Why not slap him boldly like before? If she couldn’t speak, she could at least push over the table.

The lady’s response, so far from the most natural and common reactions, was difficult to accept.

While Sion stood dumbfounded, Agate, who had been motionless, slowly rose from her seat.

Then, as if butler’s instincts had become ingrained in him, Sion hurriedly approached to support her. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late.

She didn’t reject his touch. After taking a rare step, her destination turned out to be her desk facing the window, as always.

‘She’s completely playing with me. No, I’m the one being played.’

Having made an objective diagnosis, Sion swallowed a sigh.

She was like a leaf floating on a calm water surface, and he had tried to become a pebble creating concentric circles on that surface, but the reality was the opposite.

After seating Agate in her designated spot, Sion had to admit: he was the leaf swaying in the storm.

* * *

After that day, my world lost its color.

No matter how many times I slept and woke to greet a new day, the color never returned to my ashen world that had once lost its light.

Living in a colorless world was more painful than I had imagined. The sky and ground looked the same, food lost both color and taste, and for some reason, the voices of people made me keep my mouth shut.

Whether the world had imprisoned me or I had fallen away from the world, nothing was visible, audible, or tangible.

I was living in such a world where I wanted to die.

“The chef’s masterpiece is raspberry macarons. Sweet things tend to lift one’s spirits.”

How annoying… how tedious.

“Miss, let me brush your hair.”

Please just leave me alone.

Perhaps I was sinking endlessly deeper because my world kept moving busily for me while I remained still.

Because my world continued to turn even when I didn’t move. I hoped it would continue to sustain my life on my behalf forever. I was far too precarious to be the subject of this heavy world. I would eventually be crushed under its weight.

No one condemned the grief that had taken root deeply over three years. Everyone pitied the poor lady and didn’t try to pull her out of the abyss. They simply comforted her, saying it was fine to remain as she was.

Their comfort and care gave the lady, who had abandoned herself, absolution.

“Hey, will your fiancé come back if you pathetically mope around and burrow into the ground alone? Get a grip.”

And that absolution, which had seemed eternal, shattered completely today.

* * *

“Miss, the sunshine is lovely today. Would you like to take a walk?”

‘Burrow…’

Agate stared blankly at the man smiling so beautifully before her that one might believe he was an angel. Come to think of it, she had only just realized that the butler had changed.

This unfamiliar man had spoken words with a sting she had never heard before, and they had lodged deep somewhere inside her.

Her daily routine of simply staring out the window had hardened into a life, becoming her entirety, when those words became a blade that marred her preserved daily existence.

Though they seemed likely to wound her, she strangely found herself repeatedly mulling over those words that gently pained one side of her chest.

The lazy sunlight on her face, the unchanged landscaping of the villa, and the firmly closed white-painted main gate of the villa that never moved. And something else.

These words, not immediately comprehensible, had entered her sparse daily life uninvited, making her repeat them over and over.

The man seemed angry with her and mentioned her fiancé. In the end, he had thrown out the most incomprehensible phrase: “get a grip.”

What was his complaint, and why was he angry? Judging by his words, Agate seemed to have a major problem. However, no matter how slowly she traced her thoughts, she couldn’t identify what that problem was.

“The sun might be harsh, so I’ll prepare a parasol.”

Moreover, after that day, the man who had been like a mutant returned to being part of her world as if nothing had happened.

Unlike usual, Agate complied with his touch and headed toward the bench outside. Unlike the servants’ voices that she had to hear several times before they registered, his voice lodged clearly and distinctly in her ears.

It was truly a vivid sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

When Agate appeared in the garden wearing modest but proper clothes instead of her chemise, Gilbert, who had been pruning branches, widened his eyes.

Servants passing through the corridor also stopped in their tracks, bewildered by the lady’s figure reflected through the glass window. The scene of the lady, who rarely left her room, harmonizing with the garden was as rare as an annual event.

Agate began to walk slowly along the short path that crossed the center of the garden. Though she had agreed to the walk, she paid little attention to the beautifully cultivated flowers and trees.

Instead, she focused on the act of walking itself. Taking a breath in and out, the fresh scent of grass filled her head. It was a pleasant smell she had forgotten.

Behind her, silently and slowly walking, she felt his presence matching her pace. The sound of soil crumbling under their two pairs of feet with each step was pleasing to hear.

Focusing on these new stimuli that she could never experience inside the mansion, Agate reached a bench in the corner of the garden and took a seat. In her view was a fountain decorated with a statue of a beautiful woman pouring water.

Agate stared blankly at the fountain. It was positioned where she couldn’t see it from her room window.

The sound of water falling in a parabolic arc seemed refreshing, as if it could wash away whatever was weighing on her mind.

‘Something…’

How could she define that something? Agate turned her gaze from the fountain and fixed it on one spot. What formed in her hazy vision was the iron gate of the villa that never moved, which she always saw.

Seeing the tightly closed gate, she felt a heaviness on her chest again, like a stone. The suffocating helplessness she had felt every day for the past three years.

Staring at that unopening gate all day had become like inertia for her. A very natural habit, like rain falling from the sky wetting the ground, or the sun setting and the moon rising. She was accustomed to that suffocation, and therefore comfortable with it.

Though she knew this daily routine was sinking her further to the bottom, she couldn’t escape the inertia. The thought flashed through her mind that perhaps this gate, heavily weighing on a corner of her heart, could be the key to the absurd criticism the man had thrown at her.

Agate stared intently at the gate. Unfortunately, the sun was shining from the opposite direction, causing her eyes to squint involuntarily.

Agate created a shade with the back of her hand. Soon after, a large shadow fell over her.

“I was right to bring this in advance.”

Tilting her head diagonally, she saw a small parasol above her head, and beyond that, a man with eyes containing a fresher light than the ornamental trees, smiling at her.

“The sun is strong on that side, so it might be good to move. How about having today’s tea time outside?”

“……”

The man had a knack for addressing her appropriately despite her treating him like a brick wall. But those weren’t the words she wanted to hear from him.

Since receiving his unrestrained criticism, an indelible question mark had been engraved like an intaglio. It was a first since coming to Ponten. The question mark was strongly pinching her self-contained world, suggesting something was wrong with it.

“Miss, you’ve come out for a walk today! Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”

Adollo broke the silence that had been growing between Sion’s question and Agate’s non-response. He had discovered the lady’s radical move a step behind the spectators clustered at the window and had rushed out breathlessly.

“The young lady seems to be in better physical condition than usual today. I just suggested that she might enjoy her tea time in the garden.”

When Sion explained the situation, Adollo nodded. He greatly hoped the lady’s rare outing would be extended. Perhaps by coming out into the world one step at a time like this, she would someday return to being the bright and cheerful lady she once was, brighter than anyone else—a sprout of hope rose for the first time in a long while.