Chapter 29

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 29

Chapter Title: Tea Time with the Count (11)

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I hesitated. Should I back off and look the other way, or not?

'Paula, cheer me on.'

Her words from our conversation came back to me. So I mustered my courage.

"Lady Violet said she understands."

"Understands? What does she understand? Is she pitying her blind fiancé?"

"Why would you say it like that?"

"Because that's how it is."

The thorns that had been sticking out sharpened even more. I could see his heart, shut tight as a door. I licked my dry lips and fumbled on.

"You know better than anyone that Lady Violet isn't the type to do that."

"I've learned one thing in life—want me to tell you what? The people I thought I knew best are the ones who turn out not to."

"......"

"They pretend to care about me on the surface, but the moment I show weakness, they think of ways to exploit it. Even the ones I believed wouldn't. They come to see me and check my condition first. Even when my parents died in that accident, they were already calculating how to use their young heir."

I could see the pain he'd endured in his bitter smile.

"Maybe Violet wouldn't, like you say. But those around her? Her family at least won't accept a blind fiancé."

"......So you're just going to keep doing this?"

"I can't forever."

"......"

Watching him shake his head, I realized something. He wasn't afraid of breaking off the engagement with Violet. He was afraid of facing her right now, in his blind state.

He needed courage.

The courage to accept his condition and move forward.

I gently let go of his hand. He released mine without resistance. Leaving him looking unusually drained, I left the room. Then I went next door to my own room and opened the drawer. I hugged a full armful of its contents and returned to his room.

Sensing my presence, he turned from where he'd been about to lie down on the bed.

"Why are you back?"

"Master."

I poured out what I was holding onto him. A cascade of white letters spilled across the bed. They were all the letters from Violet that I'd collected so far.

"These are all the letters Lady Violet sent. I kept them on Isabella's orders."

"......"

He slowly felt over the letters that had poured onto him. There were enough to surround him completely. Of course there were. She'd kept sending them relentlessly, even without replies.

"Lady Violet sent a letter every other day. Even knowing there wouldn't be a reply, she sent them faithfully. Master, I'm not good with words. I can't give you good advice right now. But at least, I don't think this devotion is fake."

It was astonishing that she kept sending letters despite no replies. Every other day, yet the envelopes were thick—that had puzzled me. So I'd peeked inside a few once or twice.

Today I took a walk in the garden. The flowers are so beautiful. I want to show you.

Today I bought a pretty dress. I want to wear it when I see you.

I miss you, Vincent.

The pages were filled densely with her careful handwriting. Nothing special in the content. Daily routines listed out, always ending with I miss you. Looking at the final smudged letters, I could feel her longing for him.

"Things might not go smoothly, like you say, but you still have to face her. Be brave. I think now's the time."

I hoped the person knocking at his door wouldn't grow weary and give up on him. I hoped he'd face that devotion. Even if time passed and she eventually left him, I hoped he'd believe in her now. I hoped he wouldn't lose connections because of doubts like maybe.

"If you want, I can read the letters to you."

"......No need."

He picked up one letter.

"I know what they say. She writes about her well-being, worries about me, says she misses me. That's how they've always been. After I ordered no reading them, I figured the replies stopped coming. Guess she kept sending anyway."

"Yes. Already this many piled up. I think it's rude to keep ignoring someone who worries about you like this!"

Seizing the moment, I shouted with some pride, but he just looked sullen. Wondering why that expression, his next words left me speechless.

"This is all because of your mistake. She said she'd stay after hearing from you, so she's been watching my mood."

"......"

He's really sensitive about this.

Since the incident, I'd ignored the nagging guilt in my heart, brazenly denying it. When I asked if he didn't know her worry for him, he didn't listen. Instead, he felt over the scattered letters on the bed. I could sense his heart in his careful touch. Guess it had some effect.

"Feeling courageous yet?"

"A little?"

Still cold, but.

"I only get nagging from you."

"If you don't like it, just do better."

"You're shameless too."

