Chapter 84

‘Not like Axion would really need one.’

In the original story, Axion Valentino was portrayed as every bit as capable as the main male lead. Which meant he was unlikely to ever be injured, whether in the Hunt Festival or the imperial sword tournament. Even so, she intended to give her fiancé a handkerchief as a matter of courtesy.

Since this was her first time attending the Hunt Festival as an adult, she wanted the gesture to carry some meaning.

As she scanned the neatly arranged display of handkerchiefs with little more than mild interest, Larie, having returned swiftly from the counter, tilted her head slightly and offered a suggestion.

“Wouldn’t black suit the Young Lord Valentino best?”

Evelyn shook her head at once and picked up a white silk handkerchief.

“No way. He’s dark enough on the inside, so at the very least, the handkerchief should be white.”

Larie blinked in surprise, then let a soft, knowing smile curve her lips.

“Hmm, I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

When Evelyn responded with a slightly pouty retort, her personal maid simply lifted her shoulders in a light shrug.

“I just thought you must care quite a lot about the young lord.”

This girl… honestly. What kind of ridiculous nonsense was she even saying?

She deliberately ignored Larie’s mischievous gaze and called over the shopkeeper as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll take this one, please.”

︵‿୨ ₊‧꒰ა ཐི༏ཋྀ ໒꒱ ˚₊ ୧‿︵

At this point, wouldn’t it be better if he just didn’t accept it at all?

Evelyn couldn’t take her eyes off the handkerchief she had embroidered herself, and before long, a look of utter despair settled across her face. Even someone completely lacking in self-awareness would realize the truth if they received something like this. That was… just how hopeless her embroidery skills truly were.

‘So this is what it means to be all thumbs¹…’

She stared quietly at the messy black embroidery. She had stayed up for days and nights, only barely managing to finish the handkerchief on the eve of the Hunt Festival… And yet, when she showed the handkerchief to those around her, everyone had a different reaction.

“Wow! It’s a black cat!”
“Did you embroider… a crow?”
“The badger’s so cute, Sister!”

Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to tell them that the embroidery was supposed to be a black panther. The majestic creature, radiating an imposing presence by its very existence, was the symbol of House Valentino.

Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, she puffed her cheeks in frustration and clenched the poor handkerchief tightly in her hands. Not only were there loose threads everywhere, but every little imperfection seemed to leap out at her from every corner of the fabric.

‘How can I possibly give this to him…’

Letting out a sigh deep enough to swallow the earth, she rested her cheek against the table in defeat. Maybe worried by her sulking lady, Larie, who had been quietly pouring tea, spoke up cautiously.

“My lady, I actually think the design looks quite lovely.”

“Just a moment ago, you said it looked like a black cat.”

“Well, that’s… ahem.”

Unable to deny it outright, Larie cleared her throat and lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Maybe I shouldn’t give it to him at all.”

Whether she had heard her quiet muttering or simply sensed it, her loyal maid jolted in surprise and shook her head fervently.

“But you worked so hard on it! I’m sure the Young Lord would be happy with anything you give him!”

No, Larie. You don’t know Axion at all.

If anything, that man would spend half the day picking it apart stitch by stitch, just to find something to mock. Evelyn, already feeling the stirrings of a headache, pressed her fingers to her temple in slow, exasperated circles.

Knock knock—

“My lady, the Young Lord Valentino has come to visit.”

“What? What’s he doing here?”

She bolted upright from where she’d been slumped over the table.

It wasn’t one of his scheduled training days with Jactor, and she certainly hadn’t received any notice that he’d be visiting the estate. Just as her brows drew together in a frown, her loyal maid lightly swung her small, clenched fists back and forth in a gesture of encouragement.

“My lady, maybe this is your chance!”

¹ [ It’s an idiom which describes someone who is clumsy with their hands or bad at manual tasks, like sewing, crafting, or fixing things, just like ‘똥손’ in Korean. ] ↩