“Why didn’t I think of that? I almost placed something meant for the landing in the wrong spot.”
“Indeed, one cannot match the Marquise’s discernment.”
“I told you not to try to match it. It’s a matter of talent. How many times have I said that?”
Charlotte hid a faint smile behind her champagne glass.
The pale green champagne held several Luhas wild strawberries—fruit available only at this department store during this short season. The small red berries floated like heart-shaped ornaments, delicate enough to pass for decoration.
“Champagne with Luhas wild strawberries. I still can’t believe the one who arranged for this distribution was only twenty-one. It seems discernment runs in the family.”
Naturally, the conversation shifted—from praising Charlotte’s taste to praising Oscar, and then to praising Charlotte again as his mother.
As always, Charlotte spoke little. She preferred to listen, responding only with the occasional graceful smile.
It was then—
“By the way, why is the Marquis still unmarried?”
At that single question, the bright atmosphere cooled at once.
Several ladies who were already familiar with Charlotte immediately glanced toward the speaker.
The woman sat slightly apart from the group, perched at the edge. She looked like a noblewoman visiting the capital for leisure, someone who had simply wandered into the exhibition.
The others subtly leaned back into their seats, distancing themselves. They rolled their eyes to glance at Charlotte.
Oscar’s marriage.
Everyone was curious.
No one wanted to ask.
So, they all secretly hoped someone tactless would do it for them.
A child’s marriage was the parents’ responsibility. Which meant the Marquis’s marriage should have been the Marquise’s responsibility.
And yet he was neither married nor engaged.
That left only two possibilities: either she had failed—or she simply could not.
Everyone knew it was the latter.
“You are so charming. I imagine proposals must be pouring in. As a mother of a son myself, I envy you. I’m also curious how many good offers you’ve received…”
Charlotte slowly tilted her head toward the woman seated farthest away.
Usually, that alone was enough to make someone retreat.
But this tactless lady held her gaze, as though she truly expected an answer.
Charlotte let out a soft laugh and opened her mouth.
“You have many questions, Madam.”
“Well, actually, I recently received a marriage proposal for my son—”
“Look here.”
Charlotte cut her off gently.
Still smiling, she raised her right index finger. The tip of her neatly polished nail caught the light. She drew a small circle in the air, gesturing toward the exhibition hall. The bewildered lady followed the motion and looked around.
Charlotte spoke calmly.
“None of the works displayed here have prices listed. Do you know why?”
The woman blinked, confused. She had asked about marriage. Now Charlotte was speaking about art.
Charlotte took a relaxed sip of champagne before continuing.
“It’s because there is no need to set a price. For those with the eyes to recognize true value, price is meaningless. For those who cannot… they lack the ability to pay.”
“……”
“Madam, did you purchase any artwork today?”
Only then did the woman’s face flush red.
Charlotte’s smile remained gentle—almost warm. As if to melt everyone.
“Then you must not have had any questions either?”
The meaning was clear. ‘Don’t you dare be curious when you lack the ability to pay.’
If you lack the means, you have no right to inquire.
The tactless lady rose hastily and disappeared in embarrassment.
Charlotte watched her go and murmured lightly,
“This is the drawback of an open space.”
She chuckled.
The others, who had kept their distance while observing, quickly resumed their chatter as though nothing had happened. They laughed. Changed topics. Smoothed the air. Charlotte accepted their words politely, pretending not to notice their thoughts.
Just as the atmosphere began to recover—
“Mother!”
Sabine finally returned and took the seat that had remained empty.
With her arrival, the mood didn’t merely brighten. It shifted entirely, like the turning of a season.
The ladies exclaimed almost in unison.
“Oh, Young Lady!”
Sabine wore a deep green velvet dress. Though unadorned, it outshone the others, its richness matching the lustrous of her golden hair. Shone like pure gold.
“You are beautiful today as well, Young Lady.”
Sabine clasped her hands demurely and offered a charming smile.
“Thank you for always saying so.”
After another round of compliments, she felt her mother’s gaze sweep over her with quiet scrutiny. Sabine paused, then slipped her arm through Charlotte’s and addressed the ladies politely for their indulgence.
“Excuse me. I need to whisper something to Mother for a moment. Please forgive me.”
The ladies reacted at once, amused by her sweetness.
“Oh my, of course, dear.”
“We envy you, Marquise, to have such an affectionate and beautiful daughter.”
“Let’s all turn away.”
They obediently turned their heads in exaggerated courtesy.
Leaning closer, Sabine whispered to her mother. When she pulled back, Charlotte frowned slightly.
“Your brother already gave you that expensive gift. You received something extravagant from His Majesty as well. And now you expect a gift from me too?”
Sabine widened her eyes and raised her voice in mock surprise.
“Mother! I was whispering. How can you say it so loudly?”
Laughter broke out around them.
“The day your mother suffered to give birth to you is your birthday,” Charlotte replied evenly. “It isn’t unreasonable for you to give me a gift instead.”
“Oh, Mother!”
Sabine pouted, and the laughter only grew louder.
Charlotte shook her head as if exhausted.
“It will grow too noisy if we stay. I’ll leave first.”
Sabine rose with her and linked arms tightly. The others teased them fondly, saying daughters always demanded gifts from their mothers.
The glamorous mother and daughter exited the lounge together, naturally drawing every gaze.
They walked along the fifth-floor railing. From the highest floor, the people below looked small and distant, moving like pieces on a board.
Once they were far enough from the lounge, Sabine stopped.
“Must you always make me look childish?”
“It’s not that you look childish,” Charlotte replied calmly. “It’s that you’ve become someone others envy.”
“You could simply say you’re stepping away. Why do you always use me when similar things happen?”
“Use you?” Charlotte’s tone sharpened slightly. “Don’t you think there’s a reason?”
Sabine, who had been expressing her dissatisfaction towards her mother, fell silent when her mother’s reaction turned sharp.
The air between them cooled at once.
As if by silent agreement, the two, who had been standing facing each other, both turned toward the railing.
Sabine, suppressing her dissatisfaction with her mother, looked down over the floors below like a queen surveying her domain. The department store’s open structure stacked the levels like tiers of a tower. People moved through the glittering interior, swallowed by light and decoration.
Then something caught her eye.
Something that cut through the irritation clouding her thoughts.
There are things in the world that stand out at a glance.
An object.A painting, work of art.A person.
Even among thousands, some things seize attention without effort.
She saw something like that now.
Amid all the brightness and ornament, something solitary and out of place.
“Mother. Look at that.”
She spoke quietly.
Charlotte was already watching the same spot.
“The woman with the red ribbon in her hair?”
The elegant Marquise’s eyebrows rose and fell, barely visibly.
A dark and heavy oil painting canvas. Was that what a painting looks like when someone has lightly added color with colored pencils without the artist’s knowledge? The woman possessed a uniqueness that could disrupt even the cold atmosphere. The contrast alone drew the eye.
Mother and daughter followed her with matching gazes.
And somewhere within the dazzling department store—
another pair of eyes was watching the same woman.
—