011

Even now, years later, she wept so intensely that she lost consciousness. This woman had unhesitatingly ruined herself over one person all this time, so it was a natural inference that she must have been just as sad then, or perhaps even more so.

Sion’s ungentle gaze fixed on Agate, who had collapsed in exhaustion, oblivious to the world.

‘What a dull-witted woman…’

Indeed, this walking corpse hadn’t become that way by accident. Perhaps it was actually good that she had cried so unrestrainedly, losing herself completely.

She had been pretending not to know anything, deceiving even herself, burying those old knots deep in the abyss.

Her insides burning black, festering, bursting… There were limits even to self-torment. Instead of telling her to get a grip, he should have told her to let go. To have lost her mind and cried hysterically long ago.

If she had, things would have been different from her current state of suppression—Sion was certain of this, despite being a complete outsider. Emotions, whether sorrow or anger, would rot inside if not expelled.

“My goodness… Miss, how much you must have suffered…”

Kanna clasped her hands together and approached Agate as if looking at an abandoned puppy, arranging the hair on her forehead.

Agate Irone, the eldest daughter of the grand ducal Irone family, would continue to live—no, be “managed”—with more than necessary protection from those around her, now and in the future.

Sion stared at her, trapped within these fences, without even bothering to maintain a formal expression.

That life, which some might envy endlessly, might have become poison to this woman.

No matter how naturally gifted a person might be, everyone faces trials and crises. And how they overcome these storms varies in both method and time.

Perhaps that life, where she never needed to overcome or conquer tragedy, had created a lady who couldn’t escape her misfortune. She was only now going through a transition that she should have experienced long ago, and while everyone pitied her, Sion was cynical.

‘By the way…’

[You told me to get a grip, didn’t you?]

‘I’m in no position to worry about others anyway.’

Assessing the situation, he realized that the real crisis had fallen upon himself. The lady had kept all his words stored away. And judging from the sequence of events, her uncharacteristic behavior today was undoubtedly due to his single remark.

The shock therapy had worked perfectly.

‘D*mn, she could wake up any moment and demand my dismissal.’

Would it be wiser to flee before being beaten to death by the servants of this villa who cherished the lady?

How frustrated and bewildered must she have been to break her three-year seclusion, come into town, and communicate with him through writing? To think that he was the one who had moved the doll-like lady who showed no signs of emerging from her depression. If Adollo knew, he would fly into a rage rather than express gratitude—the scene was vivid in his mind.

‘This won’t do. I need to leave this place before she wakes up and writes down everything I did.’

The moment she made her revelation, Adollo would likely chase him to the ends of the earth to catch him. He had created a truly troublesome enemy.

It was fortunate that he had always kept his luggage minimal in his quarters, ready to leave at any time. In the end, he would be departing without receiving even a salary, let alone the vast wealth he had hoped for—a moment of bitter self-mockery about his circumstances.

“Miss…?”

“Miss, are you awake?”

The lady had risen.

As Agate struggled to her feet, Kanna and Adollo rushed to support her. Sion, who might soon no longer need to act as a butler, stood at a distance, calculating whether the window or door would offer better odds for escape.

“Daniel, bring some water.”

‘…If I give the lady water, she might splash it in my face.’

There was no need to hand weapons to the enemy. Ignoring Adollo’s words, Sion carefully observed Agate. Their eyes met. Her eyes, swollen from crying—or perhaps deliberately so—wouldn’t leave him.

“Hey, Daniel! Why are you standing there blankly? You’ve been out of sorts all day!”

Sion, who had already half-relinquished his butler position internally, didn’t budge at Adollo’s rebuke. In truth, no one except the lady mattered to him.

While Kanna, unaware of the situation, stared oddly at Sion who remained rooted to the spot, Agate placed her hand on Adollo’s shoulder. Everyone’s attention shifted to her.

“…Miss?”

Belying all the static time that had passed, Agate had changed. She mimicked holding a pen with her right hand while spreading her left palm flat, pretending to write something.

“Would you like… paper and a pen?”

“Oh, they’re on the desk! I’ll get them!”

Kanna stepped forward in place of Adollo, who seemed to be trembling from shock. She too was flushed as if witnessing a miracle like the parting of the sea, and promptly brought paper and pen.

‘She’s going to tattle on me the moment she wakes up.’

While Sion contemplated whether he should snatch and tear up the paper, Agate slowly extended her hand, received the paper, and began writing one letter at a time in an uncomfortable position.

Come to think of it, he recalled her handwriting from the bookstore. Even amid the surprise of her writing at all, her neat script had imprinted itself in his mind. It was an exceptional hand, rare even among nobles educated in the upper class.

Partly wanting to see that admirable handwriting once more, and partly curious about how she would denounce him, he decided to watch silently for now. Unless there were strong men waiting at the door, the frail old man and young girl wouldn’t be enough to stop him.

[Is that man’s name Daniel?]

As the sentence was completed, Adollo’s complexion darkened rapidly.

Sion roughly guessed what Agate had written from Adollo’s expression. Judging by his poor color, it was definitely a denunciation.

With a resigned heart, he removed his stifling white gloves one by one and tossed them aside. Being a butler had never suited him anyway. He was sick of catering to others.

“…Yes, that’s correct.”

Adollo hesitantly opened his mouth with difficulty. As soon as he finished answering, three pairs of eyes gathered around the bed flew toward Sion. Just then, Sion was clutching his removed gloves, wondering what to do with them.

“It’s a coincidence, Miss. I did introduce him on the first day… His qualifications were excellent, and it seemed unfair to reject him because of his name…”

Sion couldn’t make heads or tails of Adollo’s words. He could only guess that Agate hadn’t exposed his actions.

[No. This person is different from Daniel. Very different.]

Seeing Adollo’s embarrassed reaction, Agate quickly wrote a response that made him smile with relief again. He had been terribly worried that the young lady might collapse again right after waking up.

[Daniel,]

Agate wrote that name and then, after a brief pause, completed her sentence.

[I’d like to speak with the butler alone.]

When Agate expressed her wishes again, Adollo and Kanna exchanged glances over her. They could hardly believe they were communicating with the young lady, even if through writing.

It had been their daily frustration, never knowing what she was thinking—or if she was thinking at all. Then overnight, a dream-like change had occurred.

Adollo and Kanna barely resisted the urge to pinch each other’s cheeks and shifted their gaze back to the paper. The neat handwriting on the paper perfectly conveyed the lady’s formerly polite and gentle manner of speech.

Each sentence faintly carried the voice of the young lady they had long forgotten. With her gentle, elegant voice and always cheerful tone, she had received many scoldings from the duchess. That’s how bright and friendly she had been, beloved by everyone in the ducal family.

Adollo barely suppressed the premature hope that perhaps tomorrow they might hear her voice directly.

Wait, he told himself, wait patiently for the young lady as they had done all along.

“…Understood, Miss.”

Adollo and Kanna stood up, solemnly composing themselves. Sensing the unusual atmosphere, Sion discreetly slipped his hands back into his white gloves.

“The young lady wishes to speak with you alone.”

They cut straight to the point, said only what they wanted to say, and abruptly left. Though irritation welled up in Sion, he decided to be satisfied with having avoided the worst-case scenario.

‘The name…’

Apparently, the casually chosen alias was the issue. Even during the interview, Adollo had seemed displeased with the name—it wasn’t just his imagination.

He had worked here for several months already, yet only today had his name registered in her mind. Given the lady’s behavior all this time, it wasn’t surprising at all.