Chapter 43 – The Duke of Guienne

“Mr. Robert is the Duke of Guienne? That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard all year.”

Grandma Elodie, sitting in her wheelchair, burst into laughter. Yet, no one else in the room laughed along.

“But, the, the, the face printed here…… really does look like Mr. Robert.”

Stammering, Mr. Vinoche pointed to the Laurent newspaper Eloise had brought that morning. Sasha stared fixedly at the expressionless man printed on the brown paper.

‘He’s been in Manolie the whole time, so when was this taken?’

That face, one by no means commonly seen, was certainly a face they knew well. The face of the man who had even eaten dinner at their house just a few days ago.

“Of course it does. Father, do you know why the Duke of Guienne looks exactly like Mr. Robert? Because that man is the Duke of Guienne!”

Enzo beat his chest, feeling as though he might go mad and leap into the air. This is insane. To think the Duke of Guienne, who had suddenly disappeared and caused a stir in Laurent, had been eating meals in our house.

“A, a real Duke……”

Mr. Vinoche sank into a chair, and his sun-darkened cheeks went pale. Sasha had never seen the house sink into such an unfamiliar silence. Grandma Rollo, seated on the sofa, looked like someone who had spent some time quietly pitying and worrying over a poor neighbor, only to discover that the neighbor was in fact a descendant of a former dynasty. And the shock was even greater in that the dynasty had long vanished, while the authority of the Duke of Guienne was very much a present thing.

“How could nobody recognize the Duke of Guienne? Really, not even a single person in this village!”

“Enzo. As you know, newspapers published in Laurent do not often make their way down to Manolie.”

“Then what is this?”

As if he understood even less, Enzo pointed to Grandma Elodie’s subscribed copy of 『Pouet』 lying on the parlor table. The title of the first article in that newspaper, dated yesterday, had the Duke of Guienne’s name printed across it in huge letters.

《Just when will the Duke of Guienne finally hold an engagement ceremony with Princess Deborah?》

“Good heavens, Enzo. ‘Pouet’ never prints the Duke’s photograph. It’s not as though the Duke would ever agree to an interview with a third-rate gossip paper like this.”

Grandma Elodie fumbled out an excuse.

“And the newspapers only write ‘the Duke of Guienne,’ they never write his given name. How would people like us know whether the Duke of Guienne’s real name is Robert or Rubert or Rabert?”

But soon her face turned white as she picked up the newspaper. Of all things, last week’s issue of 『Pouet』 had carried an article suspecting Duke Eugène, the Queen’s husband, of infidelity. After dinner, Elodie had read that article aloud. She had lamented the moral decay of Laurent, where ideas of chastity had grown lax, and Mr. Robert, who had been listening beside her, had politely agreed.

Good heavens. He had been horrifyingly courteous. Even while they were falsely accusing his own great-uncle of having an affair!

Breaking the silence, Madame Vinoche spoke first.

“We didn’t commit some rudeness toward him at our last meal, did we?”

“Well, I, I did give him some eggs, but surely he wouldn’t have been offended, thinking I was looking down on him?”

Mr. Vinoche stammered, confessing that he had given Mr. Robert a basket of eggs as he left. He swore it wasn’t out of malice. Since Robert rarely ordered food deliveries, he thought maybe it was because he lacked money and wanted to help.

“Lacked money? The Duke of Guienne? Oh, please. That man is a millionaire.”

“That’s just it, we didn’t know…”

Mr. Vinoche, utterly bewildered, covered his face with his hands and bowed his head. Enzo, drained, leaned back in his chair. It was shocking. He couldn’t fathom why the Duke had accepted the eggs.

The Duke of Guienne was a famous figure in Laurent’s high society. Robert Leblanc de Guienne du Brabant. The Queen’s beloved grand-nephew. A young Duke. A genius in hotel business. The richest man in Brissen. Some called him a vulgar capitalist who abandoned noble honor, but that didn’t matter. In the end, the winner recorded in history a hundred years from now would be the Duke of Guienne.

Nobles criticized the Duke for diving into business so quickly, and the bourgeoisie regarded him as a dangerous rival with far more wealth. Still, he was both admired and envied by both sides. Society figures constantly sent salon invitations, always hoping the Duke would attend their banquets. Those rare invitations that others desperately tried to obtain were scattered around the Duke’s apartment. They were so common there that the doormen could probably use them as kindling.

Moreover, the Duke was a strong candidate for the husband of Princess Deborah, the Queen’s only granddaughter. Influential figures in Laurent considered a visit from the Duke as proof of royal ties and boasted about it.

‘So the Duke of Guienne had dinner at this house last week.’

The Duke accepted the invitation gladly, arrived on time with gifts, and even took home a basket of eggs smelling of chicken manure.

‘……Why?’

At this point, Enzo couldn’t just blame his family. It wasn’t their fault for not imagining their neighbor was the Duke. Who would have guessed the finest gentleman in Brissen was collecting eggs in the countryside?

“At least one good thing came out of this. Sasha won’t have to take the train to Laurent alone.”

Grandma Rollo was the first to regain her composure. She was the most rational among the Vinoche family, and as soon as she recovered from the shock, she considered how this extraordinary event might affect the family.

“He was the one you were closest to in Manolie, wasn’t he, Sasha? If you ask him to accompany you to Laurent, he’ll agree. If you’re lucky, he might even take you all the way to the royal palace.”

