Chapter 28: First Impressions of the Fiancée
Added 2025-01-09 20:26:16 +0000 UTCThe young girl was dressed in the maple-leaf patterned long dress commonly seen in the Fars Empire. This was the standard attire for many women traveling far from home: thick, wind-resistant, and practical for carrying hidden items like a small self-defense dagger. She carried no luggage with her.
Although not as beautiful as Annie Bretagne, she was undoubtedly an attractive young lady scoring at least eighty-five points in charm. Her youthful face was full of collagen, with delicate eyebrows slightly knitted in displeasure, revealing her poor mood.
Charlot Mecklenburg matched her appearance against his memory. Although the image was blurry, he was confident that this girl was his fiancée—Sylvie Martin.
Over the past few days, Charlot had avoided hitching a ride in Annie’s carriage and insisted on taking public transportation home to prevent this young lady from witnessing his current circumstances.
He shrugged and strode forward, speaking in the gentlest tone he could muster. “Miss Martin, how have you been?”
Sylvie Martin regretted traveling alone from the Behemoth Principality to Strasbourg. She should have found a companion for the journey.
Strasbourg was far larger than she had imagined and far more dangerous.
In her first hour in the city, Sylvie had lost all her belongings and was left penniless.
Charlot’s reply address to his brother had been “58 Elysée Avenue.” Following the directions had taken her an entire day before she finally found the residence.
She was ten percent sure she had come to the wrong place.
The building at 58 Elysée Avenue was a luxurious mansion, utterly unlike a place her ex-fiancé, who earned only one flor and seventy centimes per week, could afford. Yet she had no other place to turn to.
Hearing someone call her name, Sylvie looked up slightly and immediately saw a familiar, detestable face.
“Why did you give me a fake address?” she said angrily.
Charlot did not explain. Instead, he pulled out a key, unlocked the door, and added, “I live here now.”
Sylvie was too shocked to respond immediately. It took Charlot calling her twice before she followed him inside.
Charlot didn’t know why this fiancée hated her “ex.” Perhaps it was due to the ex’s unruly private life or some bad habits. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t transmigrated into this world to take responsibility for another man’s mistakes.
That said, Miss Sylvie Martin still appeared to be an innocent young woman.
Charlot led Sylvie to a small study, gestured for her to sit wherever she pleased, handed her a glass of water, and casually asked, “Why don’t you have any luggage?”
Sylvie, both angry and embarrassed, replied, “It was stolen at the station.”
Charlot couldn’t help but laugh. He genuinely hadn’t expected his fiancée to be so adorably naive.
Sylvie became even angrier. She gritted her teeth and snapped, “Can you stop laughing at me? You’re even more annoying than before!”
Charlot nodded and immediately stopped smiling. Mocking a young lady was indeed inappropriate, especially when they were practically strangers.
The previous Charlot’s memories of Sylvie Martin were scant, which confirmed their lack of familiarity.
Charlot took out the prepared documents and handed them to Sylvie. “I’ve already signed my name. Once you sign yours, the engagement will be annulled.”
“If you’d like, we can also have it notarized at the Central Government Office. I’ll cover the cost.”
Sylvie took the quill pen with a huff and quickly signed her name in elegant cursive.
Charlot heaved a sigh of relief.
From now on, he could openly pursue Annie Bretagne without worrying about his romantic life imploding.
Charlot carefully dried the ink on his copy of the document, stored it in an empty box, and smiled. “What are your plans now, Miss Martin?”
Sylvie hesitated for a long moment before speaking softly. “If possible, I’d like to stay here for a few days.”
“I’ll move out as soon as my father sends money.”
“I’ve completed my education at the Behemoth National Institute and secured a position as a civil servant in the Ingrima Empire. I’ll receive my assignment in about half a month, so I won’t trouble you for long.”
By the end, Sylvie’s gaze was firm, her eyes filled with resilience and courage.
Charlot was briefly stunned. That look was one he had often seen in his previous life—the confident self-assurance of an independent woman.
Even in his former world, such women were rare.
Charlot shrugged and said, “Miss Martin, even though we’re no longer engaged, I still feel it’s my duty to help you when needed.”
“Please, make yourself at home.”
Sylvie Martin had resolved a major headache for him, so Charlot had no intention of being ungrateful.
Besides, this was a medieval-era world.
Public safety was abysmal.
As a member of the Prison Army, Charlot knew that even Strasbourg, the capital, could be utterly chaotic.
Leaving a young girl to wander the streets alone would weigh heavily on his conscience.
If Sylvie Martin ventured out alone, she was almost certain to encounter trouble.
Sylvie let out a small sigh of relief and discreetly touched the dagger hidden in her maple-leaf dress. “You’re not allowed to come near me at night,” she said.
Charlot gestured toward the staircase leading to the banquet hall and said nonchalantly, “There are fifteen rooms on the second floor. You can pick any one you like.”
“Also, I just moved in recently, so the house is missing a lot of essentials. If you need anything, let me know as soon as possible. It’s not too late to go shopping before it gets completely dark.”
Sylvie set down her glass of water, tugged at her skirt to perform a polite curtsy, and left the study, heading upstairs.
A few minutes later, she returned and said, “I’ll need an oil lamp, some spare clothes, bedding, and I’m hungry. Do you have any food in the house?”
Charlot smiled slightly. “There are a few croissants, some stuffed bread, and a bit of floral tea from Dongli Kingdom, though I doubt you’d care for it. Let’s eat out instead.”
“Elysée Avenue has all kinds of shops. As your host, I should treat you to a proper welcome meal.”
Sylvie Martin was surprised. Charlot’s gentlemanly behavior felt utterly foreign to her. She knew what kind of person her ex-fiancé had been!
Charlot Mecklenburg was the quintessential scoundrel—a spoiled noble who committed every vice imaginable. Flirting and philandering were second nature to him. Back in the Behemoth Principality, he had been involved with multiple women, utterly unrestrained and indecent.
Sylvie had once believed he would inevitably get expelled from university due to scandal, unable to graduate, and disgraced.
This was why she had insisted on breaking off the engagement. She wanted nothing to do with a playboy or a libertine. She couldn’t imagine spending her life with such a degenerate.
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