Chapter 96

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 96

Chapter Title: Still That Strange Guest (10)

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As soon as we got back to the room, I tidied up the back of Ethan's hair. Imagining him wandering around like that until now, I couldn't stop laughing the whole time I was fixing it. When I kept laughing, Ethan rarely scowled and shot me a glare.

With his hair neatly combed back, Ethan suggested tea time again. After a moment's hesitation, I gladly accepted this time. Seeing his face light up with joy made me feel sorry for being so stiff earlier.

We drank tea together and ate desserts. Once we were back in the room, away from prying eyes, he instantly relaxed. His stiff gait softened, his rigidly upright posture slouched, and his sharp edges seemed all dulled—like thorns plucked clean. Sitting on the sofa, his face looked utterly at ease.

I refilled his empty teacup and dug into the cake with a fork. It was sweet and delicious. I offered some to Ethan, but he didn't seem to like sweets much; after a few bites, he just downed his tea. So, all the dessert ended up being mine.

Ethan lounged on the sofa almost lying down as he sipped his tea. With his eyes closed, inhaling the aroma, his body gradually tilted backward. He looked ready to fall asleep again right then.

The teacup in his hand wobbled precariously. I was about to scold him that it was dangerous but changed my mind. If he fell asleep like this, at least he wouldn't chase me around being a nuisance.

Chewing my cake carefully so as not to disturb him, I watched his completely relaxed form, and a sudden curiosity struck me.

"Ethan."

"...Yes."

His reply came a beat late. He must have been on the verge of sleep and snapped back.

"Why on earth were you following me around all day today?"

It didn't make sense that someone who'd been holing up in his room to avoid attention would trail after me just because watching me was fun. Honestly, I wasn't even that entertaining.

At my question, Ethan slowly lifted his eyelids. He blinked a few times, then languidly turned his gaze toward me. The corners of his eyes curved softly.

"I was bored."

"Just because you were bored? Is that really the only reason?"

"I told you, I want to get closer to you, Paula."

"That doesn't sound like a good enough reason."

"Why not? You've been avoiding me ever since we talked last time."

His words hit me where it hurt, and I felt my face stiffen.

I had been avoiding him a bit since the day he brought up the bet. As his attendant, I couldn't avoid seeing him entirely, but whenever he tried to start a conversation, I'd pretend to be busy and slip away.

I was afraid he'd say something else to put me in an awkward spot. I'd been glad to see him again at first, but when he mentioned the bet and toyed with me, it started feeling burdensome. How did he even pick up on that?

"I was honestly hurt. You acted like you didn't want to deal with me at all."

"That wasn't my intention."

"So you were avoiding me."

"..."

"Don't do that. I wasn't trying to make things hard for you. That's the truth."

Even as he said that, it still left me in an awkward position. The extended probation period was one issue, but it also felt bad knowing I'd somehow caught Vincent's eye in a different way. And honestly, I wasn't sure if Ethan— who knew who I was—would really just sit back and watch quietly like he claimed.

But his face looked so genuinely hurt that I couldn't bring myself to argue.

"...I'm sorry."

"I wasn't looking for an apology."

Ethan scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit flustered, then gave a wry smile.

"What are you going to do now?"

"What would you like to do?"

I was getting tired of answering that question, and there were no more urgent tasks anyway. When I asked back, Ethan, who had been sipping his tea with a thoughtful expression, sat up on the sofa. As he set his teacup down with a clink, he plopped right down next to me.

I flinched and scooted my hips away. The sudden closeness sparked my wariness. Ethan beamed at me.

"I'd like to keep talking like this."

"What kind of talk?"

"Oh, this and that. Like, about the bet, for example."

There it was again. I shook my head firmly, my face weary.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Why not? It'd be fun."

"Not for me."

"Just think about it. Whether Vincent forgot you or remembers you."

His heavy words poked at my chest, and I let out a sigh.

"I think he forgot."

"Your mind hasn't changed on that."

"Yes."

"Why are you so sure?"

"There's no reason for him to remember."

It wasn't a good memory, and there weren't any memorable moments worth recalling. I'd said it a million times.

Even if he did remember me, that didn't mean we had to meet. I still didn't want to reveal my identity to him. We'd somehow started talking again, but that feeling hadn't changed.

"It wasn't much of a memory anyway. Even if he remembers, I still don't want to meet. That's not changing."

"Is that how you feel too, Paula?"

