Chapter 4.7

“What did you bring?”  

Back in her bedroom, Solnia froze at the sight of what the servant had brought.  

The chairs she had left at the villa—the shabby chairs her father had made—were now sitting in her room.  

“The Young Master instructed us to place them in your bedroom.”  

“…He did?”  

“Yes.”  

Her freshly cleared mind was once again filled with his face.  

“Shall I leave them here, or—Madam!”  

Still clutching her bathrobe’s sash, Solnia left the room and headed for the hallway railing.  

She spotted Luette crossing the lobby hall with his aide, Philip.  

As she was about to call out to him, he turned toward her, as if sensing her gaze. She gestured for him to wait, then hurried down the stairs.  

The closer she got, the more his expression twisted into something ridiculous, as if he had seen something he wished he hadn’t.  

Only then did she realize she was still in her bathrobe. But it didn’t matter. Tightening the sash, she stood before him.  

“Did you bring those chairs? The ones from the villa?”  

“Well, they didn’t roll here on their own, so yes, I brought them.”  

He smiled as he answered.  

“Is that what was so urgent that you had to run out mid-bath—”  

“Why?”  

“…”  

“Why did you bring them?”  

The playful smile he always wore when pretending to be a good husband disappeared. Instead, his face took on the same expression he had worn on the villa’s deck the night before.  

“You kept looking at them. I thought you might want to take them.”  

“…”  

“Get some rest.”  

With that, he smiled warmly again and turned away.  

Solnia stood there until the two men disappeared into the carriage and out of sight. Her mind replayed the morning’s events once more.  

‘Just sleep.’  

The way he had patted her back felt so natural, as if he had spent the entire night doing so.  

Her memory drifted further back, to the moment he had approached her silently and touched her forehead. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel it—the way he studied her face, the sigh of relief he let out.  

It wasn’t something done to show off. He had no reason to try to impress her in the first place.  

But then, why?  

Solnia’s thoughts were in disarray, filled with countless questions.  

Why is Luette Trovill being so kind to me?  

Why is he treating me like this?  

*

“What did the Young Madam say? It seemed urgent.”  

“I don’t know.”  

Luette answered indifferently as he leaned against the window frame. Despite the chaos of last night, today’s weather was nothing but clear and sunny. A warm breeze lightly tousled his thick hair.  

As the scenery passed by with the carriage’s speed, Solnia’s face from earlier came to his mind.  

It was an expression he had never seen before. How should he describe it? She looked like someone who had been deeply shocked, or perhaps someone on the verge of tears.  

Luette lightly shook off the memory of that indescribable face.  

Whatever it was, she seemed fine now. That was enough.  

He had fulfilled his duty.  

‘Take good care of her.’ 

When the invitation from the Viscount and Viscountess of Timberland arrived, the Duchess of Trovill had called Luette aside and quietly instructed him.  

‘Everyone knows that she’s unwell. So, while she’s in the capital, make sure she’s well cared for and only shows her healthiest side. Understand?’

His unofficial mission was to ensure Solnia’s well-being and to present her as healthy and composed in front of the Viscount and Viscountess.  

As was typical of such fussy individuals, the Viscount and Viscountess of Timberland were notorious for generating all kinds of rumors. If Solnia had fainted or collapsed there, who knows what gossip would have spread? The same applied to any future events they would attend. That was what his mother was worried about.  

Luette felt the same way. And he had completed his mission perfectly. Recently, Solnia hadn’t collapsed or fallen ill even once. In fact, she had left a rather good impression on the Viscountess of Timberland.  

“What about the chairs you brought earlier?”  

At Philip’s question, Luette rested his chin on his hand and shifted his gaze.  

“Surely you didn’t make them yourself?”  

“And if I did?”  

“Then never take up woodworking. Not that you’d ever need to.”  

Luette chuckled softly.  

The chairs, made by the late Earl of Heston, were his way of apologizing for something that had happened in the past.  

It was a belated apology for shooting the rabbit she had cherished so much.  

Nothing more, nothing less.  

With that thought, he closed his eyes.  

*

A few peaceful days passed. Solnia neither caught a cold after returning from the villa nor suffered from insomnia. They were pleasant days.  

Of course, the warm morning she had experienced at the villa continued to linger in her mind, causing some confusion.  

“Do you think this will be enough?”  

