Several days had passed since my meeting with Eric.

“Miriam. I need to go out.”

“Yes, Miss.”

After confirming that Miriam had begun preparing for our outing without question, I finished the remaining tea. Outside the window, the roses remained red and clear.

I could hardly believe my wedding was tomorrow. Absently, I poured water into my empty cup again and stared blankly outside. Though yesterday had been incredibly busy with wedding preparations, today felt strangely calm. The venue, invitations, and dress had all been checked multiple times, and I had memorized every movement I would need to make.

The preparations were perfect. No, that wasn’t quite right—there hadn’t been much to prepare in the first place.

Duke Winter, who had just turned seventy this year, was an elderly man with limited mobility. Because of this, apart from making lifelong vows before a bishop, the ceremony would differ significantly from an ordinary wedding.

After the ceremony—which would be more splendid and shorter than any other wedding—I would board a carriage heading north before noon. No reception, no celebration, no lingering attachments.

Regardless, this would be my final farewell to this place.

“Miss, may I arrange your hair?”

“Go ahead. No need to be elaborate.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Soon Miriam’s cool fingertips brushed against the nape of my neck. The soft sound of brushing filled the air, and my black hair, which reached my waist, was neatly braided and fell below my chest. After finishing with my hair, Miriam promptly presented me with light outdoor clothing, completing all preparations in an instant.

With Miriam carrying a parasol behind me, we were passing through the corridor when it happened.

“Where are you going?”

“To see you, Count. I thought I might go out briefly.”

“You’re not having any foolish thoughts, are you? Brote Veritatis.”

“No, Father. It’s just that, thinking today is my last day here—”

“I understand.”

The Count waved his hand dismissively, cutting off my words as though he didn’t want to hear the rest. He moved away down the long corridor. I watched until his retreating figure grew smaller and finally disappeared before turning away.

* * *

“There are so many people.”

This slipped out when I slightly opened the carriage window to look outside, wondering if we were moving forward at all given our lack of progress.

“It’s the final day of the festival, Miss.”

Miriam, sitting across from me in the carriage, answered in an equally soft voice. Only then did I notice the colorful flower arrangements decorating the square. It took me a moment to recall what day it was and how I had deliberately scheduled the wedding for the day after the festival.

“So it’s already that time.”

I felt strange. Truly.

After closing the window I had opened just a hand’s width, I tapped the front wall of the carriage. The coachman understood my signal to stop and halted the carriage. Taking Miriam’s hand as she exited first, I stepped down from the carriage and was immediately hit by a flower scent so intense it made my head ache.

‘Brote. You smell just like these flowers.’

Suddenly my chest tightened, and I hunched over. I could hear Miriam shouting something nearby, but I couldn’t move a finger. My breath caught in my throat, something pressing down hard on my windpipe.

“Miss! You there, quickly take the young lady to the infirmary…!”

But then, like a lie, I felt completely fine again.

“I’m… fine. I’m fine, Miriam.”

“Miss? Your complexion…”

“I just need to rest a little. I want to stay here.”

“Then I’ll check if there’s somewhere you can rest.”

Without arguing, Miriam checked with the guard and coachman before rushing toward the center of the festival. I could feel the guard and coachman looking down at me with faces full of things to say, but I deliberately turned my head away, pretending not to notice.

I didn’t want to go back. Not yet.

“I’m sorry. Because of the festival, I couldn’t find anywhere to sit.”

After some time, Miriam returned with her head bowed.

Revealing my identity hidden beneath my robe would certainly create space for me, but I didn’t want to go that far. Instead, I pointed to the fountain in the center of the square. Miriam immediately supported me upon seeing my gesture, with the guard’s footsteps following behind.

“I’m thirsty.”

After spreading a handkerchief for me to sit on and placing the open parasol in my hand, Miriam earnestly requested that I not move while she went to find something to drink. I waved my hand at the remaining guard.

“You, follow Miriam.”

But he pretended not to see my gesture and looked away. I wanted to be alone, but as usual, only Miriam moved according to my wishes. I turned my gaze away from the guard with his stiffly set face.

