Chapter 83

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 83

Chapter Title: To You, Whom I Couldn't Erase Even If I Tried to Forget (7)

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I'd told Vincent I'd look into the ink, but honestly, it was nothing more than an excuse to slip away from that moment. And it was riddled with holes. Still, he'd let it go—maybe he'd seen right through my attempt to hide my real feelings, or maybe he just didn't have any grounds to press me on it right then.

I had no idea what Vincent planned to do even if he found out where the ink came from, but either way, I owed him an answer. Just in case, I'd asked Johnny where he'd gotten it. I figured if I told him the source, Vincent might lose interest.

'No clue. I got it through a chain of people.'

'Didn't you say someone you knew had it?'

'It was someone that someone they knew got it from. I didn't think I needed to get into those details.'

'So do you know who that someone-that-someone-they-knew is?'

'How would I? It's like some friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend or whatever.'

'Why's the chain getting longer?'

I wasn't in the mood for word games. When I asked again where he'd gotten it, Johnny—who'd been acting annoyed the whole time—suddenly stiffened.

'Wait, is someone giving you grief over the ink?'

'Not exactly... Just, they want to know where it came from.'

'Why do they care? It's sold all over the place.'

'They said it's not something you can just buy anywhere. Apparently it's really hard to get.'

'R-really? It's that important?'

Johnny stammered in a panic. I frowned. You didn't know? When I asked, he nodded furiously. From his expression, it looked like he really had no idea how valuable the ink was. No surprise there—I hadn't realized it myself until I used it, so he wouldn't have either.

'I-I got it through some contacts too... W-what do I do?'

'Was it someone working for another count's family, by any chance?'

'No idea. I just passed it on to you from whoever brought it.'

'Could this cause problems? Who's complaining? Who? Should I check it out?' Johnny grabbed my arm with a terrified look, badgering me. It took everything I had to calm him down as he fretted about what a disaster it could be.

If it came through a distant acquaintance, it might have some connection to someone in the Christopher Family. Honestly, I was more surprised that Johnny had managed to snag something like this, no matter the route. The person who lent it to him must have been even more resourceful.

Anyway, bottom line: even Johnny didn't know the source. He said he'd look into it if needed, but I didn't push. Finding the origin wouldn't change much regardless. I'd only asked to deflect Vincent's attention. I felt a little bad since he'd helped me out, but it was still better than facing his direct interrogation.

With things like this, I only had one option. I'd pretend to investigate, buy some time, then say I couldn't track it down. It wasn't entirely a lie—figuring out who that far-flung friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend was did seem impossible.

But what would Vincent even do if I did find the person? The question nagged at me, but I decided not to dwell on it. Curiosity like that only invites trouble. He was probably just mildly interested.

The confinement period would end soon anyway. If I could just hold out a little longer, once I left this place, he'd forget all about someone like me in no time. Truth be told, the fact that I'd even run into him again and had this conversation was absurd. Who was I to think otherwise?

On a day when he seemed in a good mood, I'd tell him I couldn't find it. I'd say I'd tried my best but it was too difficult, and apologize. He'd understand. I'd been watching for the right moment in my own way.

It was rest time, so the mansion was quiet. Robert was napping, and I was taking a stroll down the hall for some fresh air.

"Oh, Anne."

I ran into Joelle midway.

"My stockings tore. Want me to grab you a new pair? Alicia just went on break, so calling her back would be a hassle."

I went with Joelle to her room. I checked the design of the stockings she'd been wearing, then opened the wardrobe and picked out the closest match in style and color.

I knelt before her, set her leg on my knee, removed the torn stockings, and carefully slipped on the new ones. She stared intently at me the whole time.

"How's life here treating you? Settling in okay?"

"Yes."

"Nothing too tough?"

"No, ma'am. Everyone's been kind enough to help."

She might think it was just flattery, but there really hadn't been anything too grueling. Tending to Robert was exhausting, sure, but not to the point of death. Well, almost, every now and then.

"How'd you end up here, Anne?"

"Someone told me it was a good job opportunity."

"Oh dear. What if it turned out to be a bad place?"

"You're right. I got lucky."

I checked for any wrinkles, then set her leg down. Joelle smiled her thanks. Clutching the torn stockings, I looked up—and she was gazing down at me from right above.

I hadn't expected to be this close, and it threw me off for a second. Her eyes widened.

"You're not scared at all."

"Pardon?"

"Reckless? Or should I say brave?"

Suddenly, reckless this, brave that—what was she on about? I couldn't follow the conversation, but I answered anyway.

"Not really. I'm pretty cowardly."

"How cowardly? The kind where you're too scared to open your eyes at night?"

"Not quite that bad..."

"That's me. When I'm alone, I'm too scared at night to even open my eyes."

Her abrupt confession made my eyes go wide. She straightened up, propped one leg on the chair, rested her cheek on her knee, and continued softly.

"I'm extremely timid."

"How timid, if I may ask?"

