Everyone looked at me, waiting for my answer. I gave a small nod. "All right." Lucien stood first. "In that case, shall we?" He neither walked too fast nor too slowly. His pace was steady, just enough for me to walk beside him without feeling rushed. As we passed through the drawing room, I glanced back. My mother smiled softly, lifting her teacup in quiet encouragement. My father gave me a reassuring nod, as if to say that everything was going well. I returned the gesture before following Lucien through the large glass doors that led to the back garden. The moment the doors closed behind us, the atmosphere changed. The drawing room had been filled with conversation. The garden, on the other hand, was wrapped in peaceful silence. A white stone pathway stretched across a neatly maintained lawn. Maple trees lined both sides, while white roses and blooming hydrangeas bordered the hedges. In the distance, the gentle sound of water trickling from a small round pond filled the air. A soft spring breeze drifted past us. It carried the scent of flowers and damp earth. "The garden is beautiful," I said first, hoping to ease the awkwardness. Lucien nodded. "My mother takes care of most of the flowers herself." "Really?" "Yes." I looked at him in surprise. "I thought the Ashford family hired gardeners for everything." "We do." "Then...?" "My mother still plants the flowers she likes herself." I smiled "That sounds nice." "Maybe." "Maybe?" "She says gardening helps her clear her mind." He said it without the slightest change in expression. But I was beginning to realize something. Lucien wasn't unfriendly. He simply spoke only when he had something to say. If he had something worth saying, he would say it. If not, he preferred silence. Oddly enough...his silence didn't feel awkward. We walked side by side for a while. A flock of small birds fluttered out of the bushes as the wind picked up. "Your father is a warm person," I said. Lucien glanced at me briefly. "He is." "I was honestly surprised." "Why?" "Well... I hope this doesn't sound rude." "Go ahead." "I imagined the Ashford family would be much... colder." For the first time since we had stepped outside, the corner of Lucien's mouth lifted ever so slightly. "That is our family's reputation." "So it's not true?" "It's partly true." "What do you mean?" "We value our privacy." "Oh..." "People often mistake that for being cold." I nodded. That made sense. We continued walking. After a few more steps, Lucien spoke first. "Were you nervous?" I laughed quietly "Was it that obvious?" "A little." "Only a little?" "You seemed calmer than I expected." I looked at him curiously "What exactly were you expecting?" "Someone quiet." "And?" "Someone who wouldn't dare look anyone in the eye." I laughed before I could stop myself "That sounds pitiful." "No." "Then what?" "Understandable." His answer was so simple that I didn't know how to respond. "What about you?" I asked. "What about me?" "Were you nervous?" "Hm." "What does 'hm' mean?" "A little." I studied his face for a few moments. "You didn't look nervous." "I don't usually show it." That answer made me smile without realizing it. "So you really were nervous." "Yes." "Why?" "We've only just met." "I suppose that's a perfectly reasonable answer." Lucien gave a small nod. A few moments later, we arrived at a wooden gazebo overlooking the pond. "Please." I sat down on one side of the long bench. Lucien sat on the opposite end, leaving what felt like a perfectly respectful distance between us. Not too close. Not too far. "Can I ask you something?" I said. "Of course." "Why did you agree to this arranged marriage?" Lucien didn't answer immediately. Instead, he watched the gentle ripples spreading across the pond. "My father asked me to meet you." "That's all?" "No." "Then?" "I trust my parents' judgment." I blinked "You weren't against it?" "I've been thinking about marriage for quite some time." "And?" "I do want to get married." His honesty left me momentarily speechless. "Even to someone you've never met?" "That's the purpose of today's meeting." I couldn't help laughing softly "You have a point." "What about you?" "Hm?" "Why did you come?" I lowered my eyes to my hands. "My father has never forced me into anything." "And?" "I was curious about you." Lucien looked at me without blinking. "I've heard many things about the Ashford family." "The good ones?" "A mix." "The bad ones?" "Some." He didn't seem offended. "I understand." "But... my father always told me never to judge someone based on other people's stories." "That's good advice." "So... that's why I came." Lucien nodded slowly. "Thank you." I looked at him in confusion. "For what?" "For giving me a chance." I stared at him for several seconds. It was such a simple sentence. Yet somehow...it sounded completely sincere. I had just opened my mouth to reply when a fluffy white cat leaped onto the gazebo bench. "Huh?" The cat casually walked toward Lucien. Without the slightest hesitation, it climbed straight into his lap. My eyes widened "A cat?" Lucien gently stroked its head with practiced ease. "Yes." "I wasn't expecting that." "Expecting what?" "You to have a cat." "I don't." "Then...?" "He decided to live here." I couldn't hold back my laughter "That's not how owning a pet works." "It is from his perspective." The cat let out a soft meow before rubbing its head against Lucien's hand. I covered my mouth, trying to stop myself from laughing. "Sorry." "What for?" "I just..." "Hm?" "I never imagined someone who looks so serious would be so popular with cats." Lucien looked down at the cat resting in his lap. "I don't know why either." "What's his name?" "My father named him Winston." "Winston?" "Yes." "That's far too elegant a name for a cat." "My mother said the same thing." I laughed again. For the first time since arriving at Ashford Estate, every trace of nervousness had disappeared. I found myself speaking more naturally. And Lucien... Although he was still a man of few words, he was slowly beginning