Just as Mrs. Wilson had said, the surname Nelson was rare in Skyrim. Over a decade ago, the Nelson family was once renowned here, but after the Nelson Group went bankrupt, their descendants seemed to have vanished without a trace.
Anyone able to marry into the Quigley family had to come from an impressive background themselves, so Lindsay’s own family must be anything but ordinary.
Lindsay smiled and nodded. “I’m not really from Skyrim. I grew up in Haven.”
She wasn't lying. Her parents were originally from Haven—they’d only moved to Skyrim later to start their business.
Mr. Wilson listened quietly, offering no comment. In Haven, there were no prominent companies led by anyone named Lindsay, which could only mean her family was fairly average.
But how could a regular girl like her have crossed paths with someone as untouchable as Mr. Quigley? He’d never believed in fairy tales—Cinderella only gets to meet the prince if she already has the right background.
“That makes sense. There are plenty of Nelsons in Haven,” Mrs. Wilson said, her curiosity shifting to Lindsay and Yves’ relationship. “So, how did you meet Mr. Quigley? He always seems so aloof—wasn’t it tough to win him over?”
“It wasn’t so hard, actually,” Lindsay replied with a laugh. “Yves only seems cold on the surface. He’s much easier to get along with than people think.”
Mrs. Wilson shot Yves a sidelong glance. Since they’d arrived, he’d barely spoken five sentences. Easy to get along with? She didn’t buy it for a second.
“Well, I guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover,” Mrs. Wilson said vaguely, not knowing what else to add.
Lindsay just smiled in response, saying nothing more.


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