Chapter 5 – Issen (Part 12)

That night, after dinner, Evelyn went to the study. She sat in front of the finest mahogany desk, staring blankly at the notebook. She hadn’t written a single word on the blank paper, but she didn’t get up. Even after the night deepened, she curled up on the large couch in the study instead of returning to the bedroom.

Bryant certainly kept the promised rule. He didn’t come to her while she was in the study. She knew he would wait, but she didn’t return to the bedroom. She needed time to sort out her complicated thoughts, to dispel her anxiety and tension.

And when the maid, who came late in the morning, woke the woman sleeping on the couch, it was already past 10 o’clock. By the time she returned to her room, washed, changed, and went down to the dining room, it was close to 11. It was a more suitable time for lunch than breakfast.

“Well, I’ve been thinking.”

Evelyn said after taking a sip of water. The late breakfast was set as usual on the eight-seater dining table. The man sitting across from her at the far end looked up. She was glad the distance was far.

“I think it’s better if I go to Chester alone.”

She spoke in a casual tone. Holding cutlery in both hands, he looked at her blankly. Evelyn put on a composed expression. Really, she was glad the distance was far.

“You’re going alone.”

“Yes.”

“With the Duke of Windberg, just the two of you.”

Bryant asked again. Evelyn didn’t avoid his gaze. She mustn’t appear hesitant. She had to seem as if she didn’t care about the Duke at all.

“I feel like I’m causing too much trouble for you.”

“…”

“There’s no need for you to accompany me. I’ll just take a brief look around the Artists’ Village.”

“…”

“Since you’ve come all the way to Issen, you must have other business, and surely you’re busy—”

“I’m not busy.”

He gently interrupted her.

“I have no other business.”

A faint smile on his face.

“My only business is to finish this trip and return safely with you.”

He said, looking directly at her. A generous smile on his face. But there was no intention of backing down in that face. So Evelyn had no choice but to sigh while looking at him, then reluctantly smile and nod.

He’s really going to go there with me. This man and the Duke must not meet if possible. 

Evelyn lamented inwardly as she looked down at her plate. The food was almost untouched. She had no appetite after a restless night. But to avoid looking strange, she needed to eat a bit more. As she idly picked at her salad with a fork,

“Don’t eat too much. We’ll be going out for lunch soon.”

His words stopped her hand. Lunch. She was having breakfast, yet it was already time for lunch. Puzzled, Evelyn looked up.

“I promised to show you a humble restaurant on Hugel Street.”

He reminded her, picking up his teacup. Blinking a couple of times, Evelyn finally let out an ‘Ah,’ making a foolish sound. But no reproach came for completely forgetting the promise. Bryant simply took a sip of tea and then,

“How many pages did you write yesterday?”

He naturally changed the subject.

“If you stayed up all night in the study, you must have had great inspiration. They say on such nights, you can write a short story in one night.”

Evelyn moistened her dry lips. She had nothing to say. Yesterday, she hadn’t written a single line, not even in her diary, let alone a short story.

“I’m really sorry to disappoint you, but I didn’t write much.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, but I’m curious. What did you do there all night?”

“Just… various thoughts.”

“Thoughts.”

Thoughts. 

Bryant murmured slowly, looking at her.

“I see.”

Evelyn noticed a slightly different expression on his face than usual.

As a gentleman of excellent manners, he always wore a faint smile when dealing with people. He slightly lifted the corners of his lips, almost showing a smile, and looked at others with a slightly relaxed gaze. It was an expression completely ingrained through long education and training. But now, that gentlemanly smile was absent.

So Evelyn could tell he was displeased about something. 

What could it be? Because I haven’t completed a short story after being holed up in the study all night? 

It was a cynical guess, but Evelyn knew it wasn’t the answer. So she almost asked,

Were you waiting for me?

“I waited.”

Bryant said, as if he had read her mind.

“I waited.”

“…”

“Quite late.”

Evelyn looked at him, slightly stiffened. She briefly considered the butler and servants waiting by the table. But their presence soon became irrelevant. Only the man sitting in front of her. Though he was far away, she was sure he was looking at her. And she almost said,

I waited too.

Last night in the study, Evelyn had thought about him. In between trying to calm her anxiety, she thought of him. She wanted to distance herself for fear of revealing her inner thoughts, yet at the same time, she wished he were by her side.