"Hmm. Can't even sleep alone? I used to be scared of being with others, but now I'm more afraid of being by myself. When you're alone, no one knows. If you need help right away, there's no one to save you. Better to have someone nearby. Even better if it's someone you want by your side."

"..."

"Others say the people closest to you could be the real danger, but I still prefer being with someone. Two is better than one, three better than two. The more, the better—whether they threaten me or not."

She lowered her gaze and fiddled with her long hair, twisting a strand around her finger. I glanced at it briefly before looking back up at her. Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact, but it somehow sounded melancholic.

"I feel the same."

"...You too, Anne?"

Joelle glanced up. I nodded. It was sudden, but I agreed with her to some extent.

My relationship with Alicia wasn't much different. We didn't like each other, but we couldn't abandon one another. She needed me to survive; I needed her to remember me. In the end, we were using each other for our own goals. The only reason I'd kept Alicia close was that she was the sole person who could remember my death.

Father was gone, and I'd fled that rundown house. I didn't have friends or anyone close enough to rely on. It was a barren life with no one left beside me. That's why Alicia was all I had. I hated her, despised her even—but with her there, I could feel like I existed.

"No relationship can satisfy everyone."

"..."

"Ah, sorry."

I realized too late that Joelle's expression had stiffened slightly. I'd meant to offer a bit of comfort for her melancholy, but I'd gone on too long. I bowed quickly.

"Why apologize all of a sudden?"

"You seemed upset."

"Not upset, exactly... More like, surprised."

There was no anger in her voice. Good. As I straightened up, a pair of pale hands suddenly cupped my face and lifted it. Golden hair cascaded down on either side. Her face loomed right in front of mine, and my body froze on instinct.

My eyes went wide. My mouth fell open.

I mean.

"Ow! It hurts!"

"Hurts? A lot?"

"Huh? Yes? Ow, ow! It hurts! It really hurts!"

I flailed my hands, pushing her away. Joelle just giggled and wouldn't let go. She pinched my cheeks, stretching them out, squishing them flat, kneading my face like dough.

Finally, she released me as I thrashed with my face all distorted. I crawled away on all fours before I could clutch my stinging cheeks. They were definitely red now.

"Ahaha!"

Joelle clutched her stomach and threw her head back, laughing merrily. What was so funny? I rubbed my cheeks and stared at her in bewilderment.

"Sorry. You were too cute—I couldn't help myself."

"...Ahaha."

'Couldn't help myself'? It hurt too much for that. I forced a smile and composed myself.

"Not reckless, not brave... so diligent, then?"

"Thank you."

"Hm?"

"For thinking I'm diligent. I appreciate it."

I bowed and stood. I rubbed my still-tender cheeks and glanced at the door. Could I go now? I wanted to take back what I'd said earlier. Right now, I wanted to be alone, not with her.

"I heard you did something nice for Robert."

Joelle changed the subject. I answered glumly.

"It was nothing."

"You asked Vincent directly, I heard?"

"Yes. The Master helped, so it's all thanks to him."

When I relayed the news of the reply, Robert just stared blankly, like he was dreaming. When I placed the letter in his tiny hands, he started to cry. He couldn't even open it, so the nanny read it for him. Robert burst into tears.

The letter from Robert's mother said she missed him terribly and longed to see him. Though apart, mother and child's hearts were one.

'Thank you, Anne. Thanks to you, the young master's longing must have eased a bit.'

'No, it wasn't me.'

'But you asked the Count yourself. I heard from the servant who brought the letter. Even though he spoke sternly and it must have been intimidating, your effort shone through. You showed courage first, so it made it easier for me to talk to him too. Truly, thank you.'

'You're too kind.'

'I'm just that grateful. The lady's reply was so late, I was starting to regret it all, wondering if I'd done wrong. At some point, I felt like giving up, just like the young master.'

'Nanny.'

The nanny wore the same expression as Robert—sad yet joyful—as she looked at me gratefully. I felt awkward, not understanding why I deserved such a gaze. It was just a letter. Anyone would think of it, and I'd simply had the chance.

"When people get too busy, they focus only on the present. Longing fades, or they forget for a while. Neither's good. She cried buckets reading Robert's letter, they say. Whoever delivered it, you gave her the chance to read it and reply. Thank you."

"No."

I shook my head firmly. The nanny too—why did everyone keep thanking me? I'd done nothing. I'd only suggested it to keep Robert from climbing on the iron railing again, out of my own selfish desire to avoid trouble. It just happened to turn out well.

Besides, strictly speaking, it wasn't even my doing alone. He'd agreed because the nanny had asked.

"Such a humble person."

Joelle smiled faintly. It didn't feel like a compliment.

"Still, you seem like a good person."

"You're too kind."

"Not a good personality."

Her smile deepened, warmth seeping through.

"A good heart."

"..."

"Want me to tell you something fun?"

She composed her smile and tilted her head slightly, covering her mouth with one hand like she was about to share a secret. As she teased that it was a huge secret, I perked up my ears.

"There's actually another scaredy-cat here."

"Yes?"

"It's Vincent."

My eyes went wide.