Chapter 4.8

“Me?”

“Yes! Didn’t she introduce you to everyone?”

That day had been rather unexpected. It was an honor just to be invited to the Dowager Madame’s birthday party, which was often referred to as the prelude to the social season. The Dowager Madame had even personally introduced Merlin to various people. 

‘How could it not be a delight?’

As the faces she had encountered that day came to mind, Merlin felt a strange unease. 

Though it was now a thing of the past, Luette Trovill, her former potential fiancé, was still a remarkable man. He had been the most dazzling presence in the ballroom. Anyone who saw him would have thought the same. 

With his noble appearance, visibly strong physique, impeccable manners, and kindness towards ladies, he exuded perfection. 

And that unchanging “perfection” once again made Merlin’s heart ache. 

Had things gone differently, he would have been her man. 

“Miss, look! That’s truly the Dowager Madame’s mansion!”

When she raised her head, she saw the grand mansion perched atop the gentle plains. Her previously sullen expression was now tinged with tension. 

As the carriage stopped under the porch, the butler, who had been waiting to greet her, welcomed her with a polite bow.

“Welcome, Miss Hartrol. Welcome to Oberonje.”

Merlin responded with a soft smile, one that young ladies of her age were expected to wear.

“Is the Dowager Madame inside?”

“She is waiting in the greenhouse garden. Allow me to escort you.”

Following the butler into the mansion, Merlin was reminded of that dreamlike day. The splendid ballroom, the beautiful people, the slightly humid air, and the alluring scents of perfume. 

And the most striking man among them all.

“She is inside.”

Lost in her memories, Merlin found herself standing before the greenhouse garden before she realized it. Through the transparent windows, she could see lush greenery. Carefully, she stepped inside. 

The Heston Dowager Madame was there, just as she had written in her letter, surrounded by beautiful roses of various colors.

“Welcome, Miss Hartrol.”

Merlin curtsied deeply to the Dowager Madame, who seemed to be nestled amidst a bouquet of roses.

“Thank you for inviting me, Dowager Madame.”

“Please, have a seat.”

The Dowager Madame, appearing pleased with Merlin, gestured for her to sit. 

As Merlin took her seat, the maids promptly approached and prepared tea for her. 

In the meantime, Merlin looked around in awe. 

She had heard that the Dowager Madame’s greenhouse garden was the most beautiful in the kingdom, but she hadn’t imagined it would be this magnificent. Filled with rare and stunning plants, the place resembled a museum. The fresh floral scent that filled her lungs was almost intoxicating. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

At the Dowager Madame’s question, Merlin quickly fixed her gaze on her, as though realizing she had been rude. 

“My apologies, Dowager Madame. The place is so exquisite that I lost myself for a moment…”

“There’s no need to apologize. Even I, who come here every day, find myself admiring it for a long time.”

The Dowager Madame smiled graciously as she lifted her teacup. Following her lead, Merlin picked up her own teacup. 

“I was worried my invitation might have been too sudden.”

“Not at all. It feels like a dream to meet you like this. My mother was also delighted.”

The Dowager Madame smiled softly, her characteristic warmth evident.

“When I saw the Marchioness last time, she seemed to grow more beautiful by the day. It seems you inherited your beauty from your mother, Miss Hartrol.”

“You flatter me.”

Merlin was at a loss for words. She hadn’t expected someone like the Heston Dowager Madame to think so highly of her. 

Could it be that I was about to be invited to join the salon? 

It seemed plausible. 

The Dowager Madame’s salon members were composed of nobles who were unmatched in both honor and wealth. It was said that only those who were part of the salon were truly recognized in the capital’s social circles. 

“Actually, I called you here today to apologize.”

“To… me?”

Merlin looked puzzled. What could someone as gracious as the Dowager Madame possibly have to apologize to her for?

The Dowager Madame lifted her teacup. Her blue eyes remained fixed on Merlin as she took a sip and swallowed. 

“Regrettably, I failed to consider your feelings.”

Still unable to grasp what she was referring to, Merlin’s lips parted in surprise at her next words.

“At the last party, I introduced you to the Earl of Melfir as a dance partner.”

“Oh, that…”

“I later heard that the incident caused you some distress.”

This was astonishing. Only her parents had known that Merlin had been indifferent to everything for days after dancing with the man she had almost been engaged to. How could the Dowager Madame have found out?

“No, Dowager Madame. I was truly fine. Thanks to you, I was able to meet him again and even inquire about his well-being.”

Merlin hurriedly smiled as she spoke, but the Dowager Madame shook her head.

“Regardless of how close the two of you may have been, you were once considered for marriage. I had forgotten that fact.”

“Close… relationship?”

“Lu often speaks of you, so I thought the two of you had remained good friends.”

“…”

“Please, forgive my thoughtlessness.”

The apologetic expression on her face barely registered with Merlin. Her mind was preoccupied with one thought.

“The Earl of Melfir…?”

“Oh dear, I still occasionally call him that. He’s like a son to me, you see.”

The Dowager Madame soon began discussing an upcoming charity bazaar, but none of it reached Merlin’s ears. 

Her mind was filled with the revelation that Lu—no, Luette Trovill—often spoke about her. 

*

“It’s a piece painted by a famous artist from Montbette. It was back when the Young Master was studying abroad.”

“Yes….”

Solnia nodded with a face still filled with reluctance.

“Do you know how famous the artist who painted this portrait is now? You’d have to wait a year just to get one of his works. And it was our Young Master who discovered him.”

The rest of the items were much the same.

Most of the paintings Luette Trovill had purchased during his days of wandering various countries as a wealthy idler turned out to be works by royal court painters or masterpieces by artists whose portraits were now in high demand among noble families.

It wasn’t particularly surprising that he had such a discerning eye. With a face like his, it made sense that his aesthetic sense would also be exceptional. But still.

“…I didn’t know he was interested in paintings.”

As far as she knew, Luette Trovill had absolutely no connection to the arts. Even as a child, he was more inclined to swing a wooden sword around than to read books, and he was a boy who knew nothing about art. Hunting skills, sure, but painting… really…?

While Solnia was observing the paintings that Lady Gwen was carefully laying out with interest, she heard:

“There are also some works by the Young Master here. Not many, though.”

Then, some rather poor paintings appeared. If the previous ones could be called true works of art, these… well… how should one put it…

As Solnia picked up a frame and furrowed her brow, searching for the words to describe this perplexing piece, Lady Gwen smiled and added:

“These are the paintings the Young Master drew when he was a child.”

“Ah.”

Only then did Solnia nod deeply. The vibrant colors, the heavily pressed lines, and the utterly unrecognizable subjects were undoubtedly the work of a child.

But still, she couldn’t imagine it. The image of a sensitive boy gripping a pencil was buried in distant memories.

“Where did I put it… It must be here somewhere….”

Mumbling to herself, Lady Gwen searched for something until she clapped her hands together.

After rummaging through the numerous paintings, Lady Gwen finally pulled something out with effort and beamed with satisfaction as she presented it to Solnia.

“I really wanted to show this to you, Madam. This is my favorite among the Young Master’s works. It’s incomparable to his childhood drawings, isn’t it?”

As Lady Gwen proudly displayed the painting as if boasting about her child, Solnia didn’t know what to say.

“I used to wonder who this beautiful little lady was.”

“…….”

“It was you when you were little, Madam.”

Indeed, the woman in the painting, whose skill had grown remarkably compared to before, was undoubtedly herself.