Chapter 92

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 92

Chapter Title: Still That Strange Guest (6)

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“Then why run away? You could just stay here and live comfortably. Sure, working for a prestigious count's family might be demanding, but it's still better than scraping by outside. The pay would be way better too. You're on probation now, but someone like you, Paula, would get officially hired in no time.”

“Ethan...”

“Actually, you don't want Vincent to recognize you?”

As if. That would be utterly pointless. What could he even do if he did? I'd put up with all his nasty temper back then, so was I supposed to ask him to treat me kindly now? Or pour out complaints about how his butler tried to kill me?

I shook my head again.

“Ethan. I'm scared of this place. You know why I ran away.”

“Don't worry about that.”

What did he mean by that? I asked, but he just smiled again.

“What do you think? Will Vincent remember you?”

“...He probably will. He called me insolent so often, so I'm sure I left quite an impression.”

“Haha. I can picture it.”

“...”

“Do you think he missed you?”

That... I wasn't sure. Maybe sometimes, during those five grueling years, he'd thought of me once or twice. Back then, things were like this. That day, it was like that. Perhaps on some days he'd reminisced about the good memories, on others the bad ones, lost in the past. But missed me? I doubted it.

No, he probably hadn't. Missing someone meant longing to go back to those moments. There was no way he'd want to return to the days when he was blind. And just recalling the maid who'd endured his temper didn't mean he'd miss her.

“I don't think so.”

“Wanna bet?”

I frantically shook my head. A bet with him? No thanks. My whole body still remembered the ordeal from the last time he'd threatened me into one.

“No.”

“Insolent as ever. Turning down a superior's suggestion flat-out like that.”

“...”

Ethan's face hardened completely. So unfair.

“Ethan!”

“And yelling like that too.”

“Please, please... Don't do this...”

“Why not?”

“Because...”

“Because Vincent might be disappointed?”

I nodded right away.

“Can't he be disappointed?”

“Huh?”

“So what if he is? You say he knows you as someone else. If you're not the person he remembers, every time he recalls those memories, he'll think of someone different. He might feel empty about it.”

“Ethan, that's not...”

“It's fine.”

“...”

“It's okay if he's disappointed. Like you said, he might be let down because you don't match the face he imagined. But so what? Is that really so important? Isn't the more important thing that the maid he knew is alive and right here by his side?”

“...”

“What if Vincent sees your face and says it's okay? Even if everyone else would be disappointed? Have you asked him? Oh, right—you're scared he'll be disappointed. So, you don't like the idea of Vincent being disappointed by you?”

...As if. I'd deceived him, and he'd been deceived by me. It was scary that he'd trusted my lies without suspicion and now would learn they were lies and feel let down. But that didn't mean I hated or disliked Vincent. If anything, I'd understand. Even I disliked myself—how much more would he?

Ethan knew my heart all too well.

“Paula. It's wrong to judge someone else's feelings based on your own selfish assumptions. You think you know what Vincent wants, don't you? Are you trying to paint him as the bad guy?”

“No.”

“Then what if Vincent really did miss you?”

“No way.”

“That's just your guess. Not his actual feelings.”

His firm words sliced through my chest. I couldn't hide my discomfort. He looked at me with that same gentle gaze and continued.

“Everyone carries an invisible longing.”

Those sudden words sounded familiar.

“Not everything is visible to the eye. Just because it's not spoken aloud or shown on the surface doesn't mean it isn't there. And sometimes, people don't even realize the depth of it themselves. That's something Vincent used to say a lot.”

“...”

“Paula, I think Vincent missed you. Have you ever thought about how worried he must have been when the person who listened to him just up and vanished?”

I had. But I'd convinced myself he'd forgotten it quickly. How cruel. What a rotten person I was. Once again, he'd dragged out what I'd tried to bury.

“I respect your feelings, Paula, but I want you to respect Vincent's too. You understand, right?”

“...Yes. I do, but...”

Understanding didn't make it any less infuriating. I barely managed a reply and turned away. I pressed my lips tight and stomped off. I didn't want to face Ethan anymore. The joy of seeing him had soured in an instant. I didn't hate him. But his poking at my insides made me uncomfortable, and I didn't want to be around him.

“Paula, are you mad?”

“Don't call me Paula.”

Even my curt snap didn't stop him from trailing after me. Paula? Paula? Paula! I'd told him not to, but he kept calling my name. Good thing no one was around.

“Let's go see Lucas together later.”

He said it out of the blue. I hesitated, then gave a small nod. Laughter came from behind me. It was so innocently childlike that my irritation eased a bit. A smiling face suited Ethan much better than a stiff one.