"...Yes."

I couldn't answer right away. Ethan's gaze sharpened. He'd caught my lie.

"Why are you so hard on yourself?"

"Because it's the truth. I'm not someone special he needs to remember."

"Paula, how many people have a clear reason for remembering and missing someone? Even if it's not special, it can still be a precious memory to someone."

"Ethan, I was just... in the right place at the right time."

I'd wondered before what it would have been like if I'd met Vincent sooner. Before he gave up on life, before he shut himself in his room waiting for death, back when he still brimmed with vitality and hope despite losing his sight. We never would have ended up like that.

I would have just been a mere servant tending to him, and he wouldn't have spared a glance for someone like me. No, I probably never would have gone to that mansion at all.

It was all just coincidence. I happened to catch the old gentleman's eye when he visited the village, followed him to the mansion, and met a man lost in despair after losing his sight. I became his maid and shared a brief memory with him. That's all.

Everything started from pure coincidence. Nothing as grand as fate.

"The Master was weary of life and tired even of comfort when I happened to go there and serve him. I just did my duty. I wasn't even good with words, so I couldn't offer the kind words others might have. Even without me, he would have come out of there eventually. I didn't do anything special."

I gave a wry smile as I said it.

"So, what you're saying is too much praise, Ethan."

The time we spent together couldn't possibly have been a precious memory for Vincent.

A breeze blew in through the open window. It swept over Ethan and me, as if soothing my turbulent heart. Somewhere, cheerful chatter rang out, but that peace felt foreign to me.

Ethan gazed at me silently.

"Do we seem like amazing people to you, Paula?"

"I can't say we don't."

Even if it was self-deprecating, I couldn't help it. That's the reality of class differences. I knew their lives weren't all happiness, but that didn't put us on the same level. It was a fact that people like me were different from them.

But Ethan just shook his head gently.

"You're wrong. We're not as great as you think. We get hurt by sharp words too, we find comfort in an embrace. We know trust can be thinner and more worthless than a scrap of paper, and sometimes life is so painful we want to die. We live lives that aren't much different from yours—nothing special."

"..."

"And you don't have to be special to be remembered. Don't be so hard on yourself. At the very least, I know you're a good person, Paula."

"What about me makes you say that?"

I was genuinely curious. What did he see in me to say such things?

"Well, you called Lucas a kind person."

"Because he was."

"But Lucas was a huge coward."

"Don't say that."

"Paula. He saw a great truth but turned away from it out of fear. Then he dragged Vincent into it because of his guilty conscience. Do you pity Lucas? Even though he was the one who made Vincent like that."

"Ethan!"

I had no idea why the conversation veered there. I didn't want to hear it. He was gone now. Even if he'd done wrong in life, I didn't want to keep condemning him after death.

When I glared fiercely as if to say stop, Ethan tugged at his lips, as if he knew exactly how I felt.

"Are you mad?"

"Yes, I'm mad. Don't ever say that again."

"You'll get mad again if I do?"

"Yes, I will."

"At me, Paula?"

"Yes. I'll dare to get mad at you, Ethan."

"Spank your butt too?"

No, not that. I paused. Ethan chuckled.

"You know what? I like that you called him kind. I'm grateful to you for remembering him that way."

"..."

"For making Lucas a kind person in your memory—that's how I know you're a good person."

He gently wrapped his hand around the back of mine. Then he patted my twitching hand soothingly, as if to say thank you. His touch felt uncomfortable, but I didn't pull away.

"Still... I don't really get it."

I shook my head, refuting his words. No matter how I thought about it, I wasn't the kind of person who deserved such praise. I couldn't understand or accept what he was saying.

His brown eyes gazed at me with gentle warmth. As if he'd expected me to say that, yet understood anyway. A look of affectionate consideration.

"Paula. Sometimes, people find salvation in the smallest things."

"..."

"Lucas did."

For a moment, my breath caught.

"He grew his feelings from reading your letter replies. Funny, right? Falling for someone whose face he didn't even know, just from a few lines exchanged in letters. Anyone would say it's ridiculous. But that's what Lucas said. He felt so lost, like he was alone in a pitch-black world, and then one line in a letter made him feel like he wasn't alone."

"..."

"Do you get it? That feeling of salvation in despair."

Something sharp and protruding scratched at my throat. I swallowed dryly. But whatever was scraping there didn't go away. Now it climbed to my eyes, stabbing relentlessly.