Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 213
Casey fumed, her cheeks flushed with frustration, as Nigel tilted his head slightly and replied coolly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know!”
Casey whispered fiercely, eyebrows raised.
“Miss Cecilia is your lover, isn’t she?”
“So?”
“So… If she’s your lover, then it would be uncomfortable for her fiancé…”
Nigel leaned back against his chair, crossing his legs as if encouraging her to continue. Casey, flustered by his unexpected reaction, stammered on.
“E-Even if you don’t love someone… surely you wouldn’t want to see your fiancée with her lover.”
In saying this, Casey found herself using Cecilia to admit her own feelings, embarrassment making her drop her gaze.
Above her, Nigel’s mocking chuckle scattered like dust.
“And… how does that concern you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Both she and I will attend. Therefore, you’ll get what you want no matter how I act.”
“Your tone is a bit…”
“It’s because there’s no need for formalities between us anymore.”
It was Casey Heens who had dismissed that formality first, not him. Nigel’s irritation was evident as he spoke. Casey’s face grew hotter, and she quickly lowered her gaze again.
He folded his arms, studying her.
“Have you had a change of heart?”
“No. My stance remains firm,” she replied with conviction.
“Well then…”
With great effort, Casey looked up, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and asked in a hesitant voice,
“Do you… truly love Miss Cecilia?”
Her question was more concerned than doubtful. Cecilia was both her ally and friend. Nigel had always seemed ‘rough yet not terrible’ to her, but lately, whenever he mentioned Cecilia, he seemed to become increasingly ruthless.
“Love…”
Nigel clenched his jaw and turned away, covering his mouth with his fist to stifle a cough. Once he composed himself, he answered.
“Of course.”
Just then, her father approached from the doorway. Casey ended the conversation, still unsettled.
After Nigel left, Casey opened the gift he had left behind—a rare set of tea from the Western Isles, difficult to obtain even for the royal family.
She thought it might be a local replacement, but the scent revealed its authenticity… or close enough. She checked the supplier’s emblem embossed on the case—it was a company she hadn’t seen before.
It was clear to her that this company would soon enjoy remarkable success.
“Father!”
Casey called to the Count.
She was determined to use Nigel Rosencrantz’s birthday gift—not as a token of their engagement, but as leverage for the end of it.
* * *
The evening had gone exceptionally well.
Nigel had enjoyed beating Christian up, canceled an annoying engagement, and left work earlier than usual.
Typically, Nigel stayed at the Rosencrantz’s townhouse when high society was quieter. But come spring, when Guinevere and Ulysses visited, he would rent a hotel suite long-term.
That night, he headed to the hotel after work.
“Oh, Sir Nigel! What brings you here so early?”
In the lobby, he ran into familiar faces, acquaintances he had known since childhood around the Rosencrantz estate, though he was hardly pleased to see them.
“Ugh. Don’t talk to me,” he said, shutting down greetings before they began.
Unfazed by his brusque manner, they coaxed him into joining them for drinks. They were used to Nigel’s rough speech, so he settled in, muttering curses, joining their table amidst all kinds of gossip and investment talk.
“The tea industry has become quite inflated, hasn’t it?” one remarked, referring to the Western Isles’ tea import boom.
Nigel responded, “Are you investing because you know they’ve succeeded in refining it?”
“Where do you get information like this, always holed up in the palace?”
“It’s simple. Make good connections and avoid these kinds of drinking parties.”
“……”
