Chapter 3
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Robert Lawrence—believe it or not—sent me an invitation.
Staring at the elegant card with his perfect calligraphy, inviting me to tea at his residence, my heart hammered against my ribs.
Holy shit! He's finally come to his senses!
Clutching the card, I spun around my room like a madwoman, so excited I nearly brought the ceiling down.
Jessica covered her mouth, laughing at my antics.
"Sister, you're absolutely ridiculous."
"You just don't get it!" I pressed the card to my heart. "This is history in the making! My efforts weren't wasted! I've finally cracked that icy heart of his!"
The next day, I ditched my usual red training clothes for a soft egg-yellow dress my mother had made. I even attempted—rather clumsily—to arrange my wild hair into a proper bun.
When I arrived at his residence, the same servant opened the door, but this time his eyes held a hint of respect.
Robert Lawrence waited at a stone table in the courtyard.
Today he wore a moon-white robe that made him look even more ethereal—like he'd stepped straight out of a painting.
When he saw me, he rose and—for the first time ever—offered me the ghost of a smile.
"Miss Lawrence, please be seated."
My knees nearly buckled as I sank into the seat across from him.
He poured my tea himself, releasing the delicate aroma of premium leaves into the air between us.
"I must thank you, Miss, for your repeated assistance in those… difficult situations. I have only this recently acquired tea to offer in return. I hope it meets your approval."
"It's perfect—absolutely perfect!" I waved my hands frantically, my heart soaring.
He'd finally acknowledged my help directly instead of that nonsense about "tarnishing the General's reputation."
We talked, with comfortable silences between topics.
I did most of the talking while he listened intently.
During one of these lulls, he asked what seemed like an innocent question.
"I understand your younger sister has been unwell. Has her condition improved recently?"
"Jessica? Same as always—slow recovery," I answered freely, dropping my guard completely. "But her spirits are good. She reads and writes all day in her room, perfectly content with her own company."
"The second Miss enjoys literature, then?"
"God, yes! She devours travel journals about distant lands and mountains. And poetry—she adores poetry. Oh! And she has the biggest sweet tooth, especially for those osmanthus cakes from the shop in the southern district. I can't go anywhere without bringing some back for her."
"I see." He nodded thoughtfully. "Are there foods she avoids? Perhaps sensitivities to cold or heat?"
"Absolutely! She can't handle the cold at all. When winter hits, her hands and feet turn to ice. We keep her room's brazier burning day and night. And cold foods are completely off-limits…"
Like an absolute idiot, I answered every single question about my sister in exhaustive detail.
I thought he was just being considerate about his friend's sister.
After all, I'd been hounding him for weeks—perfectly natural he'd know about my beloved sister.
That tea session felt magically comfortable.
As I was leaving, Robert Lawrence presented me with a lacquered box.
"Osmanthus cakes from the southern district shop. Since the second Miss enjoys them, I took the liberty of purchasing some. Please share them with your sister."
My heart turned to absolute mush.
He's so thoughtful! So attentive to detail!
He not only remembered Jessica's favorite treat but went out of his way to buy them for her.
This must be how love works—caring about everything connected to the one you adore!
Clutching that box, I practically floated back home, my feet barely touching the ground.
I had no idea I'd become nothing more than an unwitting intelligence source.
That box of osmanthus cakes—handed to me with such apparent care—was nothing but bait on a hook.
