The Young Lady Whose Engagement Was Annulled Decided to Observe What Would Become of the Kingdom thereafter - Chapter 10

I was waiting in my room, which was bathed in the soft light of the afternoon. Standing by the window, I looked out over the garden, mentally preparing myself for the meeting that was about to take place.

“Florence, the candidate has arrived.”

When I turned around, I saw my father, Duke Alfred, standing by the door. His eyes held a mix of concern and expectation.

“Yes, I’ll be there shortly.”

I took a deep breath and checked my appearance in the mirror. I was wearing a subdued green dress that the maids had helped me into earlier. The fine fabric and impeccable tailoring reflected the dignity of House Vermilion. My hair had been styled a bit more softly than it had been back when I was in the royal capital.

First impressions are important. I can’t afford to fail here.

Leonard Harwood—the man I was about to meet. I recalled the information my father had shared with me. The Harwood family had a long-standing history as a stable, mid-ranking noble house. Leonard, the third son of the current head, was not in line to inherit. He was said to be knowledgeable in economics and agriculture, with strong practical skills.

This engagement was also politically motivated—and that was fine. Only about a month had passed since the annulment of my engagement to the prince, but another potential match had already surfaced. As a daughter of House Vermilion, I had a duty to look ahead.

When I entered the drawing room, a young man stood by the fireplace. He looked to be around the same age as me. Upon noticing me, he immediately offered a polite bow.

“Lady Florence Vermilion, a pleasure to meet you. I am Leonard Harwood.”

His voice was calm—neither too loud nor too soft. His modest yet refined attire suited him well. His brown eyes were gentle and carried an air of sincerity.

“Welcome to House Vermilion, Lord Leonard. I am Florence Vermilion.”

I greeted him politely, observing him closely—trying to gauge what kind of person he was. I didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes as before. Still, since my father had chosen him, I didn’t want to be overly critical either.

“Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”

When I gestured to the seat, Leonard thanked me and sat down. I took the seat across from him.

“Please enjoy some tea.”

I signaled the attendant.

“Thank you very much.”

The first few minutes passed with ceremonial conversation—weather, territories, and other mundane topics. But even from such small talk, I tried to read as much as I could from his responses. Leonard’s words were concise and unadorned, but I sensed an astute mind behind them.

After a while, he shifted the subject.

“I’ve heard about your situation.”

Leonard spoke quietly.

“It must have been difficult, involving royal affairs as it did.”

I hadn’t expected that topic to come up so soon, but I understood it was something that needed to be addressed. Perhaps it was better to get it out of the way early. His tone carried no hint of blame or pity—it felt more like a simple acknowledgment of fact.

“Yes, it was a lot to deal with.”

I explained the circumstances of the broken engagement—how it had taken me by surprise and my own speculations about why the prince had done such a thing.

“But now, I’m focused on the future of House Vermilion.”

Leonard listened intently, his gaze steady. I felt that he truly understood.

“I’ve made it my mission to contribute to House Vermilion. I want to use what I learned in the royal court to help develop the northern territory.”

An intrigued expression crossed Leonard’s face.

“I agree wholeheartedly.”

He spoke earnestly, and then made a request.

“I, too, wish to devote myself—for the sake of the Harwood family and House Vermilion, for both our families.”

He said we shared the same goal. And I didn’t sense any deception in that. It didn’t feel like he was trying to curry favor or flatter me. He genuinely spoke about the future.

“For that reason, I would be grateful if you could share with me the knowledge you gained in the capital. I’m confident in economics and agriculture, but I’m aware I lack knowledge in politics and diplomacy.”

I was surprised. Normally, in these meetings, one would boast of their skills and qualities. But Leonard openly acknowledged his weaknesses and asked to learn from me—with genuine sincerity.

“Of course, I’d be happy to.”

I smiled as I responded. I was truly glad to see his positive attitude.

“There’s a lot I’d like to learn from you as well—especially about agriculture.”
“Then perhaps we can be a relationship that complements each other.”

To that, I wholeheartedly agreed. I could see a possibility beyond the merely political, practical connection I had originally imagined.

“The northern climate is harsh, but some regions have succeeded in increasing yields through unique farming methods.”

When I asked, Leonard began explaining enthusiastically.

“We’ve applied those techniques in the Harwood territory as well, and we’ve seen about a 20% increase in harvest.”

The conversation naturally shifted to practical topics—territory management, trade route development, agricultural innovations. Leonard’s knowledge in these areas was deep and hands-on. I shared what I’d learned in the royal court about political theory and diplomatic strategies, explaining how they could be applied to northern governance.

“The mineral resources from House Vermilion’s mines are a vital pillar supporting the entire kingdom’s economy.”

When I explained this, Leonard responded:

“The strategies around their distribution and pricing are extremely intriguing.”
“Yes. Both my father and I are aiming to add value by focusing on refined products, not just raw materials.”
“That’s a fantastic approach. Processed goods generate far greater profit in the long term than raw exports.”

Our conversation became increasingly lively, with occasional bursts of laughter.

“By the way—”

Leonard shifted topics again.

“I noticed some beautiful roses blooming in the garden. May I ask who tends to them?”

I hadn’t expected that question. Today was full of surprises, I thought, as I replied.

“Yes! Actually, it’s a hobby shared between my mother and me. She used to take care of them on her own, but since I returned, we’ve been working on them together. Lately, we’ve been experimenting with varieties that can withstand the northern climate.”
“How wonderful. I also have an interest in plants. Roses, especially those with both beauty and practical value, are truly fascinating.”

I was delighted to find an unexpected shared interest. I began talking about the rose garden and our new crossbreeding experiments. Leonard listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions.

We became so engrossed in conversation that we lost track of time—until the butler entered and informed us the tea time was coming to an end.

“I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”
“I’m terribly sorry for taking up so much of it.”

Time had truly flown. Leonard stood and gave a polite bow.

“This has been a very meaningful conversation.”
“It has, for me as well.”

I spoke from the heart. As we parted, Leonard said:

“If you don’t mind, may I visit again soon to continue our discussion?”
“Of course, I’d be happy to.”

I genuinely wanted to see him again. That’s how enjoyable our conversation had been.

“Until next time, then.”

After Leonard left, I moved to the window to watch as he boarded his carriage.

“So? How did it go?”

I turned at the sound of the voice—my father had entered the room. His expression betrayed his eager curiosity.

“More than I expected…”

I chose my words carefully.

“We had a good conversation. He’s highly capable, with a broad perspective. His knowledge of economics and agriculture is especially impressive.”
“And what about his character?”
“He’s sincere and has strong convictions. But he’s also humble.”

Hearing this, my father nodded with satisfaction.

“Just as the rumors said. The Harwood family has been long-time allies, but I’ve heard he’s particularly capable.”
“I feel fortunate to have met someone like him.”

And I truly meant that. But…

“Still, I’d like to have a few more conversations before deciding anything.”

I had to be cautious. A single meeting might not reveal everything. There could be hidden sides. I couldn’t help but be wary—I had made a mistake once before.

“Of course. There’s no need to rush.”

My father had chosen him. Maybe I should accept him without hesitation. But my father said it—the choice is mine, and there’s no need to decide right away.

“But I’m glad to see you feel there’s potential.”
“Yes, thank you. It’s all thanks to you for fulfilling my request. I’m grateful.”