Chapter 7

“Are you the new maid?” 

When Estelle was carrying a bucket of water across the garden, the gardener approached her with scissors in hand. 

Wearing a wide-brimmed hat, he pulled a stiff piece of paper from his pocket and held it out. 

“The mailman said he had something urgent and tossed this to me before rushing off. Collecting things like this is your job, right, Miss? Please deliver it to Frederic.” 

“Thank you.” 

Estelle stared at the letters written on the envelope. 

To Estelle, who couldn’t read, it looked like a picture. 

Usually, letters had the recipient and sender written on them, so what was written here must be a name. The recipient was definitely Giselleberg. 

After starting work as a maid, she had memorized the word ‘Giselleberg’ by its shape. 

“Mr. Frederic, it looks like there’s a letter addressed to His Grace.” 

“Thank you, Miss Lumiere.” 

Frederic, taking the letter, put on his monocle and slightly frowned. It wasn’t a pleasant expression. 

“I’m sorry. Should I not have brought it?” 

“No, it’s fine. But if you were heading to the storage, it would be nice if you could burn this letter at the incinerator.” 

Seeing Estelle’s worried look, Frederic lowered his voice a bit. 

“This letter is from someone His Grace greatly dislikes. Not upsetting the master’s mood is a very important virtue for a servant.” 

“Understood. I’ll take it to the incinerator and burn it.” 

“Then I’ll leave it to you, Miss Lumiere.” 

Estelle nodded, tucking the letter into her apron. 

If she hadn’t gone through the butler, she might have seriously upset His Grace. 

At that moment, a question crossed her mind. 

The ducal residence was dark, with not a single ray of light. 

‘But how does His Grace read letters and books in such darkness?’ 

Tilting her head as she walked, Estelle reached the end of the garden. If she pushed through the bushes here, she’d come upon a wide forest. 

Estelle turned back again, but lost in thought, she had wandered a bit farther than usual and found herself lost. 

“I didn’t know this place existed……” 

After wandering around, she came across a small chapel. 

She hadn’t heard that His Grace prayed, so she guessed it must have been used by someone in the ducal household long ago. 

The small chapel was beautiful and splendid, like a miniature cathedral. 

The gargoyle statues that warded off demons, the benevolent Madonna painted on the wall, and the patterned tiles were all beautiful. 

Estelle’s heart raced at the sight of these rare works of art. 

“If I go to the capital, I’ll see even more pieces like this, won’t I?” 

As she carefully raised her hand to touch the wall, something sharp caught her finger. 

“A pen?” 

The object that pricked her finger was a pen nib. 

It seemed someone had stuck it between the cracked walls and forgotten about it. It was wedged in so tightly she couldn’t pull it out. 

Looking down at her slightly pricked hand, she noticed something else. 

‘Did someone doodle here? Was it children?’ 

There was a rather large doodle below. It looked like a monster, or maybe a horse. 

The only people who could deface the ducal buildings were members of the ducal household. The doodle didn’t seem very old. 

Because it was a humid spot, moss grew here and there, but this part had noticeably less moss than the rest. 

It looked as if someone had roughly scraped it off by hand. 

‘……Could it be His Grace?’ 

Knowing him now, she couldn’t imagine this innocent child and that person as the same. 

Estelle took in the artwork of the ducal household once more. 

She liked this spot. It seemed to be a quiet place where no one came. 

The reason Estelle dreamed of going to the capital was her hope for the future. 

She wanted to learn how to paint. Estelle loved painting. 

But art supplies were expensive, and her parents didn’t like Estelle accomplishing anything. Especially if it didn’t bring in money, they hated it. 

Still, Estelle loved beautiful things. 

As a child, when she was scolded harshly and sobbed, the only comfort she received was from the countless stars, the moon, and the sky seen through the small attic window. 

Whenever she was locked in her room, all Estelle could do was draw. 

Estelle and painting were very close. 

But after her parents found out and broke her brushes and tore her drawings, she had turned away from it, like forcibly separated lovers. 

Estelle gazed at the painting on the chapel wall. 

‘If only I could paint something like this……’ 

Estelle’s heart beat faster at the unexpected artwork she found in the ducal residence.

* * *

“Estelle, come here! I have a gift for you!” 

Katie knocked on the door of the Muhamot family’s house. 

Katie’s family, who lived next door separated by a single wall, had interacted with the Muhamot family for a long time. 

That meant Katie’s family knew the circumstances of the Muhamot household better than anyone, and that they knew the true face of the missionary Muhamot, who was regarded as a kind and respected religious figure. 

Katie had helped Estelle, her friend of the same age, since childhood. 

Whenever young Estelle was beaten and ran barefoot out of the house, or collapsed from hunger, it was always Katie and her mother who helped her. 

“A gift? What’s the occasion?” 