The open sky was clear—lighter than dawn and spotted with white patches, yet still brilliantly blue and impossibly high, without a hint of shadow.

‘Brote, look at this. If you turn your back and throw a coin into the fountain, your wish will come true. Here, it’s your turn, Brote.’

‘Brote, did I tell you? Among the new students this year…’

‘Brote, is it delicious? Next year…’

‘Brote, Brote, Brote…’

Memories, both real and false, surged like a flood. They came from unexpected places, truly suddenly. I jumped up like a startled deer.

“I need to go back.”

There was nowhere I belonged.

Thus, my impulsive outing ended very briefly. I boarded the carriage returning home, hearing footsteps following behind me. Only when the carriage door closed with a thud did I realize I had left Miriam in the square, but by then the carriage had already departed.

* * *

The mansion was unusually noisy. Just as I was about to grab a servant carrying refreshments to the reception room to ask who had arrived, the door to the reception room flew open.

“Hey, when is Brote coming back?”

“Oh, um… she hasn’t been gone long, so it might take a while? I’ll go ask the head butler right away. Miss Hopper, just a little longer…”

“Edith.”

I waved my hand at the fidgeting maid and called out to Edith as she turned around. The girl with reddish-brown hair flowing loose to her waist, wearing a dark blue academy uniform pressed down to her ankles, whipped her head around.

“…Brote? You… you wretched girl!”

Bursting with anger, Edith rushed up to me and grabbed my shoulders firmly. Swollen cheeks, reddened eyes, thin long scratches decorating her forehead, and white scalp visible through her parting, which was combed in a different direction than usual. I was momentarily speechless at Edith’s unexpected appearance.

“How could you! Not a single message this whole time! Did I have to hear about your wedding from someone else? And what? Duke Winter? Why him of all people? Why!”

Well, yes. I had anticipated this moment since I decided not to send her an invitation, but I hadn’t expected Edith to look so disheveled.

I felt conflicted—wanting to ask who she had fought with, yet also wanting to leave it unspoken. I didn’t want to hear about “rumors” and “Ariel” from Edith’s lips too, but I wanted confirmation that she had been angry on my behalf.

“Edi—”

“Eric.”

“……”

“……”

Plop. A teardrop suddenly rolled from Edith’s forest-green eyes.

Edith was crying.

No sooner had I wiped away the tears streaming down her swollen cheeks than more droplets flowed down.

This was a first—seeing Edith cry.

“Eric, that idiot… did he?”

“Edith.”

“That bastard… told you he wanted to break off the engagement—”

“No. No, Edith—”

“Don’t defend him in front of me, Brote. It makes me feel like I’m going to lose my mind with anger. How dare he… to you! Brote, you loved him so much…”

Eric, Edith, and I first met at a small social gathering hosted by Mrs. Brandon. After that, the three of us were always together. Even after Eric and I got engaged, even after Eric and Edith left for the academy. For years afterward.

“Fool. You’re… really a fool too.”

Silly Brote. Stupid Brote. Naive Brote.

Muttering these words over and over with various adjectives before my name, Edith buried her face against me. Then she burst into muffled tears. The small back I had instinctively embraced heaved breathlessly on my behalf.

There was no point now in asking Edith who she had fought with. Rumors about me had always circulated in both society and the academy despite my absence, and each time, Edith had grown angry as though it were her own affair. This time would be no different. So I knew without asking.

I swallowed my question and patted her delicate shoulders gently.

Even while noticing servants peeking into the corridor at Edith’s scream-like cries, I simply continued patting her shoulders. The butler, who had rushed over after hearing the commotion, dealt with the servants, clearing the corridor. And Miriam, whom I had left at the square, returned to the mansion and appeared at the end of the opposite corridor.

“I’m not going to your wedding.”

“…Alright.”

“I can’t even congratulate you.”

“I understand.”

That night, Edith—with her swollen cheeks, eyes, and lips—and I lay together on the same bed for the first time in a long while.