The bathroom light went out with a "click," and Lucienne pushed the door open and stepped out.
She wore a white shirt that Isidore had sent someone to deliver. The sleeves were too long, so she had rolled them twice at the wrists. Below, she had on a pair of black trousers that hugged her long legs. Her hair, freshly dried, cascaded down, usually tied up but now flowing loosely. Her makeup had been washed off, leaving her face looking pure and fragile, almost pitiable.
She stood at the entrance of the living room and hesitated before calling out, "Mr. Kingswell..." to the figure standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing into the distance.
Isidore, with his body dried from an unknown source, had changed into his usual attire—loose, casual, and bearing a well-known sports brand. One hand was tucked into his pocket, and his tousled hair swayed with the evening breeze. He turned to look at her, offering a smile. "Do you feel better now?"
Lucienne nodded, sincerely saying, "Thank you for giving me hot milk and letting me use your place to bathe and change clothes." "No need to thank me," Isidore turned around, "It's my responsibility if you fell into the water."
"No... it was my own fault for not standing steady!" Lucienne hurriedly explained. She pressed her lips together, deeply troubled by what she had overheard while unconscious—Isidore had openly admitted to having "ulterior motives" toward her. Her heart was uneasy, but she didn't know how to ask about it.
She clearly didn't sense any romantic feelings from Isidore, so why would he say such a thing? Lost in thought, Isidore came closer, lowering his body a bit, and looked into her eyes from a very close distance. "You really don't recognize me?"
Lucienne was startled by the handsome face suddenly before her. Upon hearing his question, she became puzzled. In fact, from the first time she met Isidore, she felt like she had seen him before, though she couldn't quite place where the familiarity came from.
She slightly furrowed her delicate brows, her gaze fixed intently on those eyes—eyes that felt the most familiar to her. As soon as they aligned with the beautiful golden eyes from her memory, realization dawned, and she exclaimed in surprise: "You're Everett's brother!"
Isidore's eyes curved into a smile, like a gentle breeze on a spring day. Lucienne, overwhelmed with excitement, pressed her hand against her pounding heart as memories from over a decade ago flooded back.
A small town with dense trees, streets covered in a layer of dust, and the close-minded gossip of the people. A silent boy in a blue and white uniform stepped off the bus. "It's you!" Lucienne pointed at him, still unable to believe it.
"It's me." Isidore stood up straight and smiled at her. "You were only thirteen... fourteen?"Lucienne furrowed her brows, recalling the past, and Isidore confirmed for her, "Thirteen." Lucienne smiled, "I was fifteen then, but you were already a bit taller than me!"
Isidore was now much taller than she remembered. Lucienne's smile faltered for a moment. "All these years, how could you..." Then, she recalled how soon after, Everett had passed away, and not long after, she had heard that his father had met with misfortune as well. Fearing she might bring up painful memories for Isidore, she held her tongue.
Isidore lowered his head and curled his lips into a faint smile. The experiences that followed had been enough for him to digest the past, but what lay ahead... could not be summed up in a few words, nor was it necessary to explain.
He raised his head. "Over the years, I've always remembered the help you gave to my sister before her passing, and I've been looking for a chance to repay you."
Lucienne was momentarily stunned, then waved her hand. "At that time, I was merely fulfilling my duty as class monitor." Isidore shook his head, a depth in his gaze that stopped her humility in its tracks. He was young back then, but what he had witnessed was already enough to make him see the true nature of humanity.
So, speaking sincerely, he said, "You are a good person, and I hope you live a smooth and happy life. As for the contract with Ashdown Company, consider it a wedding gift, and feel free to accept it with peace of mind."
Lucienne was a smart woman and quickly understood his meaning. This sentence not only answered the question of why he had chosen Ashdown Company, but also showed his gratitude and kindness toward her, though only up to that point.
Her face flushed, relieved that she hadn't had the chance to ask the question earlier. In hindsight, that question would have only received an answer born of self-delusion. With the weight lifted off her heart, Lucienne smiled freely, "Thank you."
Isidore smiled back. "If you ever need anything or face difficulties in the future, feel free to ask me." He seemed to think of something, and his expression took on a slightly teasing tone. "As for your fiancé's annoying aristocratic little sister... don't worry, no matter how much she causes a stir, she won't make much of a splash."
Lucienne was startled, thinking that his words meant he would take action against Eloise. She hurriedly said, "Mr. Kingswell, Elly is just young and impulsive. Please, I beg you not to hurt her!"
Isidore raised an eyebrow slightly, inwardly marveling at how, despite being human, the difference in how people conduct themselves could be so vast. He chuckled: "Don't misunderstand. When I said she couldn't stir up any matters, I didn't mean I was going to do anything to her. I was simply stating the fact that she's quite foolish."
In Isidore's experience, he had encountered many fools, and countless people who schemed and caused trouble. However, the ones who used ridiculously clumsy methods to do so—there was truly only Eloise. If she weren't so unique, he wouldn't have felt such intense interest the first time they met.
Lucienne understood and could only give a bitter smile. "Elly... she's truly very... innocent."
Isidore cast his gaze toward the floor-to-ceiling window, squinting at the flashing neon lights of the city. His mind drifted back to the moment when Eloise had turned and walked away from the rooftop without a word. He felt a surge of irritation—he couldn't help but wonder what that foolish girl was up to now, fumbling around in her usual chaotic way.
