Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 214
As the alcohol flowed, the quality of conversation dropped. Gradually, talk shifted to women, and Nigel, yawning with half-closed eyes, leaned back, bored and barely paying attention.
However, his ears perked up when he heard a familiar name.
“Who? Cecilia Lasphilla?”
“Yeah, the new debutante from the Lasphilla family. They say she’s stunning.”
“Oh, I know. Actually, I queued up today just to see her face in proper lighting.”
“Are you insane? Planning to marry a gypsy’s daughter?”
“Marry? No way. It was just for a glance at her face and, well, her figure.”
Nigel’s eyebrow arched, and he tilted his chin, encouraging them to continue.
“She’s really that pretty?”
“Well, let’s just say she inherited her mother’s face, which is… ouch!”
The man, drunk and oblivious, rambled until his companion gave him a swift smack on the head.
“Isn’t the Lasphilla family somewhat related to you, sir?”
“Related? Do you consider someone who isn’t even blood as family?”
“Well, technically, if you consider…”
Watching the man struggle with his words, Nigel smirked.
“So, by that logic, any stray dog could be your brother, right?”
“……”
The group fell silent, regretting their loose talk. Surprisingly, Nigel was the first to break the silence.
“So, is she really that beautiful?”
“Of course…”
They nodded cautiously, worried about upsetting him.
“Yes, she’s incredibly beautiful…”
“Don’t you think so, sir?” blurted a particularly oblivious man.
“I’ve never thought of her that way.”
Nigel pressed a finger to his temple as if pained.
“Is it my eyes, or has the world turned upside down…?”
One of the men, hoping to break the tension, rubbed his hands and chuckled nervously.
“It’s just talk, sir. We’re simply looking, nothing more.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Of course. Surely we wouldn’t make a move on an engaged woman, right?”
“……”
It was only then that Nigel pinpointed the source of the strange anger simmering within him.
These men speaking of Cecilia as if she were a trophy, his half-brother hovering around her, unable to admit his own feelings, and… her fiancé.
It was all bothersome.
No—unbearable.
A heat rose to his head despite not having had a single drop of alcohol.
But why?
It couldn’t be jealousy. That would be ridiculous, given the nature of their relationship.
‘It just… disgusts me.’
The entire evening felt like handling rotting compost bare-handed.
* * *
The next morning, Nigel received a letter from Cecilia, delicately packaged. Wearing a robe, with his damp hair still drying, he examined the envelope.
Finding a letter knife nearby, he carefully sliced it open and read the note.
“Hah…”
He let out a dry laugh.
“So short.”
He crumpled the letter and shoved it into his desk drawer, then, unusually, opted for formal attire rather than his uniform.
That afternoon, he visited Casey Heens.
The reason was simple.
There was no way he was going to wallow in this foul mood alone.
* * *
Cecilia attended Casey’s birthday party wearing a half-mask.
She handed Casey a carefully prepared, handmade perfume, urging her not to open it right away. In her typically indifferent tone, she said,
“I hope you like it, though honestly, I’m not too confident.”
Casey, wearing a mask adorned with bells that signified her as the guest of honor, ran up to her and beamed.
“It’s what’s inside that counts. I’ll cherish it, whatever it is.”
“Is he here?”
“Yes, I think I spotted him earlier, though I didn’t say hello. But…”
“But…?”
As Casey clutched the gift with a radiant smile, her expression slowly stiffened.
“There’s a bit of a problem.”
