Chapter 22 – Glory on the Back of the Hand

“Mr. Robert, I thought you’d left Manolie for good, but it’s nice to see you again.” 

Grandma Elodie greeted him warmly. Compared to the last time she saw him, he hadn’t changed much except for his features becoming a bit sharper. He was still handsome, very tall, and carried himself with poise.

‘No wonder the village maidens craned their necks waiting for him.’

This heartless young man hadn’t visited Manolie even once in the past four years. Every summer, maidens would hang around Hawthorn Mansion, hoping to see him, but eventually gave up. Finally, this year, they left for other resorts without regrets. Who could have guessed he’d return this year? If they’d known, maybe some wouldn’t have gone on vacation. At least five names came to Grandma Elodie’s mind.

“It’s been a while, Madame.”

Robert bent his waist and kissed the backs of Grandma Elodie’s and Grandma Rollo’s hands in turn, then straightened up. Grandma Elodie playfully pushed Sasha, who was standing awkwardly.

“That’s unfair. In Laurent, do you only bestow such glory upon married women?”

Of course, she guessed that the old noble custom of kissing the back of a lady’s hand was practiced everywhere. Besides, until today, this dignified, time-honored gesture was nothing but a mythical fantasy in Manolie—like a gentleman in a frock coat and silk hat.

Grandma Elodie gladly pretended not to know, hoping to give her granddaughter a small delight.

“Since I’m in Manolie, I’ll follow its rules. If the young lady permits.”

Responding smoothly, Robert lifted Sasha’s hand, the last one he hadn’t kissed, and bent over to gently press his lips to it. Sasha hadn’t even realized what was happening.

The greeting lasted longer than Sasha expected. She couldn’t tell if it was because of actual time or because it felt as if time had stopped. At least, it wasn’t like the joke she’d heard about a fly landing and taking off. His nose pressed against her hand, and a warm breath escaped between his closed lips.

After finishing the greeting, Robert released her hand, which was so small compared to his. He seemed unaffected. Sasha pretended to be calm, but the spot his lips had touched burned. How did women in Laurent receive such greetings so casually? If this was what it meant to be a lady, Sasha felt she could never become one.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt your walk. Were you on your way back to the mansion?”

Grandma Rollo asked, and Robert shook his head.

“No. I just came out after lunch and haven’t walked long yet. The weather’s nice, so I plan to stroll a bit more.”

“Good idea. We’d like to join, but we need to head home. My granddaughter’s been in the sea too long and might catch a cold.”

Grandma Rollo glanced at Sasha, adding that she often suffered from colds even in summer.

“That’s fine. Too bad, but let’s save the walk for another time.”

Grandma Elodie, catching his polite reply, chimed in again.

“Will you be out for a walk at this hour every day? If we meet again, can we greet you again?”

“As long as I don’t disturb you three, I’d be happy to.”

Satisfied, Grandma Elodie went back to tidy up their spot. Robert helped fold the parasol. He saw off the Vinoche family, then continued his walk.

After they’d gone far enough, Grandma Rollo spoke to Sasha.

“He’s quite different from what you told me. Absolutely flawless gentleman.”

Sasha had told her grandmothers that Mr. Robert was a fine gentleman but somewhat hard to approach, so she was confused.

“Yes, maybe I was wrong.”

She sensed something strange. He acted differently when alone with her compared to with others. Whether intentional or not, he behaved oddly only toward her. Why? Why was the gentleman, so polite to everyone, difficult only with her? He was both kind and cold, drawing close only to distance himself again.

“It’s lucky Mr. Robert came to Manolie. You won’t be bored this summer.”

Grandma Elodie whispered, smiling like a young girl. Hearing her familiar voice, Sasha thought about this summer—how many sleepless nights she might have.

* * *

“Sasha, your clothes smell of hyssop again. Did you visit Mr. Bertland’s shop?”

Grandma Rollo complained about the scent on Sasha’s clothes.

