Chapter 22

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 22

Chapter Title: Tea Time with the Count (4)

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For a moment, our eyes met. Then, as the man held out the tablecloth he was carrying, I finally snapped back to reality.

“Ah, thank you.”

I hesitated before stepping closer and taking the tablecloth. As I glanced up at him, our gazes clashed again. His brown eyes widened round.

“I'm glad.”

“Pardon?”

Elegance seeped even from his soft voice. His eyes, filled with gentle warmth, fixed clearly on me.

I blinked in surprise, wondering what he meant. This time, the man tugged at the corner of his mouth in a smile. As his gaze lingered on me longer than it should, I realized how clearly I could see his face. And the state of my bangs, which had sprung up.

Startled, I quickly pulled them down. Shame burned my cheeks.

“S-Sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because I look like this.”

Because I look so ugly. Someone had said that was a sin. I didn't choose to be born this way, yet people judged me solely on my face, pointing fingers. That's why I covered it and went around like that. With Vincent, since he couldn't see, I'd let my guard down.

“You're pretty.”

“……”

A breeze whooshed past my back. Doubting if I'd heard right, I peeked up at the man. He was still looking at me with that kind gaze. His lingering eyes flustered me.

No one had ever said that to me before. Especially not a man. At a loss for words, I hesitated. Then Vincent's voice came from afar.

The presence I'd momentarily forgotten resurfaced. Oh no. I turned around. Chasing the direction the tablecloth had flown must have put distance between us. From here, Vincent was out of sight. Right now, that was a relief. He was surely groping the air with his hands as he walked. No one could see that.

I'd thought the forest was empty, but there was someone here. With Vincent, this was a dangerous moment. I'd assumed no one was in these woods and told him as much, so I'd been careless.

I looked back at the man. He was gazing toward the sound. I bowed at the waist.

“Thank you.”

Then I turned away.

As I walked quickly, folding the tablecloth, I felt a rough texture. Pulling it out, it was a letter. A letter? Flipping it over, golden lettering caught my eye. This is…!

I turned back. But no one was there.

The man had vanished completely, as if the encounter had been a dream.

A short walk later, I spotted Vincent looking around.

“Master.”

“……”

He halted abruptly at my call, his hurried steps stopping dead. His stiff face turned toward me.

“Sorry I'm late. But there was someone over there.”

As I approached, about to tell him of the man I'd met, he sensed me and thrust out his hand. He seized my arm firmly. It was a strong grip. Before I could react, his hand twisted around my arm and yanked me close.

In an instant, the distance between us vanished. His rigid face before me was marred by anxiety.

“Don't do that.”

“Master?”

“Don't ever do that again.”

His low voice, warning like a murmur, trembled. He reached toward my face with his other hand but hastily dropped it. Instead, he bent at the waist, pressing his forehead to my shoulder.

“Don't leave me alone.”

“……”

A sigh of relief spread across my ear. The hand gripping my arm slid down, interlocking with mine. His large frame pressed against me as if seeking solace. Golden hair draped over my wavering eyes. The warmth filling my palm burned hot.

His anxiety, his fear, and the relief mingled within—it all washed over me.

Only then did I realize how badly I'd messed up.

“S-Sorry.”

“Let's head back. I'm tired.”

“Yes. Let's go.”

I gripped his hand tightly—like a lost child's—and led us out of the woods. I glanced back midway, but thankfully, no one followed.

Entering the annex, I saw Isabella rushing toward us from afar. It was unlike her to move so frantically. She scanned about as if searching, then spotted us returning from our outing and stopped. Surprise flickered across her face before she quickly composed herself.

“Master.”

“What's the commotion?”

“Well…”

That was when it happened.

“Vincent!”

A stranger's voice cut off Isabella—a woman's voice, no less. Simultaneously, someone came running from afar. A young woman in a long dress fluttering as she hurried over. She was stunningly beautiful, someone I'd never seen.

Who is she? I stared wide-eyed. Her gaze fixed on Vincent behind me. Then, as if she'd seen something unbelievable, her face went blank before tears welled up.

“Vincent.”

In that moment, strength tightened in our clasped hands.

The fingertips holding me quivered faintly. I turned to Vincent. Tension etched his stiff face. Puzzled, I looked ahead again. The unfamiliar woman stared intently at Vincent and spoke.

“It's you, right, Vincent? It is, isn't it?”

“……Violet.”