As he doggedly followed me, passing maids gave us strange looks. I told him to stop, but he shot back that it wasn't weird for a servant to trail after the person they served. No reasoning with him. I'd once marveled at Vincent's stubbornness, but now Ethan was just as bad.

In the end, I bolted to shake him off. As I suddenly ran, I heard his startled breathing behind me. He had to keep up his curt count act, so he wouldn't chase after a servant.

Once I'd lost him, I trudged back to my room. I was exhausted. It felt like I'd been dragged into something ridiculously troublesome all of a sudden. I let out a deep sigh and muttered some quiet curses at Ethan.

Then, suddenly, someone yanked my arm. I whipped around in surprise—Vincent was standing there.

What? Why was this guy here? He couldn't have come to see me, right? Before I could dwell on it, he asked me directly.

“You're acquaintances with Ethan Christopher, the count?”

“Pardon? Ah...”

Caught off guard by the abrupt question, I glanced down. He followed my gaze to where his hand gripped my arm and gently let go. I stepped back two paces, clasped my hands, and bowed my head.

“Yes. That's right.”

Denying it now would be awkward. But had he come all this way just to ask that?

Lately, Vincent had been treating me like I didn't exist. He didn't need to pay attention to every servant, but his attitude was so blatant that even the nanny watched me warily. Just moments ago, he'd turned away the second our eyes met. This was our first real exchange since that stormy night.

Vincent fell silent, seemingly lost in thought. Just as the quiet stretched too long, he asked another question.

“Did you look into the ink?”

“Ah, that... I'm sorry. I couldn't find it.”

“You couldn't find it?”

His eyes turned fierce. I swallowed secretly, nodded, then bowed deeply and apologized profusely. As his gaze sharpened even more, I fumbled at my pocket. I'd put some candy in there, I thought.

“Then...”

As he started in a ominous tone, someone draped an arm around my shoulders. I turned in shock—it was Ethan.

“Something wrong?”

Ethan asked casually. I grimaced briefly before smoothing my expression. I twisted to shake off his hand, but he held firm.

Vincent's gaze flicked to my shoulder, then to Ethan. His face said, Why are you butting in?

“I had something to ask.”

“Ask what? What is it?”

“None of your business.”

“I'm curious. Tell me too.”

What's his deal? I could read that thought in his emerald eyes.

“What is it? What?”

Not getting an answer from Vincent, he turned to me. Flustered, I glanced between Ethan and Vincent.

“She knew about colored ink.”

“Ink?”

“Yeah. Robert wrote a letter last time, and the ink wasn't black. I've only ever seen that kind in your family. Colored ink. You know what I mean.”

Ethan looked down at me. I opened my mouth with a gloomy expression. I thought it was for sale. Not sure if he got it, but he pondered for a moment before speaking again.

“I lent it to her.”

“What?”

“I lent it to her. Right?”

Stunned by the unexpected reply, I rolled my eyes, but the next question came from Vincent.

“You lent it to her?”

“Yeah. You said you know each other. She used to work at your estate.”

“What?”

“Pardon?”

This time, Vincent and I voiced our surprise together. He stared at me in disbelief, so I quickly schooled my features.

“She said she borrowed it from another servant.”

“You were grilling her so hard, she got scared. Yeah, I lent it to her. She begged to borrow it just for a bit, so I said sure.”

“...”

“And that ink? My father brought it back from abroad years ago. It's been a while, so it might be circulating here now too. No guarantee your family is the only one with it.”

Even with Ethan's explanation, Vincent didn't drop his suspicion. He seemed to be asking if it was true. His stare was suffocating. I had no idea what was going on, but I decided to back Ethan up. Clutching my sweaty hands from the tension, I tried not to show my panic.

“Yes, that's right. I asked, and he lent it to me.”

“Why lie about it?”

“I was scared it might be something huge, and I thought I might have done something wrong, so I couldn't bring myself to tell you. I'm sorry. You went out of your way to grant my request, and I didn't want to cause trouble... My thinking was shortsighted.”

I apologized again and bowed deeply. My head spun wildly. Worried if I'd said the right thing, I mentally replayed the excuse I'd hastily made up. Hiding one secret by weaving a bigger lie made my heart heavy.

“Curiosity satisfied now? Lighten up that expression. You're scaring me.”

Ethan smoothly interjected again.

“I'm torn. Whether to believe you or not.”

“Why?”

“You're good at lying.”

Was it my imagination? Vincent's words had a thorny edge.

I lifted my head slightly. He was looking at Ethan now, not me. Those emerald eyes, faintly narrowed, somehow looked menacing.