast right now—want to hear?" I said, guiding her hand closer to my chest.
"Okay, I believe you. Just… not in front of everyone," she said, her cheeks tinged pink.
I chuckled softly. "Then perhaps next time, my lady—when we meet again." I lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
"Yes, my lord."
She stepped into the carriage, her maid following behind—long legs moving with effortless grace.
"Damn, those legs of her."
"Young master, I also have long legs," Roselyn remarked from behind me.
"Yeah, don't care," I muttered.
With that, I headed back to my room. Too much gentleman act for one morning—but hey, you do what you have to.
There's still time. The academy's on break right now, so… what should I do? Adjust? Explore? I've got plenty of options—too many to decide. I guess I'll just go with whatever my mood decides.
Same goes for when I return to the academy. But for now, let's leave the rest for later—this gentleman is tired for today.