Silver Lining

Hangul

In the late spring afternoon, the sun's golden rays filtered through the leaves of trees, casting a warm, dappled glow upon the cobblestone path.

A light breeze carried the sweet fragrance of blossoms, wrapping the world in an intoxicating embrace.

A young man and a young lady ambled together casting long shadows on the path.

Cale adjusted his pace to match that of the silver-eyed young lady.

In a subtle move, Cale effortlessly let go of her hand, the transition so smooth that Raisa didn't immediately notice.

Cale broke the silence with a question, his tone carrying a hint of casual curiosity.

"I didn't expect you to come."

Raisa responded with a light smile.

"I just received a special order from your mother a few days ago. Coincidentally, you didn't come to the bakery these days, so I hadn't had a chance to tell you."

The young master tilted his head, his mind working to decipher whether it was truly a coincidence.

Their conversation flowed smoothly, each sentence punctuated by the soft ambiance of their surroundings.

Cale's curiosity sparked another question.

"Since when have you arrived?"

"...this morning."

Raisa, visibly fatigued, replied with a gentle smile.

The weariness on her face was apparent, evidence of a morning spent under the tutelage of the duchess, receiving personal lessons in noble etiquette.

Cale didn't expect to detect weariness in the usually vibrant voice of the young lady beside him.

Attempting to lighten the atmosphere, he jokingly inquired.

"So, who is the one who bullied Our Yeon Hwa?"

His voice, usually devoid of softness, softened slightly in this moment.

Raisa pressed her lips together, giving him a look that resembled a wronged child.

She sighed before opening her mouth, subtly complaining about the noble etiquette lessons she had received from the duchess.

"Your mother is a wonderful lady, but these lessons, Rok Soo-ssi, the elegance, the poise, the refined manner of walking – it's all so tiresome! And don't even get me started on the intricacies of the proper noble greeting. I feel like I'm walking on a tightrope over a pit of judgment every time!"

The young master, ever the attentive listener, offered occasional responses, a simple "hmm," or a noncommittal "un un," but his eyes betraying a subtle amusement at Raisa's predicament.

As they bantered, the weariness in Raisa's eyes seemed to momentarily lift, replaced by the familiar spark of spirited conversation between the two.

Cale's hand gently found its way to the top of Raisa's head, offering a comforting pat as he teased.

"Well, when the opponent is Mother, there's not much anyone can do. Just treat those lessons as a bonus, extra knowledge that might come in handy someday."

Raisa, lifting her gaze to meet his, observed the distinct features of the redhead.

Despite the lack of blood relation, there was an uncanny resemblance between Cale and the duchess, a shared air of dignified and a glint of mischief in their eyes.

"Like mother, like son."

She responded with a slight sulking tone.

Raisa's caring nature shone through as she pointed out.