Frank took a sip of wine after clinking glasses with Titus but soon noticed something as the liquid slid down his throat.

"What..." He frowned, glancing at the dark-red wine.

"Problem?" Titus asked. "That's a special grade Romanee-Conti, imported from Franconia. They produce less than 400 barrels each year, but 200 of those have been brought here expressly for this banquet."

After his commentary, Titus made a look of dramatic realization. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Lawrence—I've forgotten that hillbillies like you never get to experience such fine wine, let alone relish the exquisiteness in its taste."

Nearby, Yonca hid her laughter behind her palm, while other Turnbull family members frowned at Frank too.

Who was he? Why had they not seen him around before?

His very presence was a polar opposite from the glitz and glamor of the banquet hall, so they couldn't help being curious.

Still, Frank wasn't frustrated, even smiling and nodding. "Hehe... There really is something special about this wine that I can't appreciate. I guess only someone as highbrow as you can appreciate it, Mr. Lionheart."

actually

this young gentleman? Is no one going to

they could continue, a woman in her

flamboyant gown

"Hmm.?"

soon

hurried to her, saying, "Please, Marit. He's just a healer who's lodging in our residence because of Mr. Turnbull's illness. He's nobody

murmured and suddenly learned her face towards Frank even as her

was beautiful, her eyes bright and

as

Frank, her smile almost left Frank

breathed sweetly, her lips parting just enough as she

soon enough and twirling his glasses. "I'm just ignorant and therefore misspoke. Since you've brought this wine, I won't be such a buzzkill to shower further contempt—and you know what they say about beautiful women and fine

he nodded

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