Chapter 48.1

Chapter 48.1

“This is a warning, Richard Aion.”

In the face of her vehement refusal, Richard slowly lowered his hand. Jasmine spoke as if she was slapping him in the face.

“Why, since I’ve been begging you, I suppose you think I’m worthy. Why don’t you tell me what my family is really like, and is that enough for the great Duke of Aion?”

“Jasmine, please. It’s not like that. I, I’m just desperate, wanting to hold onto you somehow…”

“Get lost. I don’t want to know. Leave.”

Ah. Jasmine scowled. “I’ll leave.” Just in case, she added, “You have no self-respect. I’m sick of you.”

It was a biting mockery stabbing his heart with a sharp dagger. Jasmine knew Richard Aion better than anyone else, and her cruel insult immediately took effect, firmly holding onto his pride.

She couldn’t let go without wounding his lofty pride.

Confused as to what weighed heavier, the insult or the shame, the final “I’m sick of you,” he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He just stood there, clinging to her command of refusal, watching her retreating back into the distance. Like an abandoned dog.

***

Jasmine’s eyes grew hotter and hotter as she quickly moved away. She insisted it was because of the wind, not because tears were about to burst. Yes, definitely not. She bit her lip and held back.

“Oh, miss! Are you okay? Your face…”

“Hurry up and pack.”

“What?”

Marie was shocked to see the disheveled young lady like a flower caught after a storm, but hesitated at the firm command from her mistress.

Jasmine either ignored or vaguely responded, passing by the puzzled maid and stood in front of a mirror. She wiped her cheeks and fixed her hair, pretending not to notice her messy appearance. As she was applying lipstick, she raised an eyebrow at the maid, who stood watching.

“What are you doing? I told you to pack.”

“Miss, where are you going? It’s already late at night.”

“I stayed too long. I’m going home.”

Marie opened her mouth in surprise, but Jasmine dismissed it. She nonchalantly put a shawl over her shoulders and walked over to the bed, sweeping her belongings onto the desk, letters and important items into her bag.

Marie opened her mouth in surprise. Jasmine, however, took off her shawl and draped it across the bed. She walked over to her desk, gathered her letters and other important items, and stuffed them into her bag.

Marie finally followed her lead and began to pack as she did. Glancing over her mistress worriedly, she asked,

“Miss. Are you okay?”

Jasmine didn’t answer. She didn’t know. But she had to be okay.

It had taken her over two hours to pack all her clothes with the help of the servant who had been called in the middle of the night. What had started out as a light outing had turned into an extended stay. All the memories of Richard, his touch, and the gifts he gave her didn’t fit in the suitcases. Just like Richard, abandoned in the garden.

“Miss, what should we do with these?”

At that question, Jasmine, tying her bonnet, glanced at the silk scarf on the bed. It was a delicate and beautiful item with a bright blue color, akin to forget-me-nots. Undoubtedly, it held the most meaningful memory of these short and intense days.

***

As they hurriedly shuffled back to their lodgings, a blue sky tinged with pink hung over them. Because she was tired, Richard carried Jasmine on his back, so she lifted her head and looked at the beautiful sight.

Everything was calm. The pale reddish forest canopy, the grasses swaying in the cool breeze, the fragrant smell of the woods after sunset. A pair of white butterflies fluttered away, and the long flapping wings of a bird sang across the sky covered in rolling clouds.

Jasmine was mesmerized for a moment by the midsummer scene. A sweet breeze ruffled her golden hair playfully.

“Jasmine. What are you looking at?” Richard said. “Hold on tight. What are you going to do if you fall?”

Richard was secretly a man who often nagged. While Jasmine’s father and two brothers would have been extremely displeased to witness it, she found it more endearing than annoying, given how well it matched his meticulous personality.

Jasmine gazed silently at his dark hair, broad back, and arms that hugged her tightly out of concern.

And she thought, ‘Perhaps I won’t be able to forget this moment for the rest of my life.’

“Richard.”

“Yes.”

“Where did this scarf come from?”

As the sun set, Jasmine touched the scarf wrapped around her neck. Even for her discerning taste, the gentle way it embraced her neck felt pleasant, like being surrounded by clouds.