“Well, I was cleaning out the house recently, and I found something fun, so I brought it for you.” 

“Something fun?” 

“Just open it. You’ll really like it.” 

Katie had always been a kind and fun friend who gave surprise gifts since childhood, but today Estelle couldn’t guess what it was about. 

“Thank you, Katie.” 

“You’re thanking me without even opening it? Hurry up and open it, okay? Okay?”

At her friend’s urging, Estelle carefully opened the present. Inside were two items. 

One was a box containing three brushes, and the other was a sheet of paper rolled up into a circle. 

Estelle’s eyes widened. They were expensive brushes made from animal hair. 

“Katie! These brushes must be really expensive……” 

“That’s not the main part. Do you know why I brought this? Look at the paper next to it.” 

But Estelle felt too sorry to hold the brushes or unfold the paper. 

It felt like too much luck for her. And she didn’t know what to do because she was so thankful and sorry to her friend who had given her such a gift. 

Katie somehow always knew her heart so well. 

Estelle hugged Katie tightly. 

It was a sincerity that couldn’t be fully expressed in words. 

Katie was always this kind of friend. Someone who knew what Estelle needed and took care of her. 

“Geez. I said, look at the paper!” 

Estelle hesitated, her eyes stinging, but the tears that had gathered were wiped away by Katie’s sleeve. 

“Just look at it!” 

“……Okay, I got it.” 

When she unrolled the paper, she saw a clumsy drawing. It looked like a picture of stars in the sky. 

In the lower right corner, there was a small star drawn as well. 

“……What is this?” 

Estelle asked Katie, bewildered. Katie laughed and played it up. 

“That’s the best gift I could give you. When you were little, Mr. and Mrs. Muhamot tried to tear it up, but I snuck it away. It’s your very first artwork.” 

“Mine?” 

“Don’t you remember? Your signature is down there. There’s even a date.” 

The little star-shaped drawing. That was the signature Estelle had left when she was young. 

“That’s your name. Estelle. It means ‘star’.” 

“Right, it does.” 

“You really didn’t know? Back then, you were so happy because you finally had a name. I remember it all.” 

“I remember that part…….” 

Listening to Katie, Estelle faintly recalled the old days. 

Originally, Mr. and Mrs. Muhamot hadn’t given Estelle a name. The child they wanted was only her older sister, Lumiere. 

Estelle was a child who didn’t need a name. 

They’d call her ‘Hey’, ‘That kid’, ‘You’, and it seemed fitting. 

Then one day, she gave herself a name. The only word Estelle, who couldn’t read, could write was ‘Estelle’, a foreign word meaning ‘star’. 

It was thanks to a boy who had helped Estelle. 

A boy who had now faded into distant memories.

* * *

After hiding the present well at home and heading to work, Estelle realized one thing. 

‘I didn’t burn the letter.’ 

It was still tucked in her apron. 

Today, Estelle wasn’t assigned to the study. Luckily. 

Assigned only to lightly clean the window frames in the main hall corridor, Estelle felt her arms ache, but her heart was much more at ease. 

Aunt Susan said she had hardly ever met His Grace, but Estelle’s case was different. 

‘Should I ask Mr. Frederic to assign me somewhere else?’ 

It might be a presumptuous request, but she thought His Grace might want that too. He probably didn’t want to see her face. 

“Are you in a good mood today?” 

A low voice was heard at that moment. 

Estelle hadn’t heard any footsteps approaching. She stood still, clutching her rag as if nailed to the spot. 

“I thought it was going to rain because I smelled water, but it was coming from you.” 

Estelle tilted her head and sniffed herself. Did she smell like water? She couldn’t tell. 

Unsure if her nose was blocked or not, she wondered if she should borrow Lumiere’s perfume. Estelle pondered fiercely. 

Then she stepped back against the wall so as not to block the Duke’s path. 

The Duke didn’t speak any further to Estelle and just walked on. 

The cane tapped once, and his steps followed twice. 

Estelle remained in place, her head bowed. 

Suddenly, Estelle realized why the Duke could read books and letters even in the dark. 

The sound of his cane in the darkness, his unusually sharp senses. Estelle bit her lip, not wanting to scold herself for being foolish. 

‘……Why did I only realize it now?’ 

Duke Giselleberg had fought in the last war. The war ended in defeat. 

Estelle clearly remembered the day the young men of Barrenfield returned. 

It was an unforgettable day. 

The boys of the village returning with the red sunset at their backs. Carrying worn luggage, some were joyful, others looked devastated and lost. 

Whether it was joy from reunion or some other sorrow, it was a day overflowing with tears. 

Alfred, Estelle and Katie’s friend, also returned that day. He suffered badly from the aftereffects of war. For a while, he couldn’t hear sounds. 

And as for His Grace…… 

He cannot see.