The Squire on a White Horse

Chapter 7: 1.2


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It seemed that they went all the way to this mansion to make a passionate appeal. And it was not just one or two.

I was ready to marry the man my father had chosen. I had been taught from a young age that it was natural to do so.

I thought that since I was born as the daughter of a noble family, it was my duty. That’s how my sisters got married.

If I were a commoner, I probably wouldn’t have even been able to undergo this surgery.

I had not lived my life for a political marriage.

Still, one of the reasons why I was still alive was to marry into the family they wanted. It was for the sake of my parents, who had raised me so well despite my illness.

If my parents, who have allowed me to live this affluent life, wanted me to marry a man in his mid fifties, I must accept it if it was the only filial duty I could do.

I sighed deeply and profoundly.

“I wonder if the prince on the white horse… will take me away.”

I was too old to have such childish dreams anymore.

But Stanley didn’t scoff at my words.

“If My Lady is kidnapped, Master will send an army to look for her.”

I could see it in his eyes, and I deliberately cowered.

“The daughter of a nobleman can’t even be kidnapped with ease, can she?”

The joke seemed to have gone too far. Stanley narrowed his eyes and looked at me as if to rebuke me, so I looked up at the sky.

I looked through the polished glass at the early spring sky, which was not clearing up.

“Oh, well, what can you do? What will be will be, life will be.”

“That’s what you always say.”

I didn’t realize it until he pointed it out. Come to think of it, it did indeed feel like I said it often.

“What a positive attitude.”

“That’s right. That’s a good thing about being a daughter.”

I laughed at my self-deprecating remark.

I couldn’t help it if he said so. Maybe I should try to think of it as a good thing.

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“It will come to pass.”

“It will come to be.”

“It will.”

Thanks to Stanley’s constant companionship, I was not feeling too pessimistic today.

As I was thinking about inviting him over for tea, I heard my name called from behind me.

“Miss Florence.”

The one standing at the door of the greenhouse was Aishe, the maid who was taking care of me.

“The Master would like to see you. Please come to the office.”

I nodded my head. It’s not every day that I get summoned by my father during the day. When I looked up at Stanley, he smiled and tilted his head.

‘What is it…?”

I put my sewing back in the basket and headed to the office with Stanley.

If it’s a small talk, they’d tell me during dinner time, so I guess it’s not a small talk. 

The closer we got to the room, the more I had a bad feeling about it. In fact, I only had a bad feeling.

After standing for a while in front of the door of my father’s office, I knocked softly.

“It’s Florence.”

“Come in.”

I heard a reply immediately, and I sighed thinly, sensing something just a little bit harsh in his voice.

At least it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.

I looked up at Stanley next to me.

I looked up at Stanley, who was standing next to me, “Stanley, when you’re done talking to your father, we’ll have tea. Come along.”

“Yes, My Lady. I’ll be right there.”

I nodded and opened the door with both hands, which felt heavier than usual.

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