Chapter 26

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 26

Chapter Title: Tea Time with the Count (8)

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When I suddenly let go of his hand, Vincent furrowed his brow.

"What's wrong?"

"……."

"Hey."

Still no response from me, so Vincent reached out. It was his habit when he couldn't see—feeling around to sense his surroundings. Even now, his hand groped through the empty air, searching for something to touch.

See? He really can't see.

I finally let out a sigh of relief.

"Ah, no. It's nothing."

I shook my head to calm my racing heart. Then, slyly, I waved my hand in front of his face. His vacant eyes didn't even twitch beneath his eyelids.

I'd been overthinking it. As if he could see.

"But why'd you suddenly go quiet?"

"I was just... checking if your face was positioned right. Ah, this looks good now. You can look like this."

I sat back down on the opposite sofa. I rubbed my chest, where my heart had clenched tight and now eased. A sharp prick made me turn my head—Ethan was staring right through me. When I met his gaze with a questioning look, he grinned mischievously.

"Vincent looks a bit more lively, doesn't he?"

"What are you talking about all of a sudden? More importantly, how does it feel?"

"It's perfect. Ah, but try not to grope around like you did just now. It'll look suspicious."

"Hm."

He glanced down at his own hand. That was a habit from when he could see. Then he lowered it, feeling along the table until he found his teacup and lifted it. He seemed to be practicing if the posture felt natural in this position.

"Relax your expression a bit. And your posture's too stiff. Try to loosen up."

"How?"

"Just sit like you normally do."

He fell silent, pondering what "normally" even meant. Ethan chimed in, suggesting he at least cross his legs. Vincent hesitated before crossing them. When Ethan remarked it still looked rigid, he leaned back against the sofa's armrest this time. Finally, he looked somewhat relaxed.

"Alright, Vincent. Now, why don't you have a little chat with the maid?"

"What?"

"Pardon?"

Vincent lifted his head. I turned back to Ethan.

"Conversation needs practice too."

Ethan patted my shoulder and looked at Vincent.

"Come on, Vincent. Pretend the maid is Violet and talk to her."

"What about?"

"Anything. Talk about the weather or whatever."

Ethan sat down next to me. Vincent scowled at the abrupt demand. I glanced back and forth between them in confusion.

"Or should the maid start? Go on, maid."

"Pardon? Oh, um."

"Relax. Pretend you're Violet and talk to Vincent."

What was I supposed to say first?

I racked my brain. Beside me, Ethan kept repeating "pretend you're Violet."

How had Violet been? What kind of person was she? Imagining her sugar-white, pretty face, I moved my lips.

"Wh-what happened all this time? Why haven't you come to see me?"

"Violet wouldn't say it like that."

Too stiff. The correction came immediately. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat.

"Vincent."

"Awkward."

"Vi-Vincent."

"Don't stutter."

"Viiincent~"

"What? What's with that?"

Imitating a sweet, honeyed, cute voice made Vincent grimace. He looked like he'd heard something he wished he hadn't.

"Reeeally. What happened? Huuuh?"

"Creepy. Stop."

He recoiled in genuine horror, setting his cup down like he was tossing it. It might shatter. I frowned at the cup. It wobbled a bit but thankfully stayed intact.

I placed it back in position and sat down again.

"Pretend I'm Violet."

"How am I supposed to imagine that when it's weird?"

"Is it weird?"

"Weird."

So blunt.

"Still, imagine it. Practicing now means you'll act natural when you actually meet Violet. Imagine it like when I read to you. Just imagine."

"……."

Come on, hurry up. I boldly urged Vincent. He sighed, then moved his lips.

"It's been a while."

He started calmly. I replied right away.

"Viiincent. Reeeally."

"……Better make it stiff. I feel like throwing up."

"Why didn't you come see me? Do you know how worried I was? What happened in the meantime? Huh?"

I switched to a stiff tone, correcting my voice. He took a breath. I could hear him muttering "Violet, Violet" like he was hypnotizing himself. Was it that bad? I inwardly scolded my terrible acting skills, but Ethan was clutching his stomach beside me, on the verge of suffocating from laughter. His grinning face bordered on tears.

"Sorry. As you know, I've been out of sorts. There were some dangerous things too. So... my nerves were on edge. I didn't want to meet you and say something harsh. And since I'm not safe yet, I worried you'd be in danger too. I planned to see you once I'm secure and recovered."