Upon hearing this, the Vinoche family simultaneously looked at Sasha. Sasha was speechless. Mr. Robert, the caretaker of the Hawthorn Mansion, whom everyone helped due to his lack of knowledge about country life, was indeed Sasha’s friend. But would he still consider Sasha Vinoche a friend when he was the Duke of Guienne?

Above all, the family was unaware of one thing.

‘So who did I confess to and get rejected by?’

Sasha Vinoche had been rejected by that man just a few days ago.

“If Mr. Robert really is the Duke of Guienne, then since he is a relative of Her Majesty the Queen, you could receive help through him. Could it be that your painting was delivered to the royal palace through him? He has been helping you in strange ways for quite some time.”

Even Grandma Elodie’s attempt at comfort was no use. If Mr. Vinoche really asked him to accompany Sasha to Laurent, he would probably not be able to refuse. He would comply because he had no choice. And Sasha would have to ride the train to Laurent alone with that man.

‘This is a disaster.’

Her vision dimmed. At the thought of facing the man she had been desperately avoiding ever since that day, her cheeks grew uncontrollably hot. Outside the window, the orange tree was swaying. But even the late-afternoon wind shaking the tree mercilessly could not cool the heat in her burning cheeks.

* * *

The astonishing news that the caretaker of Hawthorn Mansion had in fact turned out to be the Duke of Guienne, a famous figure in Laurent society, swept through Manolie like a storm. The people of Manolie, driven by curiosity, loitered around Hawthorn Mansion, but conscious of one another, no one dared recklessly knock on the door.

The first to step forward bravely was Mr. Vinoche. He headed to Hawthorn Mansion early in the morning and returned to their house around noon with Enzo, bearing happy news that resolved in a single stroke every worry they had been agonizing over since Baron Auguste’s letter had arrived.

“Sasha, may I come into your room now?”

Grandma Elodie knocked carefully on Sasha’s door. A faint voice answered from inside, telling her to come in. Somehow, Robert’s help did not seem to Sasha to be entirely happy news.

“Mr. Robert said that not only will he accompany you all the way to Laurent, but he will also take responsibility for helping you there, so you need not worry too much.”

Sasha blinked several times and only then, as though understanding a step late, barely nodded. Grandma Elodie tilted her head, but asked nothing more, only stroked her granddaughter’s hair and then, after waiting until she had fallen asleep, quietly left the room.

To Elodie, Mr. Robert was still simply Mr. Robert of Hawthorn Mansion. Even after learning that Mr. Robert was the Duke of Guienne, the people of Manolie did not truly feel it in any real way. They knew the Duke of Guienne was someone remarkable, but most of them did not know in concrete terms exactly how remarkable.

* * *

Time flew like an arrow, and the day before Sasha was to leave Manolie and set off for Laurent with Mr. Robert arrived. Sasha lay in bed after finishing her final dinner with her family, but sleep would not come. Eyes wide open, she wandered helplessly through a mind where fear and excitement were mixed into a jumble. Both the situation and her heart were in utter disarray, like a bucket of water used to rinse paintbrushes carelessly.

Just then, someone knocked on Sasha’s bedroom door. The person who came in when it opened was Grandma Rollo. She cast a glance at the large travel bag placed in one corner of the room, then withdrew it and came over to Sasha’s bed.

“Even so, since a man who is a Duke no less says he will look after you, I feel at least a little relieved.”

At Grandma Rollo’s words, Sasha managed with difficulty to nod.

“How did Eloise say she got hold of that newspaper from Laurent?”

“She said a friend she made while working at the factory sent it along with a letter.”

“I see. Of all things……. What a strange coincidence.”

Over the past few days, Rollo had thought for a long time about this strange coincidence. About certain things that happen no matter how desperately one tries to prevent them, things people call fate. Then she quietly spoke.

“My child, do you like that man?”

In the darkness, Sasha’s shoulders flinched.

“The day I went to return his jacket, I confessed, but he rejected me. He said he doesn’t think of me that way. I was the only foolish one, misunderstanding everything on my own.”

In the darkness, Sasha quietly revealed the secret of that day, something she had told no one. Grandma Rollo calmly patted the shoulders of Sasha, who did not know what to do with herself from the sorrow of heartbreak and her anxiety for what lay ahead. For a long time without saying anything, until the trembling had almost entirely quieted.

“Before you leave, promise me just one thing. If a moment comes that is so painful you cannot bear it, promise that you will come back here.”

Grandma Rollo slowly stroked Sasha’s hair. The motion of sliding her fingers into the orange-colored hair and combing downward was slow, affectionate, and gentle.

“Running away is not always cowardly. Sometimes it is wise.”

Sasha raised her eyes and looked at Grandma Rollo. The wrinkles gathered at the corners of her grandmother’s eyes trembled faintly.

“My girl, will you promise me you will do that?”

Sasha nodded. Then Grandma Rollo took a purse from her bosom and placed it in her granddaughter’s hand.

“It was money I had meant to give you from the beginning. The situation changed, and now you are going to Laurent, but keep it with you all the same.”

It did not take long for Sasha to realize that it was the money from selling those precious earrings. The tears she had been holding back burst free, and Sasha clung to her grandmother’s arms and sobbed like a child. The final night in Manolie before leaving for Laurent was deepening.