She also imagined his bedroom, which was on the same floor as the study. When the night deepened and the servants’ presence disappeared, she wanted to walk to his bedroom, knock on the door, and ask to be embraced warmly. Like the previous night. And the night before that.

To be more honest, in the study, she hoped he would knock on the door. To break the self-imposed rule. To say he couldn’t bear it and wanted to be with her, that he wouldn’t disturb her, and then kiss her sweetly. As he always did.

She wanted to be with him. With that person. Stripping away all calculations, restraint, and concerns, that was Evelyn’s most honest feeling.

“Unintentionally… I was rude.”

“…”

“I’ll let you know in advance next time. So you won’t wait.”

She replied politely, pretending not to notice, while her heart raced. Her eyes lowered to the plate, but all her senses were still focused on the man. Her forehead, where his gaze would rest, felt hot. The sound of her heartbeat was almost like a drum.

So she didn’t know what to do. The confidence that it was nothing, that she could control it, had already lost its power. Her heart was heavily leaning forward, beyond her will. Even knowing she couldn’t protect it. Even knowing she couldn’t rely on it.

Yet she kept wanting to see him. What should she do?

Even at this moment, sitting face to face, she wanted to see him.

*

Hugel Street is located in the southeast of Issen city, spanning six blocks between the city hall and the national museum. It’s known as the gourmet street with high-end restaurants lining the main road, but behind the large, prominent eateries, there were numerous quaint cafes and shops. ‘Cafe Klein,’ tucked away in a secluded spot, was one of them.

“Welcome. Is it just the two of you?”

Evelyn heard the cheerful employee talking to Bryant and quickly scanned the interior with her eyes. She was concerned about running into someone she knew, but there were no familiar faces. Despite it being a weekday afternoon, the hall was full. After apologizing for the wait, the employee quickly cleared a table just vacated by customers.

“It’s really a humble place.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all. It’s perfectly to my taste.”

Evelyn laughed at the man’s words. She felt sorry for keeping him waiting at the entrance and added a needless explanation.

“When I lived in Issen, I had a reading group here.”

So she had tried to avoid this place. She had another place in mind, but it happened to be closed, so she had no choice but to bring him to her second choice. In terms of food, this place was undoubtedly the top choice.

“A reading group. That sounds interesting.”

“We met on Thursday evenings. We’d recommend books to each other, read the same book simultaneously, and share our impressions.”

“Then the people you associated with back then must have read your work too. Reading habits last a lifetime, and your work is very famous.”

“…I think they probably did.”

“You must be curious about how they’d react if they knew Dennis Howle was you.”

“No, I don’t want to let them know.”

After answering firmly, Evelyn lowered her gaze.

“I believe a work should be evaluated on its own. Who the author is doesn’t matter.”

“Knowing the author could help better understand the work.”

“I think it often becomes a hindrance. It leads to more misunderstandings.”

“Don’t you want to explain your work directly to your readers?”

“No. The work should speak for itself.”

Evelyn raised her head. Her eyes met his again. A face listening attentively.

“Every reader reads a novel in their own way. So the person who knows the novel best is the reader themselves.”

“…”

“A published book isn’t the author’s anymore. Just as parents and children are separate individuals, once released to the world, a work is also separate from the author.”

“…”

“I want to respect the readers’ impressions. I don’t want my work to be misunderstood because of me.”

As she spoke, she added internally. 

I also don’t want to be misunderstood because of my work.

That was the extent of her lofty self-justification. Evelyn closed her mouth and waited for the man’s response. Bryant alternated his gaze between her eyes with a serious expression, as if thinking.

“So that was the reason for refusing public activities.”

It was exactly the reaction she intended.

“I understand. What you mean.”

And when Bryant nodded, the server, who had finished clearing the table, approached and guided them to their seats.

It was a corner seat far from the window. It was a bit dim without the lights on, but it had its own cozy charm. Evelyn was momentarily engulfed by a wave of nostalgia from the past. And just as she was about to sit down,

“Miss Dale?”

Someone from the next table called her name.

A chilly premonition brushed her shoulder. But it was already unavoidable, so Evelyn turned her head. The moment her eyes met those of a young man in a suit, she almost visibly changed her expression due to a sudden sense of dismay.