Chapter 13: Getting Angry Is My Job
—There was a misunderstanding. I apologize.
Surprisingly, the message on the card was an apology.
Classie frowned. Why was he suddenly apologizing?
Of course, Kishin had clearly misunderstood something. But Classie hadn’t been able to explain herself at the time.
Yet now, for Kishin to take the initiative and apologize, claiming he had misunderstood—it didn’t make sense. Did he even know what he had misunderstood?
—You may return this bouquet to the guardhouse if you wish. As a gesture of my apology—and for the sake of your honor, Miss Classie—I will publicly reject myself.
* * *
In truth, this was what had happened.
Dernick had realized the misunderstanding between himself, Kishin, and Merran through Merran. Being sharp-witted, he immediately informed Kishin of the situation.
Just as Classie had suspected, Kishin had a stubborn tendency to trust only what he had personally seen and heard.
So when Dernick told him about the misunderstanding, Kishin hesitated for a moment, because the image of Classie he had “personally seen and heard” didn’t match the reality.
His prejudice against her, formed due to the bouquet incident, didn’t align with the Classie he had actually met and gone on a date with.
The Classie he had seen in person seemed like an honest woman. She didn’t come across as unintelligent, but neither did she seem like someone who schemed behind the scenes.
And just at that moment, Dernick came along and revealed the truth.
“We misunderstood something, Kishin. That bouquet wasn’t returned to you as an act of revenge by the arms dealer lady.”
“What do you mean?”
“Miss Merran sent it back to you herself. It turns out she thought my name was Kishin. There must have been some misunderstanding when she came to the guardhouse.”
“!?”
Having just given Classie a harsh lecture, Kishin stared at Dernick without even blinking. His mind was spinning from what he had just heard.
Meanwhile, Dernick simply shrugged and summed it up nonchalantly.
“That doesn’t mean Merran is at fault, though. She only sent the bouquet back because she mistakenly thought you had given it to her. She had no intention of insulting you. This whole thing just got tangled up.”
Kishin pressed his fingers to his forehead.
“So… Classie Kalashi… didn’t do anything from start to finish.”
“Ah. Isn’t that so?”
“But I went to see her, and…”
Kishin trailed off.
“What did you do when you went to see her?”
Even in this situation, Dernick’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. He didn’t know the details of what Kishin had said to Classie or what the two of them had done together.
But he had been dying to find out. After all, Kishin wasn’t the type to meet a woman one-on-one, let alone go on a date. Dernick knew this better than anyone.
Kishin glared at him fiercely.
Dernick kept insisting that it was no one’s fault and just an unfortunate mix-up, but in reality, both he and Classie had suffered because of it.
Kishin had been dragged into a sudden scandal, while Classie had been insulted by him for no reason. The ones who had misunderstood everything were that damn Dernick and Miss Merran.
Unable to contain his anger, Kishin kicked Dernick out.
But throwing Dernick out didn’t erase the fact that he had insulted Classie. And Kishin wasn’t going to run from that.
He agonized over it for hours. The image of Classie’s round eyes trembling noticeably was burned into his mind.
After much internal debate, Kishin decided to return the insult he had given Classie in kind. That resulted in the bouquet Classie had received.
* * *
No matter how much Classie thought about it, she couldn’t figure out how Kishin had come to clear up the misunderstanding.
Merran had never told her that she had mixed up the names of the two men. No matter how clever Classie was, there was no way she could deduce that on her own.
“Let me see.”
At that moment, while Classie was gripping the card in contemplation, Merran sneaked up like a flying squirrel and snatched it away.
“Merran Omel. Give it back.”
Classie spoke angrily, but Merran had already skimmed through the contents of the card in an instant. The message was too short to take long to read.
“Did Sir Kishin act disrespectfully toward you?”
Merran shouted in fury.
Classie quickly snatched the card back.
“Auntie, did Sir Kishin treat you rudely or not?”
Having already read the card, Merran gave up on taking it back and continued interrogating Classie.
“What does that have to do with you?”
Classie cut her off and moved to put the card into her pocket, but then she gasped in horror.
“Merran!”
Before she could stop her, Merran had already grabbed the bouquet and slammed it against the back of a chair.
The once-lush, extravagant bouquet was instantly torn in half.
“Merran!”
Classie tried to snatch the bouquet away, but Merran refused to let go.
As they struggled over it, the elegant wrapping around the bouquet crumpled and ripped.
Only after the bouquet was completely ruined did Classie manage to push Merran away.
“Merran! What do you think you’re doing!?”