Solnia tilted her head as she looked at the items displayed before her.  

“Of course! More than enough!”  

“Even just a couple of these would suffice, Young Madam.”  

The maids exclaimed in surprise. Before them were several porcelain pieces with elegant curves. They were certainly fitting for a charity bazaar. However…  

“Hmm…”  

Solnia pressed her lips together as if deep in thought.  

“I think I’ll look again. That might be better.”  

“What?”  

“But you’ve already spent the entire morning searching…”  

The maids, who had been dragged through the townhouse all morning, looked on the verge of tears.  

Realizing her mistake, Solnia quickly raised her head.  

“Oh, no. I was joking. These should be enough.”  

“Right?”  

“Thank you all for your help.”  

After reassuring the maids and sending them off, Solnia still felt unsatisfied.  

「My dear puppy, I can’t imagine greater joy than having you join me for this year’s bazaar.」  

The letter had arrived a few days ago. It was an invitation to the annual charity bazaar hosted by the Heston Dowager Madame.  

「I’ve been coughing a lot lately and couldn’t deliver this in person. Please understand this old woman’s heart, won’t you?」  

Recalling the pretentious postscript at the end of the letter, Solnia let out a dry laugh and shook her head.  

In any case, this was why she had been searching for items to donate to the bazaar. However, having left all her belongings at the Trovill Ducal Household after her marriage, she had little to offer.  

Even these porcelain pieces would require Luette Trovill’s approval to be used. Still, something felt off.  

The host of the charity bazaar was the Heston Dowager Madame. Solnia had no intention of appearing inferior before her.  

The items she had prepared might suffice if presented under the name of Solnia Heston. But as the Countess of Melfir? They felt inadequate.  

“Do you still feel like it’s not enough?”  

“Lady Gwen.”  

Lady Gwen had approached silently, as if she had read Solnia’s mind. Solnia sighed deeply and nodded.  

“These are all beautiful pieces, but they just don’t feel right.”  

“Shall we look for more together, then?”  

“Do you think there’s anything else worth presenting?”  

When Solnia asked with brightened eyes, Lady Gwen smiled and nodded.  

“There’s a room I didn’t show you during the last tour. It might help.”  

Lady Gwen led Solnia to a small room tucked away in a corner of the hallway. A room Solnia hadn’t even known existed.  

With a heavy sound, the door opened to reveal a space filled entirely with white.  

“What is this room?”  

It was impossible to discern its purpose.  

Large and small items were all covered in white cloth, resembling the room she had once lived in.  

“These are all works of art.”  

Lady Gwen deftly removed one of the white cloths, explaining that it had been placed there to protect the pieces, not because they were abandoned.  

Art, she said.  

But the room hardly seemed like it contained anything worthy of being called art. Solnia glanced around uneasily.  

“Look at this, Young Madam.”  

When she turned at Lady Gwen’s words, she saw her holding a massive frame.  

To be precise, it was a life-sized portrait of Luette Trovill.  

“Isn’t it beautiful?”  

How embarrassing. What kind of man would commission such a large portrait of himself? 

Solnia couldn’t hide her look of distaste.  

***

Merlin Hartrol sat in the carriage, her posture tense throughout the ride.

“Miss, relax. You look like someone heading off to be scolded.”

The maid sitting across from her spoke in a tone of concern, prompting Merlin to exhale as though she had just realized how to breathe.

“Why do you think she called for me?”

“Well, perhaps she simply wanted to have tea. Didn’t the letter say so?”

Indeed, the letter had mentioned that the greenhouse garden had been adorned with beautiful roses, and if Merlin was available, the writer wished to enjoy tea time together. 

What surprised her was that the sender of the letter was none other than the Heston Dowager Madame. 

For Merlin, who was entering her second social season, the name Heston Dowager Madame was akin to a towering, unreachable mountain. This was likely true for any noble young lady. 

As the youngest daughter of a prestigious Earl’s family, she had once reigned over the social circles as a queen and was now one of the wealthiest individuals. She was the epitome of a perfect aristocrat—someone who possessed everything and knew how to give generously in return. 

The Heston Dowager Madame was someone every noble in the kingdom wished to be close to. 

Why would such a person call for me…?

“Could it be that she thought highly of you at her last birthday party?”

The maid’s words made Merlin widen her eyes.