02. The Young Lady and the Lover

9 years ago, 1781.

A maid’s scream rang out.

“Young Miss, where have you gone again!”

Celian, hidden in a tree, giggled.

She lived in a country villa on the outskirts, despite having a perfectly good townhouse in the city. Her father, a general, didn’t have time to break his daughter’s stubbornness, but once a month he would come and lecture about a lady’s education.

On the days when her father returned to the main mansion in the city after finishing his lengthy sermon, she would deliberately roam the garden. Getting mud on her skirt, sometimes getting small scratches from tree branches.

But today’s escapade ended here. A voice that seemed to be scolding her was heard from under the tree.

“Young Miss, please come down. It’s dangerous.”

“Izer, even you’re doing this?”

Celian stuck out her tongue and then lay down on the tree. It was a perilous posture that could make her fall right under the tree if she lost balance.

The man, a year older than her, persistently tried to persuade Celian. With a notebook tucked under his arm, he was too big-boned to be called a boy, but his face was too young to be called a young man.

“Come down. The weather has warmed up. There will be many bugs on the tree.”

As soon as he said that, a spider fell right onto Celian’s face.

“Eek!”

Her body spun around. Celian screamed and thought. I’m falling, falling, falling.

She fell.

……On top of someone. Celian got up with a start.

“Izer!”

The man lying beneath her had his eyes closed and wasn’t moving. What’s this? Is he dead? Did he hit his head when I fell? What should I do? Should I call Uncle Ren… While a thousand thoughts raced through her mind, the man’s eyes suddenly opened.

His eyes were red even when it reflected the sky. Celian burst into laughter.

“Izer, you scared me.”

“I did faint for a moment. Young Miss, you’re heavier than I thought.”

Calling a lady heavy was clearly impolite. Celian got off Izer’s body and moved to the grass.

She dusted off her skirt and protested.

“That’s mean. What do you mean I’m heavy?”

“Anyway, please stop climbing trees. You fell again today, didn’t you? I almost died because of it.”

At sixteen, Izer Ren was the object of admiration for every young maid in the villa. According to the nanny, Izer’s father, the gardener, had also made quite a few maids pine for him when he was young.

The spring breeze that blew in ruffled Celian’s silver hair. The young Lady Berienne sitting and the gardener’s son lying down, it was a sight that would make anyone who saw it faint.

But it was a very natural thing between them. Celian, looking down at his handsome face, said cheerfully.

“In three years, I’ll be of age too. I’ll be old enough to marry. I’m going to tell Father I want to marry you.”

“Young Miss, I’ve told you it’s not possible.”

Izer sighed and got up.

Unlike the noble young lady who had been gently home-schooled in mansions, villas, and carriages, Izer, who had seen and learned about the world in leaky houses, earthy-smelling commoner schools, and on the streets, knew reality.

The man opened the notebook he had put down. Celian’s eyes filled with rapture at the neat handwriting containing all sorts of complex content.

Izer liked the expression Celian made when she looked at his handwriting. His neat penmanship that didn’t get messy even when taking quick shorthand was his great pride.

The man opened his mouth.

“As soon as I come of age, I’m going to take the stenographer exam. I hear they need a lot of stenographers on the battlefield. Stenographers who handle codes get paid much more than regular stenographers.”

“The battlefield is too dangerous……”

“If I can’t go as a battlefield stenographer, I’m thinking of going as a regular soldier. I’m an only son, so enlistment isn’t mandatory for me, but I can’t ignore a soldier’s pay.”

He deliberately didn’t say ‘being dragged’. He didn’t want it to sound like he was blaming Celian’s father who led the war.

Instead, he said,

“No matter how much I work and fight, it’s far from enough to serve you, Young Miss. So forget about someone like me and fly away freely.”

The spring of 1781 was cruelly beautiful. Beautiful enough to share sunlight even with the arrogant commoner youth who left first, ignoring the heart of the sobbing noble young lady.

It was the same in 1782 and 1783. Their springs were beautiful. Even if fewer flowers bloomed and the weather was a bit colder, it was certainly beautiful until 1783.

Perhaps that’s why there was no more beauty left to bestow upon them.

How cruel.

* * *

February 1784.

A modest party was held at Marquis Berienne’s villa.

Celian, dressed in a sky-blue dress, personally saw off the guests. She had her belated birthday party today, several months after coming of age. She wanted to match her schedule with her father’s, but it was simply impossible.

Izer could clearly hear the conversations of the few guests as they boarded their carriages.

“Their fortunes have declined… Only this many guests for the daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony. And they even postponed it, I hear?”

“We came out of old friendship, but it’s not easy for gentlemen to stay close to the Marquis. One wrong move and our heads might roll too.”

“But it seems Count Winston still visits regularly.”

“More precisely, it’s because of his son. That son is famously smitten with the young lady of this house.”

The capital was in turmoil. It was because of the war that was showing signs of defeat.

The entire nation was questioning the purpose of this war. They wailed, asking for what their grown sons had been sacrificed for.

Among the culprits was Marquis Marcotti Berienne. The ‘hero’ of Treven who had insisted on war, saying they couldn’t meet Fairville’s excessive demands.

Marquis Berienne, cornered and about to have his head offered to the enemy country, went out looking for someone to help him. The target the Marquis latched onto was the Winston family. Count Winston, the Minister of Finance, agreed to support the Marquis in exchange for marrying his troublesome son to Celian.

Someone came looking for Izer as he was watching the back of William Winston’s carriage. It was Celian’s maid.

“Izer, the Young Miss asked me to call you.”

Only the minimum number of servants remained in this villa now. This maid too, unlike in the past when she only attended to Celian, must have more work now. As expected, she hurriedly disappeared somewhere after delivering the message to Izer.

The corridor of the villa, with only indirect lighting on, was dark. No one appeared while his long legs walked towards Celian’s room. The bustle of the few servants seemed to be concentrated in the living room, where Celian’s modest coming-of-age ceremony had been held.

The man knocked on the door.

“Young Miss, it’s Izer.”

“Come in.”

Celian was sitting on the bed. As if she had been drinking wine, there was a glass on the side table. Seeing that there were two glasses, it seemed she had ordered to prepare one for Izer in advance.

She called him.

“Izer, come closer.”

Izer slowly moved his feet. Her room was very large, and the bed was far.

Celian looked up at the man standing at the foot of the bed and poured wine.

“Would you like a glass too?”

“You seem quite drunk. You should stop drinking. You… haven’t had much experience with alcohol, have you?”

“It tastes better than I thought. I can see why Father drank so much.”

The wine bottle was almost empty. Izer sighed and took the glass from Celian’s hand. Empty eyes watched as the wine disappeared down the man’s throat.

She sat with her knees pulled up and looked up at him.

“It’s the first time I’m drinking with you.”

Izer put down the glass and turned around. Now that she had drunk, it was time for him to leave.

“If you have nothing more to say, I’ll be going.”

“Izer–.”

Her voice held him back. The man squeezed his eyes shut. Words that shouldn’t be heard tempted him.

“Hold me.”