The sunlight danced on the rippling waves. Agate, who didn’t know the meaning of boredom, would easily be content just watching the lake until the second group arrived.

And when they did arrive, they would enjoy sandwiches and juice prepared by the skilled servants—with their deafening chatter as a bonus—then return to the mansion, perfectly concluding the picnic.

‘And I’ll get a thorough scolding from Adollo.’

Imagining Adollo’s face turning red and blue with anger, an intense wave of fatigue washed over him. Sitting quietly allowed random thoughts to invade his mind. Indeed, doing nothing and spacing out didn’t seem to suit him.

His rest lasted less than ten minutes before a restless Sion got up. Laziness was a luxury permitted only to those suited for it, and he hadn’t been granted that luxury.

He certainly wasn’t satisfied with just staring at the lake endlessly like Agate. While meaninglessly looking around to see if there was anything worth doing, his eyes fell on Agate’s discarded handbag.

Sion picked it up.

Inside the bag were only her usual notebook and pen.

‘The notebook has become like an extension of herself.’

Quickly growing interested in the extremely sparse belongings, Sion sat back down and opened the notebook. He had no qualms about invading the lady’s personal items. She seemed to have completely forgotten his existence anyway, absorbed in the lake.

He felt slightly hurt that after all the trouble he went through to bring her here, she didn’t even offer a formal word of thanks.

“She really knows how to make people worry about her.”

Even with the notebook open, his gaze wouldn’t leave Agate. Whether it was his responsibility as a butler or curiosity about her, with the vast scenic view before him, his eyes remained fixed only on the tiny woman.

‘Her hair color… is similar to mine.’

After staring for a while, Sion shifted his gaze to his own hair falling along his forehead. Due to frequent dyeing, he could barely remember his original golden hair color.

‘No, hers is much lighter than mine.’

If his golden hair resembled the deep sunset glow at dusk, her golden hair resembled the moon shining alone in the pitch-black night sky. He thought it matched her well—faint and precarious, as if she might disappear if he took his eyes off her.

Sion stretched out his arm and spread his hand wide. The distant Agate fit within his large palm. He tried closing his fist. Only disappointing emptiness lingered in his hand, while Agate remained motionless in her spot, watching the flowing water.

Suddenly, he felt an impulse to preserve this moment for her. As if by chance, he held a pen in his other hand. With his decent hand skills, he could sketch something on paper as a gift.

Finding a way to alleviate his boredom until the second group arrived with food, Sion adjusted his posture and focused.

Sketching was a habit he indulged in whenever he wanted to preserve certain moments. He usually drew landscapes, but since coming to Ponten and being cooped up in the villa, he rarely had the opportunity to display his skills.

He carefully observed the lady who would be his model.

After staring at Agate for a long time, as if the image had roughly formed in his mind, he brought the pen to the notebook. The pen moved without hesitation on the white background, trying to capture “today.” Soon this white space would become a memento to remember this unexpected outing in the future.

In the blink of an eye, the pen filled the background with the lake and the thickets beyond, then began to trace the outline of the woman sitting alone in the center.

“……”

The sketch, which started as a simple way to pass time, soon became closer to solemnity than lightness. His eyes, scanning the subject, were sharpened to satisfy his perfectionism.

The persistent pen strokes continued until the tip wore down, detailing even the patterns and wrinkles of her hair and clothes, which were just a small part of the drawing.

Thanks to the obsessive artist’s greed, the lakeside scene, rendered only in black and white on a single page, was as intricate and detailed as if reality had been transferred onto paper.

After a while, his busy hand gradually slowed, and satisfaction bloomed at the corner of the artist’s lips.

‘This might be a more interesting sight than that lake.’

Creases suddenly appeared around Sion’s eyes, though he had been confident that Agate, who easily showed interest in and liked trivial things, would prefer this high-quality drawing to the lake.

“……”

Somehow, the back view of the lady absorbed in the lake hadn’t been captured exactly as intended in the drawing. Contrary to his intention, an inexplicable melancholy could be glimpsed in the woman in the croquis.

Naturally, appreciation of artwork varied from viewer to viewer. So with his recently pessimistic perspective, it would be difficult to find vitality in the grayish croquis in many ways.

If a perpetually bright girl like Kanna saw it, she might have a different appreciation. He should show this modest work to others as well.

It was already well past noon and lunchtime had arrived. He would like to interrupt her lakeside contemplation under the pretext of a meal, but there was no sign of the second group coming.

‘These people said they were bringing apple juice—are they picking apples from the orchard first?’

Surely they hadn’t given him their only map and then gotten lost on unfamiliar paths.

“……”

No, his concerns might not be unfounded. Recalling the faces of the maids giddy with excitement about the picnic, the hypothesis that they had lost their way gained strength. How could there be no one reliable?

It seemed he would have to take action himself. With a face full of weariness, Sion put the notebook and pen back into the bag, dusted himself off, and stood up.

He needed to find people who needed him more than the lady who had been standing like a scarecrow without moving. The lady truly hadn’t looked for him or even turned around for over two hours.

He needed to quickly find the food suppliers and start this grand picnic to make her move. If he stayed any longer, birds might mistake her for a real scarecrow and perch on her shoulders.

Shaking his head, Sion buttoned his shirt back up to the neck, put on his jacket, and entered the forest.

And some time later.

Agate, who had remained fixed in place as if nailed down, slowly rose with a stagger.

Moving for the first time in a full two hours, she advanced one step at a time. Nothing stood in her way as she was left completely alone by the serene lakeside.

She slowly moved into those deep waters with an invisible bottom. Her small cream-colored shoes reflected on the transparent surface.

The lake regained its tranquility. As if there had never been any human presence. Only the concentric circles slowly spreading across the water’s surface remained as her sole trace.

* * *

Agate momentarily forgot everything. The sense of debt she should have been erasing, the daily life she had been forcing herself through, and the memory of that day branded in her mind.

The lake was so vast that she could believe it was the entire world, when the Ponten villa had been her whole existence. She was glad she had insisted on coming. Daniel must have been quite troubled. Given the opportunity, she planned to both thank and apologize to him upon their return.

For now, she wanted to set those thoughts aside and focus on the present. The vast lake inspired more imagination in her than anything at the villa. She wondered what lay at the end of the lake if one kept going in one direction, what scenery would unfold.

She seemed to recall often traveling with her family during holidays in the past, but somehow her memories were blurred, as if painted over. In fact, she might be subconsciously refusing to recall those memories.

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Agate finally realized that the Ponten villa was nothing more than a cage for her. If she continued going out like this, the day would inevitably come when she wouldn’t want to return to her cage.

‘If such a day comes, what should I do?’

She couldn’t continue living like this forever. But she couldn’t return to who she was before that incident either. It would probably be impossible. Agate Irone couldn’t be complete without that person.

Agate was afraid to acknowledge this deficiency. She was uncomfortable with the idea of her future self who would acknowledge the deficiency, overcome it, and live as if nothing had happened. That image would surely be fake, an act.

There was no way she could truly be happy with that deficiency unfilled.

‘Then what should I do from now on, Daniel?’