“I ran out of a few things, so I went yesterday evening. I guess the smell stuck while I was picking things out.”

“No wonder. That man should quit pipe tobacco. If he keeps filling the shop with smoke, he’ll surely die young.”

The grandmothers discussed the tobacco smell Sasha often brought from Bertland’s shop, the man’s health, and the relationship between smoking and longevity. Robert listened to their trivial conversation and walked in step, thinking about the pleasant weather.

The two grandmothers went for a walk on Manolie beach every day at the same hour, taking their granddaughter. One believed that sun and salt air therapy helped her lethargy, the other enjoyed watching her granddaughter swim and reminiscing about her youth.

Judging by circumstances, the young granddaughter probably swam in the sea every time she came with her grandmothers, but since Robert’s arrival, Sasha rarely jumped into the water. As if she felt a gaze on the back of her head, Sasha turned and approached him with her hands behind her back.

“Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to come out every day. I’ll explain it to the grandmothers.”

“You don’t find me uncomfortable?”

Robert asked without thinking.

“Why would I?”

He stared at her bright green eyes, which responded provocatively. Sasha soon laughed again, but even her cheerful laughter couldn’t erase the awkward tension between them.

Something had changed. That day, Robert saw a girl in a hat walk out of the sea, her long limbs languid from swimming. Her wet red swimsuit clung, revealing her graceful form.

Robert felt a troublesome impulse. It was close to desire, but not only that. A fiery heat rising to his head—a strange sensation trying to dominate him. The unpleasant feeling of losing control surely came from her. It was as if a foreboding message had arrived from a future that shouldn’t happen.

When he realized the girl approaching was Sasha Vinoche, it was as if something struck his head. His whole body chilled, as if doused with cold water. He walked the beach until sunset after sending the Vinoche family home. Even after returning to the mansion, the sound of waves breaking under his feet echoed in his mind.

“If I ever make you uncomfortable, please tell me.”

Robert caught a faint scent from Sasha as she came close, mixed with the hyssop Grandma mentioned and her sweet personal scent.

“No. You’ve done nothing wrong, Sasha.”

“Then why did you say that just now?”

Sasha asked cautiously.

“It was just a meaningless slip. Don’t worry about it.”

If that was so, Sasha shrugged and naturally stepped two paces away. At the same time, the faint scent on her blouse collar faded.

Grandma thought the scent was from Bertland’s pipe tobacco, but Robert thought differently. He was sure he’d smelled it before, though he couldn’t recall exactly what it was.

Before Robert could figure out the bittersweet scent, the grandmothers turned around at the same time, urging the two young people to catch up and join the conversation.

“Mr. Robert, did you hear about the grocery store theft last spring?”

“I just came down this summer, so it’s news to me.”

“It was a peculiar thief. If you have valuables, keep them safe, like a gun under your nightstand.”

Grandma Elodie delivered her punchline.

“Well, if there are thieves, all the more reason to keep a pistol by your bed. So you can shoot them if they come into your bedroom.”

“My goodness. That sounded so real, Mr. Robert. I almost believed you keep a pistol in your bedroom.”

Robert smiled silently. Retired officers were allowed to own firearms, and in fact, a semi-automatic pistol loaded with seven rounds sat in his bedroom drawer—a gift from Queen Anaïs when he was assigned to Borona.

“Actually, it’s ambiguous to call it a thief. There was money left where the liquor bottle used to be. So we call it a foolish thief.”

Grandma Elodie insisted a drunk mistook the shelf for the register and left money there. Robert listened politely, uninterested in petty theft. What could a missing bottle of liquor have to do with him? He smiled, but was starting to get bored.

“I think we’ve kept the young folks too long with trivial talk. Sasha, escort Mr. Robert to Hawthorn Mansion. Don’t forget to come home before dinner.”

Grandma Rollo said firmly, allowing no argument, then linked arms with Grandma Elodie and left.