"Then why didn't you reply to my letters? If you were worried about me getting hurt, you could've at least written back."

"Didn't think of that. Sorry."

"I was worried about you. No replies, and when you came to see me, you wouldn't show your face. I wondered if you'd come to hate me."

"No way."

Surprisingly, the conversation flowed smoothly. I tossed out questions Violet might ask, and he answered promptly. I couldn't tell if he'd prepared beforehand or was improvising, but it was seamless.

"Sorry for worrying you. It really wasn't because I dislike you. Don't misunderstand."

"You're okay now, right?"

"Yeah, much better. I said I'm still recovering just to cool my head a bit, so don't worry too much."

Is this good enough? The dialogue had gone well, and throughout, he'd kept facing straight ahead without moving, just as I'd taught him. Knowing our gazes were "meeting" made it feel less strange.

I mentally reviewed Violet's lines again, wondering if I'd missed anything. Then I realized the most important one was absent.

This is something she'd definitely say. Holding back the words she'd desperately utter, I cleared my throat again. Hm.

"Mi, mi."

"Mi?"

"Mi, mi, mi……."

I repeated "Mi, mi, mi..." unable to continue easily. Vincent tilted his head. I nervously licked my dry lips several times. Saying it myself felt too embarrassing. The words were unfamiliar even in my mouth. Hesitating, I squeezed my eyes shut and blurted out the crucial line.

"I missed you!"

"……."

Even after forcing it out, I couldn't open my eyes for a long while. I couldn't face Vincent. My cheeks burned, so I rubbed them. Peeking open, I saw Vincent with a blank expression. His surprised eyes blinked a few times, then drooped softly.

"Really?"

A gentle voice flowed out. Not hoarse or cracked, nor sharp with anger. Relaxed, a touch playful. His eyes lowered slightly, then lifted. The corner of his mouth curved into a charming smile.

He was smiling.

His affectionate gaze sparkled.

"Thank you."

His sweet voice held consideration. His kindly smiling face felt unfamiliar, but I couldn't look away. It was the face I'd seen during tea in the garden. No—even more affectionate... gentler.

I shouldn't be seeing that face. It's not for me. I bowed my head deeply. I couldn't meet his eyes.

"I'm really fine now. So......"

He said something, but it didn't register. I clenched my fists and steadied my breath. Was it because I'd seen something unfamiliar? My heart pounded wildly. Like I'd stolen a glimpse of a secret I wasn't meant to see.

Thump, thump, thump.

This is weird.

Too weird.

"……maid, ……miss, ……Maid!"

"Yes!"

I clutched my chest and snapped my head up. Ethan was staring at me with wide eyes.

"Why are you so startled? Looks like we're done."

"Ah, yeah. Seems good."

Well done. I murmured lightly and stood from the sofa. Good thing I had bangs. They hid my flushed face.

"Keep conversations short. If it drags, she'll notice something's off. Say you're tired or whatever and end it first. Violet would never cut it short."

"Got it."

"Good. Posture's set, conversation's fine. Next is important too. Stand up for now."

Vincent gripped the sofa arm and rose slowly.

"Then just walk out."

"How?"

"I'll map the path."

Ethan rearranged the furniture to make it easy for him to pass. He pushed the sofas on either side of the table back a bit to widen the aisle. Especially the one on Vincent's right—he made extra space between it and the table. After surveying the parlor, Ethan beckoned me.

"Alright, maid. Tell Vincent how to exit."

"Me?"

"Together."

Ethan grinned. I reined in my wandering thoughts and approached Vincent. He stood there blankly. That face from moments ago seemed like an illusion. But it still floated in my mind. I shook my head to dispel it.

"Master, I'll guide you by the hand."

Then I hesitated before his hand. I didn't want to hold it. Why? It had been fine until now. I flexed and unflexed my fingers nervously before lightly grasping his fingertips.

"This way."

"Why are you acting weird?"

"Pardon?"

He furrowed his brow at my question. Then he grabbed my hand firmly.

"Don't hold it half-heartedly. You have to catch me if I fall."

"M-me?"

"What?"

"No, right. Yeah, I'll do that."

Even as I said "Hold on tight," I squirmed to slip away in his grasp. He squeezed harder, as if refusing to let go. Startled by his grip, I panicked. Pretending not to notice, he urged me to guide him quickly.

In the end, I led him with our hands forcibly linked.

"M-memorize the path well."

"Will do."

I couldn't figure out why my chest kept tickling.