Classie shouted furiously.
Merran dusted off her hands and scoffed.
“It’s the price for insulting my aunt.”
Classie was dumbfounded.
The bouquet had been sent to her. She hadn’t even decided what to do with it yet.
And now, Merran had taken it upon herself to destroy someone else’s bouquet and act like she was avenging her?
Shouldn’t Classie feel at least a little satisfied for it to count as “vengeance on her behalf”? This was nothing more than Merran venting her own anger.
But Merran wasn’t finished yet.
“Ana, take that ruined bouquet and send it right back to Sir Kishin at the guards’ post.”
Hearing the commotion, Anna arrived, only to be sharply instructed by Merran. Anna hesitated, glancing at Classie for guidance.
“Don’t do it, Anna.”
Classie, her expression serious, countered the order.
A cold sweat ran down Anna’s back. With the two ladies at odds, she found herself in the most difficult position.
“Aunt! That man insulted you! He even knows it himself and apologized! And you’re just going to forgive him?”
Merran, her face flushed with anger, demanded an explanation.
She was genuinely furious. To Merran, her guardian being insulted by some inexperienced man was no different from being insulted herself.
Mixed in with her anger was a trace of guilt. Classie remained unaware of the misunderstanding between Merran, Kishin, and Dernick, but Merran knew it all too well.
She had figured out exactly what had happened—after Merran publicly returned the bouquet Kishin had sent, Kishin, misunderstanding the situation, lashed out at Classie in anger.
To make up for her mistake, Merran wanted Classie to repay Kishin’s insult with equal coldness and cruelty. Only then would her aunt’s humiliation be erased, and Merran’s guilt would fade.
“Merran, when someone asks for forgiveness, it doesn’t mean they’re granting you permission to torment them however you wish.”
But Classie, unaware of Merran’s guilt, found her attitude utterly ridiculous. To Classie, it seemed as though Merran was deliberately trying to ruin her reputation.
If Classie had close ties with high society, even returning the bouquet in shambles would have been met with understanding—people would assume there was a valid reason.
However, Classie was still new to the capital and knew very few people. If a misunderstanding arose, there would be no one to defend her.
From now on, every action she took would shape her reputation. She had to be cautious.
Merran crossed her arms and scoffed.
“If you forgive that rude bastard now, Aunt, you’ll only attract more rude people in the future.”
“One rude person is enough—namely, you.”
Classie muttered as she gathered the bouquet, making Merran’s face turn bright red.
“Aunt!”
Anna covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh.
“My ladies are well-trained in verbal sparring even at home. No doubt you’ll never lose an argument outside, either.”
Hugging the bouquet, Classie quickly retreated to her room. But this was only a distraction to deceive Merran.
Hearing Merran’s angry footsteps stomping down the hallway, Classie swiftly donned her winter coat.
She waited for the sound of a door closing, then silently slipped out of her room and called for a coachman. In her arms was the ruined bouquet.
“Take me to the guard station.”
As soon as she climbed into the carriage, she urged the coachman to hurry.
The coachman, startled, double-checked with her.
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
It was late evening. The number of people on the streets was steadily dwindling.
In Hod Street, where nobles resided, street lamps remained lit even at night, but heading toward Balowal Road, they would become scarce.
However, Classie knew that the guardhouse operated 24 hours a day. And since Kishin had sent the bouquet in the evening, he was likely still there.
“My lady, please don’t stay out too late,” the coachman warned as he pulled the carriage to a stop in front of the guard station.
“Stay nearby. I don’t know how long this will take.”
Classie instructed the coachman firmly, then stepped into the guard station with the ruined bouquet in hand.
She hadn’t taken more than three steps before a guard stopped her. His expression suggested he was wondering if she had lost her mind—what noblewoman walked in clutching a tattered bouquet?
“I am here to see Lord Kishin.”
To avoid being treated like a madwoman, Classie spoke with extra formality. And before the guard could retort with “Do you think just anyone can meet Lord Kishin?”, she quickly added—
“Tell him Classie Kalashi is here.”
She partially concealed the message on the card she had brought, revealing only the signature at the bottom.
Recognizing Kishin’s signature, the guard told her to wait before heading inside.
Before long, he returned with a perplexed expression.
“He says to let you in.”
The guard then instructed a lower-ranked officer to escort Classie inside.
“Lord Kishin meets women?”
“She’s stunning. Maybe he just has… really high standards.”
Ignoring the murmurs of the guards behind her, Classie nervously stepped toward Kishin’s quarters.
* * *
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