I jumped at the low voice from behind. That woman is Violet? That Violet? Forgetting decorum, I stared at her intently.

Soon, Ethan approached her side. He looked awkward somehow. Spotting me, he waved cheerfully, then glanced down. As if he'd seen Vincent behind me. Feeling the tremors since earlier, I peeked back.

“Vincent. Really…”

Violet took another step toward us. Tears brimmed in her violet eyes, full of emotion. The shaking in our clasped hands intensified. I stepped back. Not of my own volition—he'd pulled me.

“I… I really… missed you so much.”

“Violet, calm down first.”

Ethan blocked Violet as she kept trying to approach Vincent. She glanced at him briefly before fixing her eyes back on Vincent. In that short moment of turning her head, desperation filled her face, as if fearing he'd vanish. Ethan shot us a look while restraining her. Isabella behind them seemed at a loss too.

The dilemma spread to us.

“Um. Master.”

“……”

I whispered to him and shook our clasped hands once. He flinched but gripped tighter. Amid the ongoing tremors, I steeled myself.

I rolled my eyes up and down once, side to side once, then clutched his trembling hand firmly.

“Run, Master!”

Then I spun around. His face flashed with bewilderment as I glimpsed it, but I pulled him and bolted the opposite way. 'Huh? Huh?' voices trailed belatedly from behind, but I didn't stop running.

Straight for his room. Holding his hand tight.

Her fingers, wrapped in white gloves, were long and lovely. They hooked gracefully onto the round handle of the cup. The simple motion of lifting it to her lips was so elegant and beautiful. Her downcast violet eyes and matching translucent golden hair drew the gaze.

Like she was made of sugar. As if popping her into my mouth would taste sweet.

As she brushed her hair behind her ear, she spotted me at the parlor door and widened her eyes. Her large violet eyes sparkled.

“……Pretty.”

“Oh, thank you.”

She smiled shyly. Only then did I realize I'd voiced my inner thoughts aloud. Embarrassed, I bowed my head and set the tray before her. Then my rough hands caught my eye. Knuckles protruding, covered in small scars—they looked so plain. I hastily curled my fingers to hide them and stood.

Glancing up, her violet eyes curved long in thanks again.

Her name was Violet Marguerite. Vincent's fiancée.

And this was a sudden visit.

“We weren't prepared, so it's lacking. Please forgive us.”

“It's fine. I came unannounced.”

Even her words were pretty. Do beautiful faces come with beautiful hearts? Then a pretty face came to mind, and I dismissed the thought. Until now, the prettiest woman I knew was my third sister, Alicia. Her beauty had even won the village lord's son's heart. Her personality was the problem, though.

But this woman exuded elegance just sitting there. Was this noble grace?

“I came unannounced too, so no need to fuss.”

Ethan beside her sipped his tea casually, adding on. It baffled me how he'd returned so soon after leaving. Sensing my stare, he widened his eyes and waved.

“You must be the new one.”

“Yes.”

Isabella gave me a look. I withdrew my gaze from Ethan and bowed.

“Pleased to meet you. I'm Paula. …Please forgive my rudeness just now.”

“Oh, no. Lift your head.”

Even at her words, I bowed deeper. Confused voices rained from above. Only after repeated assurances that it was fine did I straighten. Violet smiled warmly.

“Paula, nice to meet you. I'm Violet Marguerite. You can call me Violet.”

Anyone serving Vincent deserves my thanks. She met my eyes and beamed. Her smile was too pretty. Such a beautiful, kind person exists in this world.

“And really, it's fine. I was too hasty. It wasn't your fault, Paula.”

“Yeah. Don't feel burdened.”

A sly voice chimed in from the side. My sharpened gaze flicked to him. Ethan grinned cheekily. Past experiences made him seem ominous.

“I've heard a lot about you.”

At that, I looked back at Violet, who stared intently at me. Unthinkingly, I adjusted my bangs half-covering my face. Worried she'd seen my ugly one.

“Just as I heard, you're so kind.”

Correcting myself. She was just a wonderful person overall.

“Paula, sit.”

“I'm fine standing.”

“Then next to me?”

Ethan patted the seat beside him. I scowled. But Isabella signaled again. To sit. Reluctantly, I perched lightly on the edge next to Ethan.

He leaned toward me and whispered softly.

“Nice to see you again.”

“Not for me.”

I whispered back and nudged him lightly.