Chapter 5: Avoidance, Though Shameful, is Useful
In the Library of Noval Mansion, Reid Collins—now Reid Asteria—was struggling to adjust his necktie, writhing in discomfort as he tried to make it more comfortable to wear.
Although Reid still retained the memories of being a prince of the Augustus Empire, the two countries were neighbors on land.
However, the Victoria Kingdom and the Augustus Empire had been bitter enemies for a century, with differences in noble etiquette and commoners’ lives that were like night and day.
In other words, Reid could not claim to be well-versed in the noble etiquette of the Victoria Kingdom; at the very least, he had no understanding of it at all.
“Don’t fidget.”
This was the third time Lena swatted his hand away, her fingertips accidentally brushing against his Adam’s apple.
To give Reid an etiquette lesson, Lena had changed out of her usual military uniform and donned a light blue velvet gown that accentuated her snow-white skin.
Her silver hair was loosely held up with pearl hairpins, yet it could not conceal the sharpness in her brow.
“The necktie must be straight, not lopsided or too tight.”
Lena stood on her tiptoes, using her fingers to personally adjust the silk around Reid’s neck.
Though from a military background, it must be said that Lena’s fingers were indeed slender and dexterous.
Reid could look down and see her slightly trembling eyelashes, the distance between them close enough that he could count the number of her lashes.
He could even catch the faint scent of lemon soap in her hair.
This girl actually uses lemon soap?
This kind of soap had recently become quite popular among the young noble ladies in Gran City.
Reid raised an eyebrow; it seemed this girl had a bit of youthful sentiment fitting for her age and status.
Lena’s voice was close to his ear, her warm breath brushing against his neck:
“Noble men are required to spend at least two hours on their attire each day, with strict regulations from underwear to coat.”
Reid rolled his eyes at the tightening necktie, “Two hours? That’s enough time for me to charm three noble ladies into paying for my meals.”
“With three sentences, I could make a noble lady spend two gold coins on me.”
Reid deliberately elongated the tone, watching with satisfaction as Lena’s brow furrowed slightly, although the movement was nearly imperceptible.
Reid wasn’t unaware that such remarks might anger Lena; on the contrary, he was intentionally acting frivolous.
Although Lena held a significant handle over him due to his status as a black-market individual, it did not prevent Reid from expressing his dissatisfaction.
He did not intend to sit idly.
Furthermore, whether dealing with partners or socializing, acting submissively would only make others think he was easy to bully, leading them to impose even harsher conditions.
One must retain their sharpness.
“That is precisely the problem.”
To Reid’s surprise, Lena did not get angry.
She took a step back, crossing her arms as she examined him, her blue-gray eyes sparkling with some emotion Reid could not comprehend.
“You must completely forget your past habits, and you cannot exhibit any uncouth behavior,” she turned and pulled a heavy book from the bookshelf, “This is The Book of Etiquette; it will guide your behavior from now on.”
“Holy beans,” Reid exclaimed as he accepted the book, dramatically collapsing into an armchair, his legs slung casually over the edge of the coffee table, “How can you nobles not be suffocated by these rules?”
“Because we have been trained since childhood.”
Lena sat across from him, her gown spreading out like a blooming flower: “Just like what you must do now.”
Suddenly, she produced a baton she carried and accurately tapped it onto Reid’s knee.
“First, your sitting posture: keep your feet flat on the ground,” the baton slid down Reid’s spine to his waist, “your spine straight.”
“Your hands can rest on the armrests but don’t sink into the chair like a heap of mud.”
The baton lightly tapped his elbow when Reid attempted to relax.
“Graceful, not stiff.”
Reid reluctantly adjusted his posture.
Yet over the next two hours, Lena’s expression gradually changed from initial sternness to surprise.
“The knife goes on the right side, the fork on the left? This is too simple.”
While Reid complained, his hands had already perfectly arranged the cutlery, even folding the napkin into the standard Victoria court style.
Lena pursed her lips, discreetly increasing the difficulty: “Now practice the social dance invitation segment.”
She had expected this bartender from the Port District to fumble at least a little, only to see Reid bow elegantly.
His right hand hovered at just the right height, even the curve of his bent fingers was perfectly measured.
Even the most challenging detail, that the eyelashes should droop slightly when bowing, he executed flawlessly.
It should be noted that even Lena needed half a day to master this gesture when she first learned.
In just two hours of instruction, Reid had grasped the basics of dining and social etiquette; even his accent had transformed from the rough Port District dialect to the refined noble vernacular.
Though Reid occasionally slipped, such as when he would unconsciously use his left hand to hold a teacup while relaxing, the teaching outcome had far exceeded Lena’s expectations.
“Impressive, Mr. Reid.”
At the end of the lesson, Lena set down her pocket watch, the chain gently swaying in the twilight of the sunset.
“I thought it would take at least a week for you to master these.”
Reid was adjusting his necktie in front of the full-length mirror when he turned to meet Lena’s gaze.
The sunlight bathed his deep features in a soft glow; although it was merely a mass-produced formal outfit from the mansion’s stock, he somehow wore it with a royal demeanor.
Lena was reluctantly forced to admit that the handsomeness of this face was indeed the most striking she had ever seen.
“Miss Lena.”
Reid took a step forward, the sound of his leather shoes echoing steadily on the oak floor:
“Page 137 of The Book of Etiquette clearly states that when conversing with others, a noble should keep their gaze on the midpoint of the other person’s two eyebrows…”
Finally, after devouring this wretched book at an accelerated pace, I’ve caught your slip-up!
A cunning smile played at Reid’s lips as he deliberately slowed his speech:
“May I ask why you moved your gaze away?”
Lena’s baton struck the table with a sharp “bang,” causing the nearby ink bottle to tremble.
She forced herself to meet that piercing gaze but felt a warm flush spreading from her earlobes down to her neck.
“Mr. Reid,” Lena stood up, “The Book of Etiquette also stipulates that you should show respect to your instructor.”
The baton tilted Reid’s chin upwards, but as it touched his skin, she could feel the movement of his Adam’s apple.
The temperature in the library seemed to suddenly rise by several degrees, and Lena felt an inexplicable warmth.
She found the metal baton slightly hot to the touch: “You must memorize the first five chapters of The Book of Etiquette tonight, or else…”
“Or else what?” Reid suddenly grasped the other end of the baton, “Are you going to expel me, dear teacher?”
Lena swiftly yanked back the baton, her silver hair sweeping across Reid’s chin as she turned away.
She hurried toward the door but paused at the threshold, not looking back.
“… Now, accompany me for a walk in the garden.”
In the face of questions she didn’t want to answer or couldn’t answer, diverting the topic was always a good choice.
Avoidance, though shameful, is useful.
“The garden is the most common place for young couples to date; we need to practice how to behave like lovers in public.”
Lena’s tone remained formal, but she couldn’t hide the slight hoarseness in her voice:
“Remember, be natural.”
