Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 36

“So, you admit you have a handsome face, at least,”
his attendant teased.
“And besides, there’s already a line of ladies who want to be engaged to you, my lord.”

“Damn it.”

Otis cursed under his breath, but he picked up his pen again.
There was still a mountain of documents he needed to sign and submit by the end of the day.
His attendant quietly helped him organize the papers, then suddenly asked as if remembering something:

“But my lord… If the young lady is from the Marquess Anastas’s family, are you sure you should cause trouble?”

“What?”

Otis, who had been so disgusted by the idea of an engagement that he hadn’t even bothered checking the girl’s background, widened his eyes.

According to what his father had said, the girl was wearing a plain dress, accompanied by only a single attendant —
so Otis had assumed she was from a minor, insignificant family and hadn’t bothered looking into it further.

But the Marquess Anastas’s daughter?

Otis scowled.

“The Marquess Anastas’s daughter should only be, what, nine years old this year? What the hell am I supposed to do with a child?”

“No, no, not her,” the attendant hurriedly corrected him.

“Not her? Then who?”

Instead of explaining, the attendant retrieved a paper that had been tossed aside earlier.
It was a simple information sheet his father had pushed onto him, detailing basic facts about the girl.

Reluctantly, Otis took the sheet.
The name printed at the top made him frown.

“Calliope Anastas?”

“If you look further down, you’ll see — she’s the daughter of the Marquess’s former wife. She was expelled from the family but was recently reinstated.”

Otis didn’t relax his expression, still unable to make sense of it.

The Anastas family had been working quietly to align themselves with the royal faction after the Marquess’s remarriage.
Why would they send a daughter from a broken branch into an engagement like this?

Of course, House Anastas was still a powerful family, one that didn’t lose to the dukedoms in terms of wealth or prestige.
But trying to form a bond now, under the name of engagement, seemed… strange.
The moment the Marquess married the daughter of Duke Dylas — Lady Circe — their allegiance had been all but decided.

And his father was not the type to cling desperately to someone who was leaving.

“Wait a second… Didn’t he say he didn’t even know which family she came from at first?”

Otis’s mouth twitched slightly.
No matter how he tried to piece it together, he kept hitting a dead end.

He just couldn’t follow his father’s logic.

“What is Father thinking?
And if she’s the daughter from the first marriage, her position in the family must be terrible.”

His attendant shrugged, clearly as clueless as he was.

Of course.
Even as his own son, Otis couldn’t figure his father out — how could his poor attendant Marcus?

Still just fifteen years old, Otis let out a sigh that seemed far too heavy for his age.

“Anyway, this engagement won’t happen. I’ll make sure of it. Enough talking — go move those documents.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Otis dressed neatly on the appointed day and left the Glayderth estate.
Since he only planned to glance at the girl and leave, he took only one attendant with him.

But on his way down the corridor, he bumped into his father.

The Duke grinned as soon as he saw him —
an infuriating, knowing smile that made Otis’s teeth grind.

“My son, don’t even think about coming home before dinner.”

“What? Father— Wait, Father!”

No matter how Otis called after him, the Duke walked away without looking back, clearly heading out for a date with his wife.

Otis ground his teeth and turned to Marcus.

“Bring me all the paperwork I was working on.”

“You’re going to work… outside?”

“No choice,” Otis muttered darkly.

Marcus sighed and packed the mountain of documents into the carriage.

Neither father nor son were the type to back down easily.
Normally, the Duchess would have stepped in to mediate, but clearly, this time she had been persuaded to stay out of it.

Inside the jostling carriage, Otis steadfastly read through documents.
At only fifteen years old, he was already an unrelenting workaholic.
Marcus worried about his future — being stuck under a work-addicted boss was never good.

“My lord, we’ve arrived at the Marquess Anastas’s estate.”

“Hold on, let me finish this page.”

Otis calmly finished reading before stepping down from the carriage.

The Marquess Anastas’s estate was smaller than the Glayderth estate,
but thanks to the influence of Lady Circe, who hailed from the Dylas family, it was just as impeccably maintained.

The gate’s twin pillars stood proud, the black iron bars gleamed, and the courtyard was so flawless not even a pebble marred the path.

“Bring the documents with you,” Otis ordered.

Marcus blinked in disbelief.

“Wait, you’re planning to read paperwork in front of them?”

“There’s no better way to show how little I care.”

“What if she slaps you across the face?” Marcus asked nervously.

“Even better,” Otis replied with a smirk.

