Chapter 239
As they entered the grand hall, a scattering of nobles and wealthy merchants were already gathered in small groups, chatting and puffing on cigars. Meanwhile, more guests lingered in the garden outside, where tables were set with desserts and jazz musicians were performing energetically, creating a scene of peace and camaraderie.
“Hey… isn’t that…”
A nobleman, holding a champagne glass and a cigar, pointed discreetly toward a tall, slender man striding toward the door.
“Who?”
The rotund man with the cigar looked up, catching only a glimpse of the man’s back. But the nobleman who had pointed was already hurrying after him, and without a second thought, the rotund man followed suit.
Many of the nobles chatting in the hall noticed the commotion and curiously trailed behind. By the time the tall man reached the entrance, he was followed by seven or eight others.
This spectacle caught the attention of several ladies and merchant nobles still conversing in the garden, and one lady’s surprised laughter drew everyone’s gaze.
“Is that Minister of the Interior William?!”
The ladies were no strangers to this figure. Though they lived in a small town, they never missed the morning papers like the Ansu Morning, the Canal Gazette, and the Anchester Herald, which provided them with ample gossip material.
William, frequently gracing the front pages, naturally became the center of attention. Even those who didn’t know him had seen his portraits and hand-drawn images in the newspapers.
“Minister, do you remember me? My mine helped with some of the immigration management issues…”
“Your Excellency William, allow me to introduce myself, I am…”
“I heard you’re being appointed as the Minister of the Navy? Under your leadership, our Royal Fleet will surely become an invincible force defending our overseas interests…”
William was surrounded by the crowd, smiling and greeting others, removing his gloves to shake hands with a few nobles he had met before.
Meanwhile, at a cake table in the distance, Amy held a piece of cake in her hand, took a bite with her fork, and curiously asked, “Father, who is he? Why are so many people gathered around him?”
“That’s Minister of the Interior William Winston, from the Winston family. His sister, Margaret Winston, is Aivina’s mother. Their family was once a fallen noble line, but William rose through sheer talent to become a government minister in Bris.”
Baron Hastings recalled briefly before continuing, “After his sister married into the Russell family, William leveraged his abilities and their connections to ascend to the position of Minister of the Interior, with impressive networks and skills.”
“Is he really that remarkable?”
Amy’s mouth fell slightly open, surprised by the man’s background. But after a moment of reflection, she quickly pushed the thought aside, her eyes scanning the room.
Where are Aivina and Charles? Why haven’t they come out yet?
…
In Aivina’s dressing room.
Aivina stood before a full-length mirror, her face flushed as she combed through her slightly disheveled long hair.
Behind her, Charles wore a look of exasperation as he tugged at the lace at his collar—completely torn, and the white shirt had a gash across the chest.
Just as Charles had suspected, the outfit was far too flimsy and ill-suited for combat, easily torn. However, the silk underskirt was of good quality.
Charles touched his tongue, feeling a sharp sting where it had been bitten.
Aivina’s reaction had been rather extreme… she seemed very unwilling to be underneath.
But her strength was no match for Charles, who could only endure her futile resistance and struggles.
And during her struggles, her small hands were not very clean, pinching Charles painfully.
It seemed he would have to tie her hands next time.
At that moment, Aivina caught a glimpse of Charles inspecting his tongue in the mirror, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her.
She wanted to turn and apologize to Charles, but if she did, she felt she might never regain her dignity.
This was self-defense… this was self-defense…
Aivina kept reminding herself, trying to convince herself.
Who told her to stick out her tongue…
Charles’s earlier actions and that soft sensation had left Aivina’s mind in a whirl, making her forget what she had done to him…
But judging by Charles’s clothes and injuries, it seemed her resistance had been a bit too vigorous…
Would this make Charles think she was unwilling, leading him to refrain from such actions in the future?
As Aivina wrestled with the desire to apologize while trying to maintain the little dignity she had left in front of Charles, she failed to notice that he had moved behind her.
“If you want to be on top… you can just tell me, and I’ll let you.”
Charles’s gentle voice came from behind, leaving Aivina momentarily stunned as a wave of indescribable humiliation surged from her heart.
Who said I wanted you to let me?!
Though Charles’s words seemed comforting, they felt quite insulting to Aivina. Yet, in her urgency, she couldn’t show how much it bothered her. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.”
The way she said it made it sound as if she had won their earlier encounter.
Without looking back, Aivina strode out of the dressing room, trying to suppress the turmoil within her.
Just wait! Charles! Don’t think you’ve won! Next time, I’ll pin you on the sofa and make you meow like a cat!
Aivina silently vowed.
It was just me letting her win, yes, that’s right. Charles is the patient, and I let her win both times before.
Just as the flush on Aivina’s face began to fade and her expression settled into calmness, Charles’s voice echoed from the dressing room behind her.
“Aivina, what do we do about the torn clothes? The necklace is still hanging on your collar…”
Aivina looked down and indeed saw the ruby necklace dangling from her collar, likely slipped down when Charles had been close to her.
Charles’s reminder brought back memories of their earlier encounter, and the mental victory she had just built crumbled instantly. Blushing, she grabbed the necklace and tossed it back, “You pick it up yourself!”
With that, Aivina quickly stepped forward and shut the dressing room door with a decisive click.
“Hmm?”
Catching the necklace, Charles blinked in surprise as he stood there, watching the door close.
Why did she get so worked up?
Did I do something wrong?
But judging by Aivina’s earlier actions, it didn’t seem like she was rejecting him; rather, she appeared overly excited and inexperienced, leading to the awkward situation.
Though he had no experience himself.
Perhaps next time he should be gentler, coax her a bit?
As Charles pondered, he used a comb to smooth his hair.
After finding a similar pleated shirt from Aivina’s wardrobe, he paired it with a black short cloak as she had suggested, topped off with a matching hat, and finally adorned himself with the ruby necklace.
This felt much warmer and looked more cohesive.
When Charles opened the door, he found a new pair of white stockings and black ankle boots waiting at the entrance. Aivina sat on the sofa, arms crossed, and upon hearing Charles emerge, she slowly turned her head away, seemingly unwilling to face him.
“Is this for me?”
Charles asked as he slipped on the new shoes and socks, completing his look before walking toward Aivina. “Does it look strange like this?”
To be honest, from a tailor’s and designer’s perspective, Charles thought the outfit was fine. But as the model himself, he found it hard to judge.
Just like an artist struggles to see the discord in their own painting, Charles found it difficult to pinpoint any flaws in his appearance. To be safe, he decided to ask Aivina.
At first, Aivina seemed lost in her own anger, not intending to respond to Charles. But after a moment, she couldn’t help but turn her head, scanning Charles before her gaze lingered for a moment, then reluctantly shifted away as she said:
“It’s okay, I guess.”
“Good to hear.”
Charles replied with a smile, then sat down on a nearby sofa, aware that Aivina was a bit upset, so he deliberately kept his distance.
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