Aristocratic Upbringing

Lynch felt full of trepidation.

The sun had already dipped low, and it was evening; dinner had been set upon the table.

The dinner was actually quite lavish.

The main course was fresh lamb hind leg. Mrs. Maggie had specifically traveled several kilometers to a butcher shop in the Crown District to buy it; slums like the King District did not sell such fresh, high quality lamb.

Lynch had taken a look while it was cooking. The tenderest lamb was simmered for an hour in a newly opened bottle of ordinary red wine, then small chunks of turnip and potato were added. Watching the thick soup bubble on the stove, with brown meat, red turnips, and yellow potatoes bobbing in the churning broth, was quite a sight.

As the liquid roiled, a rich, savory aroma wafted out, accompanied by the sound of the bubbling broth, making anyone who heard and smelled it instinctively imagine the delicate, mellow, tender, and springy texture of the lamb.

Also purchased from the Crown District was soft, fresh bread from the Vick Bakery, paired with the freshest seasonal vegetables from Charles Square at the doorstep. For a common family, this was a luxury they would not even consider on a holiday.

Yet, Lynch remained uneasy because he had accidentally invited Miss Valente to dinner.

After discussing the case that afternoon, they decided to go to the Black Cat Theater after dinner to further organize their intelligence. Lynch had then subconsciously asked offhandedly if she would like to have dinner together, saying that if she did, he would go tell Mrs. Maggie to prepare a bit more.

This was a perfectly normal thing. When he first moved in, Officer Natalie had come over for dinner, and during the time he was recovering from his leg injury at home, that woman had almost come over every day to mooch off his food and drink, leaving Lynch unable to express his anger or voice his complaints. Thus, Lynch had asked without thinking, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it.

This young countess was from a noble background; any random item she pulled out was a premium, unbranded specialty. She was even accompanied by five or six servants when sent to Rhine. Was it really appropriate to have such a person stay for dinner at his home?

Lynch did not know; his mind had just suddenly gone blank, and he had issued the invitation. Only afterward did he recall the behavior of the nobles he had seen at the party last night.

Especially Princess Chloe's arrogant and overbearing attitude, as if she were superior to everyone else. Being of high nobility himself, Lynch was very worried that Miss Valente would display that same attitude toward Mrs. Maggie and little Martha during dinner.

That would be a very unpleasant affair, and he did not wish to hurt Mrs. Maggie or little Martha.

But the invitation had already been extended, and the key was that the girl had actually agreed.

Does your family not have a dedicated chef on twenty four hour standby? Why did you agree just because a commoner made a casual invitation? To be so enthusiastic about mooching a meal at a commoner's house, where is your aristocratic restraint?

But the matter was settled, and no matter how uneasy Lynch was, he could only push through the dinner.

The food was indeed delicious, especially the lamb, which lived up to the half hour journey Mrs. Maggie had made, but to Lynch, it tasted like wax. His attention was focused entirely on the three ladies.

The two blond ladies, one large and one small, did not know the status of this beautiful stranger; they only knew she was someone of importance. In little Martha's words, she was one of those people from the outside.

Perhaps because of this, at the start, the two ladies harbored a faint sense of hostility toward Miss Valente. Little Martha, in particular, looked at Miss Valente as if she wanted to bite someone. Lynch could not scold her in front of the noble lady, so he had to threaten her with his eyes from time to time, which only made the little one's gaze grow more fierce.

But soon, Lynch relaxed, and the attitudes of the two ladies softened significantly.

This was because Miss Valente was actually eating with great enjoyment. Not only did she not disdain the ingredients, tableware, furniture, or environment, but she even asked for a second bowl of soup.

Girl, you really did come here just to mooch a meal.

Seeing the playful look Miss Valente secretly cast his way, Lynch suddenly smiled.

He realized that this girl had likely seen through his worries long ago but was holding back, intentionally teasing him to make him worry. It angered Lynch into a rage, and he picked up another piece of bread on the spot.

One can only say that if nobles are willing, their methods of handling situations are simply beyond what a commoner can cope with. By the end of the meal, the landlady and little Martha already held Miss Valente in high regard. Little Martha even proactively invited this 'person from the outside' to come over often, scaring Lynch into quickly chasing her away.

The difference in lifestyle habits was too great. Others willing to adapt to your habits was a sign of their good upbringing, but taking their kindness for granted was wrong. One had to maintain a sense of proportion in certain things; it was better to get used to it slowly.

It was the first time he had reasoned with the little thing. Little Martha listened, seemingly half understanding, but she still nodded vigorously and retreated into the kitchen with her mother.

"Do not misunderstand. A princess like Chloe still carries the heavy mannerisms of a merchant and is closer to a nouveau riche. You cannot imagine all nobles to be like her."

After leaving Apartment 221, the two did not exchange polite pleasantries like thank you. They just smiled with a tacit understanding as Miss Valente explained softly:

"Flaunting wealth before the poor, health before the sick, or power before the weak—true medieval nobles disdain such behavior that lacks upbringing. Some say this is the arrogance of superiority unique to nobles, but I feel that even if it is arrogance, it is the kind of arrogance most people are willing to see, an arrogance worth upholding."

"So..." Lynch looked at her with a very sinister gaze, "You really did it on purpose, didn't you?"

"Hee, who told you to worry that I would behave rudely?" Miss Valente walked with her hands behind her back, her footsteps light. She turned her head and offered a clean smile, "Since I have been a guest at your home, it means we are already friends. Next time, it will be your turn to visit my home. Hehe, refusing now would be too impolite."

Darn, he had been tricked. This noble lady was truly cunning.

Lynch looked at the cunning, joyful smile before him, which felt like that of a jungle sprite, and was momentarily mesmerized.

"Cough, cough!"

Tsk, you old geezer, you are really quite something.

Awakened by the vigilant old butler, Louis, Lynch looked at the pistol hidden in the old man's clothing and decided not to hold it against him.

Lynch had not thought about inviting the old butler inside earlier. Even if he followed protocol and did not eat, he could have rested in the living room, but the old butler had refused under the pretext of watching the carriage. It was as if the carriage would be stolen the moment he turned his eyes away. Well... but considering the security in the King District, Lynch said nothing more. He handed the remaining pieces of bread to the old butler who had been waiting all afternoon, tipped his hat to the old man, and then followed Miss Valente into the carriage.

It was getting dark early in June in Rhine. At just seven o'clock, the streetlights were already lit, and the crimson moon had revealed its head from the horizon.

In front of the Black Cat Theater in the Crown District, the number of vehicles had begun to increase. Gentlemen and ladies, fragrant and dressed in fine clothes, were converging from all directions of the city.

They were not here for socializing today. The two did not behave with their usual excessive flair, simply driving the carriage directly to the theater entrance. Lynch then jumped out first to fulfill his duties as a gentleman, helping Miss Valente out of the carriage.

However, just as they stood still at the entrance, the theater manager, whom he had met once before, appeared before them.

He was still wearing that distinctive yellow robe, keeping his head lowered, with his hood pulled up to hide his features. Only two vertical green pupils scanned back and forth across Lynch and Miss Valente's faces from under the hood.

"Countess Valente, Mr. Lynch Levive, please, the two of you..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Lynch suddenly smelled a thick, fishy odor drifting over from behind him.

The yellow-robed theater manager, who had kept his head bowed, suddenly raised it, looking in the direction from which the fishy smell drifted.

At the same time, Lynch felt a bizarre and dangerous aura approaching rapidly from behind.

What is that?

Lynch spun around abruptly, his right hand reaching into his lapel to grip his pistol, his gaze fixed on what was behind him.