"That's how I serve you, Master."

Then he smiled faintly.

"Thanks."

What did he just...?

Thinking I'd misheard, I blinked, and he grabbed my hand again. Not the strong grip from before—gentler, ticklish. Soon his fingers intertwined with mine, joint by joint.

"When we practiced talking last time, that 'thanks' was for you. It was hard to say 'I miss you,' which made me laugh thinking about it."

Recalling that moment, he chuckled shortly again. That smile felt unfamiliar. Unfamiliar, yet... familiar. A kind face considering the other person. The face I'd seen then. And it was directed at me.

"Thanks. I mean it."

No, actually, it had been for me.

"I wasn't planning to ignore Violet forever. It's not what I wanted, but since it happened, I have to deal with it. But like you said, I lacked courage. Thanks to you, I feel a bit energized."

He hesitated, lifting his head. His clouded emerald eyes fixed on me. Thanks to practice, he could follow voices with his gaze. Meeting that gaze, I opened my mouth several times but ended up silent.

Our intertwined skin burned hot, his gentle voice tickling my ear. Staring blankly at him, I couldn't think of anything. Warnings thudded in my chest.

The firmly shut door opened a day later. Vincent met Violet. The moment she saw him, she burst into tears. She seemed to have so much to say, but instead vented her sorrow by pounding his chest. Vincent held her and patted her back. She poured out her pent-up grievances in his arms. Ethan patted both their backs too.

"I won't break off the engagement, ever. And I won't tell anyone about your condition. Promise."

"Thanks."

Her silence didn't mean his condition could stay hidden forever. Still, she'd keep that promise. Knowing that, Vincent smiled back.

The three talked all day. Joyful laughter echoed through the mansion for the first time in ages. Watching the handsome couple, I rubbed my chest for no reason.

The next day, they had tea time.

Attendees: Vincent, Violet, Ethan, and me. Feeling out of place, I hesitated, but Violet eagerly pulled me in. When I said I couldn't presume, she'd even gotten Isabella's permission. So a mere maid like me had the honor of joining the nobles' tea time.

It was in the garden behind the annex—the same spot where I'd had tea with him before. Sipping tea there, they chatted about nothing special. Even that made the mood warm and lively.

Then Violet's letters came up.

"Miss Maid. Weren't some letters crumpled?"

"Pardon? Oh, now that you mention it."

"Violet has a quick temper. She probably got mad while writing—no reply—and crumpled them, then smoothed them out. I can picture it."

Ethan chuckled as he said it. Violet punched his side with a shy face. Ethan groaned, Vincent elegantly sipped his tea with a slight smile. Amid that, I fidgeted several times.

I felt uncomfortable. Like I didn't belong. They talked to me and checked on me, worried I'd feel awkward, but I was still an outsider. No shared memories with them. So watching for a chance, I picked up the empty teapot and stood.

Excusing myself to refill it, I tried to slip away—but Vincent quickly grabbed me.

"Where are you going?"

"Ah, the tea's empty. Going to get more."

"No need. Stay here."

"Pardon? But still......"

The lively conversation cut off because of him. Violet and Ethan's eyes turned to me. Feeling like I'd ruined the fun, I panicked, but Ethan chimed in.

"Whoa, Vincent. Anyone'd think the maid's leaving you forever. So clingy. Even if you hate parting, let her go get tea and give her some alone time. How uncomfortable must she be here."

"Oh? Is that so?"

Violet asked if it was true, Vincent waited for my answer. Caught off guard, I couldn't reply right away. Then he released my skirt hem. Unsure whether to thank him, I just bowed and left.

Once away from the three, I could breathe. Guess I really was uncomfortable. Scratching my head, I went down to the kitchen and brewed fresh tea.

I grabbed some sweet pastries from the cook too, then took a long detour back. Truth was, I wanted some alone time. Lately, I hadn't had any. Maybe that's why—this short time felt sweet as honey.

Returning to the tea spot, I saw a new guest had joined.