to say more than before. Perhaps we were still strangers. But at least...we no longer felt like two strangers forced to sit together. Silence settled over the gazebo once again. Not the awkward kind. More like the silence between two people who were giving each other room to think. Winston remained curled comfortably in Lucien's lap. I watched his fingers gently stroke the white cat's fur in slow, steady motions. "So... you're an animal lover." Lucien looked up. "Maybe." "Maybe?" "I just couldn't bring myself to chase him away." "How long has he been living here?" "Almost two years." "Two years?" "Yes." "Are you the one who feeds him?" "At first, the staff did." "At first?" "Now he usually comes looking for me." I chuckled "It sounds like Winston has already chosen his owner." "Winston doesn't think anyone owns him." The cat let out a soft meow, as though agreeing with us. I hesitantly reached out my hand "May I?" Lucien nodded. "Winston doesn't bite." I gently stroked Winston's head. The cat immediately closed his eyes and began purring. "He's adorable..." "He warms up to people easily." "Unlike his owner." The words slipped out before I could stop them. Only when Lucien turned to look at me did I realize what I'd said. My cheeks immediately grew warm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—" "I don't warm up to people easily." "..." "So you're not wrong." I let out a quiet sigh of relief. "Thank goodness." Lucien watched me for a few moments. "What about you?" "Hm?" "What kind of person do I seem like?" The question made me pause. I didn't want to answer carelessly. "I've only just met you." "That's fine." "In that case..." I looked at him thoughtfully."You seem difficult to approach." Lucien gave a small nod "And?" "But after talking to you..." A faint smile appeared on my face. "...I think you're just a man who doesn't talk much." "That's closer." "So I was right?" "Yes." He continued petting Winston. "I'm not very good at starting conversations." "Neither am I, actually." "But you do it well." "That's because if neither of us said anything, we'd probably sit here in silence forever." "Most likely." I laughed again. "Good thing I'm talkative enough." "You're not talkative." "I'm not?" "No." "Then what am I?" "You make it easy for people to talk." I tilted my head "Was that a compliment?" "Yes." "Thank you." The breeze drifted through the garden once more. Maple leaves floated gently onto the surface of the pond. The scenery was so peaceful that I almost forgot why we were here. "Lucien." "Hm?" "Can I ask you something else?" "Of course." "Do you work every day?" "Almost. "Even on weekends?" "Unless there's a family commitment." "Then you must be very busy." "Fairly." "So... when do you rest?" Lucien seemed to think about it "At night." "Only at night?" "Yes." "That sounds exhausting." "I'm used to it." I looked at him for a moment. His expression was as calm as ever. But if I looked closely, there was a faint shadow of fatigue beneath his eyes. "What about you?" he asked. "Me?" "Your daily routine." I smiled "I usually wake up around seven." "And then?" "I water my plants." "So you like gardening too?" "Not as much as your mother." "What comes next?" "I make my own breakfast." "You cook?" "Yes." "I thought the Laurent family had a chef." "We do." "Then why cook yourself?" "Because it's fun," I laughed softly. "When work gets busy, I don't have time. But on my days off, I enjoy trying new recipes. Can you cook?" "I can." Lucien nodded. I looked at him in surprise. "Seriously?" "My mother taught me." "I wasn't expecting that." "Why does everyone say that?" "Because..." I bit back another laugh. "...you look like someone who wouldn't even know where the kitchen is." For the first time, Lucien genuinely smiled. Not just with the corner of his lips. Even his eyes softened. "It's my house." He said it matter-of-factly. "Of course I know where the kitchen is." "All right, I was wrong" I laughed. "What's your favorite food to cook?" "Hm..." He thought for a few seconds. "Soup." "Soup?" "Yes." "That's surprisingly simple." "I like warm food." I nodded "So do I." The conversation continued to flow. We talked about books, movies, music. To my surprise, our tastes weren't very different. We both preferred quiet places over crowded parties. We both enjoyed reading. Neither of us liked being the center of attention. I was beginning to understand why our parents thought we might be compatible. Not because we had the same personalities. But because we seemed to move through life at the same pace. Nearly half an hour had passed when footsteps echoed along the stone path. A member of the household staff approached us respectfully. "Young Master." Lucien stood immediately. "Yes?" "Master and Madam have asked that you and Miss Evelyn return to the drawing room." Lucien nodded "We'll be there shortly." The attendant bowed before quietly leaving. I stood as well. "Time went by quickly." "It did." "I thought it had only been ten minutes." Lucien looked back toward the mansion. "They've probably finished their discussion." I smoothed the wrinkles from my skirt after sitting for so long. "Well..." I looked at him. "Thank you." "For what?" "For bringing me to the garden." Lucien shook his head. "I should be the one thanking you." "Why?" "You made this conversation much easier." I smiled. "I was afraid we'd spend the entire time sitting in silence." "So was I." For a brief moment, our eyes met. Then, without saying anything else, we walked side by side toward the mansion. There was still a respectful distance between us. But the awkwardness that had accompanied each step earlier had quietly given way to a sense of comfort that neither of us could quite name. As the large glass doors opened once more, the sound of both families laughing welcomed us back inside. I glanced at Lucien. For some reason...walking back into that drawing room no longer felt nearly as intimidating as it had the first time.

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