Even if he was only fifteen, he was still Marcus’s master.
Sighing deeply, Marcus gathered the stack of documents, now thicker than two hand spans, and followed him to the front gate.

When they arrived, a servant from House Anastas bowed low.

“Thank you for visiting the Marquess’s estate. The young lady is waiting for you in the garden. Please allow me to guide you.”

Otis barely listened.
He had seen enough noble ladies before — all desperate for his attention, pulling every trick they could think of.
He was determined not to react, no matter what this girl tried.

Calliope sat at a table prepared in the garden, watching Otis approach from a distance.

Everything was ready.
If she used her memories of the past properly, no matter what he might think, this engagement would never happen.

She rose from her seat and ran toward him with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Welcome, my lord!”

Otis, seeing her sprint over with a bright smile, immediately thought, of course.
He wore the same look all women gave him — as if it were unthinkable they could be uninterested.

Calliope hid a mocking laugh behind her own smile.
Luckily, Otis clearly wasn’t interested in her either.
That would make this even easier.

She personally led him to the table.
The moment Otis sat down, he pulled out a pen and began scribbling on a document —
an obvious, deliberate show that he had no interest in her.

Calliope didn’t mind.
She just kept smiling sweetly in front of him.

‘The young lord isn’t interested. That’s clear.
Which means it was likely his father who forced this engagement proposal.
If he’s even carrying documents to fake cooperation, maybe he wanted to refuse but got pushed into this…’

If that were true, it would be a bit more troublesome —
because even if Otis himself didn’t want it, the Duke might still push ahead.

Which meant Otis would have to very clearly reject the engagement himself.

And so, Calliope launched her plan.

“I’ve heard so much about you, my lord.
You’re even more handsome than the rumors said!”

Otis, pen scratching across the page, glanced up lazily.

“I know.”

“And your voice! It’s so charming.”

“That too, I know—”

“Isn’t that an Autuclé shirt you’re wearing?
And your shoes — Dolex craftsmanship, correct?
Exactly what I heard!”

Calliope knew well that Otis had suffered from excessive attention since he was young.
It was one of the most famous topics in high society.
And today, she planned to exploit that to the fullest.

If she acted even crazier than usual fans, maybe he’d finally run away.

“Your hair shines like it was spun from sunlight itself!
When I first saw you from afar, I just knew —
Ah, you are my destiny!”

“Excuse me?” Otis muttered, blinking.

Still seated, Calliope lifted her arms dramatically toward the sky.

“Do you not hear it?
The divine voice blessing our meeting?
I can hear it! A glorious trumpet!”

Her brilliant red eyes sparkled madly under the sunlight —
no, at that moment, she truly looked insane.

Otis, frozen with his pen halfway lifted, couldn’t even move.

Seizing the moment, Calliope jumped up and closed the distance between them.

“My lord, when do you start your day?
Where do you buy your pens?
If it’s not rude, what is your shoe size? Waist size?
And what about your left ring finger size?”

With every step she took forward, Otis instinctively leaned farther back.
The chair screeched across the ground as it dragged.

“Actually — could you tell me the measurements of all your fingers?
If I ever see a ring on your finger, I’ll surely faint from the thrill!
And what shall be the theme of our engagement party?
What about the wedding attire?
With your golden hair and my silver hair, if we wear white, we’ll look like a pair blessed by the heavens!
I’ve been waiting for this day — and I’ll never let you go!
My lord, Lord Otis, please answer me! Let me hear your heavenly voice!”

“AAAHHH!”

The sight of Calliope’s shining red eyes up close finally broke Otis’s composure.

He shot to his feet, flinging his pen and papers into the air, and bolted from the garden without a second thought.

His attendant, utterly dumbfounded, glanced between Calliope and his fleeing master before chasing after him.

And Calliope, with perfect timing, added the final blow:

“My lord! Even if you’re leaving — at least tell me your waist size! My lord! My lord!”

From far off, another shriek echoed across the grounds.

Lowering her hands from her mouth, Calliope dropped her act in an instant, looking perfectly bored, as if none of that madness had just happened.

Susan, who had been standing nearby, stared at her lady in shock.

“Um… my lady? Why the waist sizes, of all things?”

“Because it sounds creepy.”

“I… didn’t expect you to chase him off like that,” Susan said, wide-eyed.

“It was effective. A little embarrassing, but effective.”

Calliope cleared her throat and turned to head back to her room, only to lock eyes directly with the Marchioness, who happened to be passing by the garden.

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