Chapter 23: Yes, Nora, yes.

“Eh? Miss, where are you going?”

Under Jenny’s puzzled gaze, Nora bolted without a word—toward the pure-white figure.

Hall crowded. She pushed past nobles, wasting time. When eyes refound the figure—corridor.

Leaving the hall?

“Wait, miss!”

To avoid missing again, she shouted. Nobles turned, startled. But the figure—unhearing—vanished at corner.

Perhaps not meant for her.

Self-excuse. Nora rushed into corridor. Joy—at end, white silhouette.

No hesitation. She dashed ahead, grabbed wrist, spun her.

“Finally found you…”

Seeing the girl’s face—excitement died.

Not her.

Girl startled first—pale. Then recognized Nora. Blinked, shy.

“Duke Nora, holding my hand—what for?”

Realizing, Nora released.

“Ah, sorry. Mistook you…”

“Oh. Thought Duke Nora fancied me.”

Girl disappointed, tone resentful. Nora awkward—her fault.

But thinking—peripheral caught white hem flashing opposite corridor. Dead heart revived.

“Sorry—later.”

Skirt hiked, Nora ran toward hem. Girl—offended—stamped foot, huffed.

Once Nora gone, girl’s anger vanished. Lips curved.

Now she’ll think Celis is noble-born?

…

Through corridor—to manor rear garden.

Skirt lifted, Nora paced garden. No white.

Like butterfly—blended, vanished.

But certain—not mistaken.

That silhouette—her!

Stubborn, Nora circled more. Confirmed absent—left dejected. Back to hall.

Forgot the mistaken girl.

“Nora, rushed off—what happened?”

William asked, concerned. Nora flashed insight.

“Uncle William—need to find someone.”

Better than solo search. Capital resident William—knew far more.

Describe features—he might pinpoint.

“Imperial noble?”

“Maybe.”

Soirée sighting—likely imperial noble.

“Maybe?”

William repeated low, eyes meaningful.

“Appearance?”

“Her…”

Mentioning—Nora’s sharp gaze softened. As if in dreamy realm. Lips gentle smile.

Voice light, yet firm, fervent.

“Seeing her—like moonlight took form. Lunar cascade her hair. Starlight…”

Just opener—Jenny cringed.

Coughed twice, cut in.

“Ahem. Silver hair, golden eyes. Beautiful smile. Favors white gowns.”

Shallow!

Too shallow!

Nora glared.

“Jenny—many match looks. Her aura, soul—unique. Find in crowds only by that.”

Not looks—soul.

First pure, warm soul. Dark cold in hearts—melted near her.

“Yes, Nora, yes.”

William chuckled.

“Jenny-type noble ladies—capital has many.”

“Really? But she’s special. One glance—coldest heart warms.”

“Relax. Won’t disappoint.”

Nodding, William’s smile deep. Nora’s heart twanged—something off.

But what?

Next day—William hosted another soirée. For Nora.

Attendees: silver-haired, golden-eyed noble ladies.

Nora—unhappy.

Swept hall. Forget warming cold hearts—her warm one chilled.

“Duke Nora, how do I fare?”

One lady approached, skirt lifted. To highlight golden eyes—long fake lashes.

“Hmm…”

Lips pursed. Nora eyed fresh-dyed silver hair, gold contacts. Speechless.

Behind—many similar. Some retouched makeup before her.

Now she knew the off feeling.

Find person?

Beloved?

Oh—she came to capital for matchmaking. Too shy to say. Noble girls—thin-skinned.

William’s exact thought—and action.

“Well? Nora—anyone catch eye? Some juniors give warm feel at glance.”

William beside, tea-sipping, kindly.