"Let me tell you, those servants did it on purpose. They just wanted to see you and my brother-in-law make fools of yourselves," Maya whispered sharply, her eyes still darting toward the retreating housekeeper. "They knew exactly who you were."
Evan and Elara shared a quiet look. They weren't naive; they knew the cruelty of the social ladder. They simply lacked Maya's taste for a public brawl.
"Okay, the matter is resolved. Let's not talk about it anymore," Elara persuaded, squeezing her sister's hand.
Maya exhaled a long breath, her tense shoulders finally dropping. "Fine. I understand."
Not long after, a group of Maya's colleagues from the Yamen called out to her from a neighboring table. With a final protective glance at Evan, she excused herself to join them, leaving Evan and Elara alone at their table in the inner courtyard.
"I originally wanted to come over and join in the fun, but I almost got kicked out. It's funny, in a dark sort of way," Evan sighed, leaning back.
"That's just how it is," Elara said, her voice tinged with a bit of nostalgia. "A rich family's banquet has nothing to do with people like us. Usually, we're just meant to be background noise. I remember when Maya was still little... whenever there was a banquet in town, we would quietly sneak in just to be diners. Back then, we wouldn't have dared to even step into a wedding hall like this."
"You did that as a child?" Evan asked, genuinely surprised.
Elara smiled helplessly. "In those days, I didn't have much pride. My only goal was to make sure Maya ate well. I was content with scraps, but Maya... she always wanted the meat. She wanted the delicious things. Once, she sneaked right into the center of a wedding and got caught red-handed while stuffing her face."
"What happened then?"
"What else? I took the punishment for her. She got into so much trouble, and I was always the one wiping her nose. It was painful back then," Elara said, rubbing her forehead as if she could still feel the phantom stings of past scoldings.
"It's different now," Evan said, reaching out and patting her thigh under the table. "Now it's Maya's turn to help you."
"Well... yes," Elara whispered, a soft blush touching her cheeks.
The conversation was cut short by the sound of gongs. The procession had returned. Sona Black, the "silly" daughter of the household, walked into the yard in her heavy, ornate wedding silks. Beside her was the groom, his face obscured by a traditional hijab, looking regal in his wedding suit.
"This silly daughter... she's actually quite pretty," Evan remarked, his eyes lingering on the bride's polished appearance.
"It's just an illusion," Elara countered, her voice turning sharp and dissatisfied. "That girl is usually stupid and sloppy. You're only seeing the layers of powder and silk."
"True," Evan mused, "but with that kind of money, you can afford to have people clean you up around the clock. Wealth covers a lot of flaws."
"You!" Elara huffed. Seeing Evan praise Sona—even if it was just about her looks—triggered a flare of jealousy she couldn't quite hide. She turned her face away, her lips thinning into a pout.
Evan caught the expression and felt a wave of amusement. "What's wrong with you? Why do you have such a big opinion of a fool?" He leaned in, teasing her. "Are you actually jealous of a simpleton?"
"I am not! Who is jealous?" Elara snapped, though her crimson face betrayed her.
"No?" Evan's eyes darkened with a playful, hungry light. He shifted closer, his hand sliding from her knee up toward the soft skin of her thigh, his fingers caressing the smooth fabric of her skirt.
Elara gasped, her eyes widening as she looked around the crowded courtyard. "You... what are you doing? There are so many people!"
"You said you weren't jealous. Consider this my way of appeasing you," Evan whispered, his voice low and husky. He moved his hand more wantonly, hidden by the heavy tablecloth. "Besides, we're under the table. No one can see a thing."
Elara's heart hammered. She was terrified of being discovered, yet the secret thrill of Evan's touch made her pulse race. To cover her flustered state, she grabbed a cup of wine and downed it in one go, her eyes shimmering with a mix of nerves and excitement.
Her gaze drifted back to the wedding party. Mr. and Mrs. Black were seated on high chairs, watching the ceremony. Mrs. Black was grinning broadly—an expression that seemed a bit too predatory for a mother-in-law.
"Why is Mrs. Black staring at her son-in-law like that? It's creepy," Evan noted, his hand momentarily stilling.
"Humph. She's probably targeting her next prize," Elara snorted coldly.
"Targeting? You mean she wants to... with her own son-in-law?"
"Yes. Why else do you think she's so happy? You think she cares about Sona? Sona has been married several times before, but none of those men ever gave her a child. Yet Mrs. Black always seems to have a new baby every few years. As for who the father is... well..."
Evan raised his eyebrows, memories of his time in the Black house surfacing. He had heard the whispers. "Good grief. That old woman has to be seventy or eighty. How can she still be having children?"
"Don't underestimate the wealthy," Elara said. "In this world, having many children is a sign of power and skill. The more you have, the better your legacy."
Evan looked at her curiously. "And you? How many children do you plan to have?"
Elara froze, her blush deepening until it reached her ears. She rubbed her hands together nervously. "Of course... the more, the better."
Evan gave her thigh a sharp, reprimanding pinch. Elara took a sharp, pained breath. "What was that for?"
"Nonsense! 'The more the merrier'? You'd exhaust me to death trying to support that many!" Evan complained.
"I would support you! I'd work twice as hard!"
"Bah! How many can you support with your little stall? One or two is plenty. You want to kill us with work?"
Faced with Evan's genuine irritation, Elara shrank back slightly, though her traditional heart still clung to the old ways. "If... if we can't handle it, we could always let Maya help raise one. Give her a child to look after."
Evan pinched her again, harder this time. "You want someone else to raise our baby? Maya won't stay single forever; she'll have her own children to worry about!"
"Oh... right," Elara muttered. She then puffed out her chest with newfound resolve. "Then I will work harder! I'll make more money, build a mansion, and ensure we can raise a whole house full of children. I'll make it no problem at all!"
Evan just stared at her, speechless at her stubbornness.
The ceremony concluded, and the groom was led away to the bridal chamber. Per tradition, Sona, as the bride, began to make the rounds to toast the tables. When she reached the inner circle and spotted a familiar face, her eyes lit up with a simple, childlike joy.
"Evan! Mr. Evan! You're back!" she shouted, pointing at him with a wide, toothy grin.
The courtyard went deathly silent. Every guest turned to stare at the handsome man at the commoner's table. The atmosphere turned suffocatingly awkward.
Evan, however, didn't lose his cool. He stood up calmly, picked up a sweet pastry from the table, and stepped toward the bride. "Miss Sona, be good," he said in a soft, coaxing tone, handing her the treat. "Your husband is waiting for you back in the house. You shouldn't keep him waiting."
"Back in the house?" Sona took the cake, scratching her head stupidly. She let out a happy giggle. "Yes! My husband is home! I'm going to find him!"
Without another word, she turned and ran toward the bridal chambers, the crisis averted by Evan's quick thinking.