Their startled gazes met. Giselle hurriedly withdrew her hand, and after a moment of silence, Lucas spoke.

“You’re right, it is sweet.”

“Y-yes, right? Would you like another one?”

She started to pick up another one with her hand but hesitated and simply pushed the entire plate toward him. Lucas looked at her and smirked before shaking his head.

“But it’s not to my taste.”

“Ah, then I’ll have to eat them all myself. You said it’s okay if I gain weight, so don’t complain if I eat all of these.”

Giselle added a joke to change the awkward atmosphere.

‘Why is it so awkward? It’s really nothing when you think about it.’

She had just tried to feed him a cream puff, and her finger had briefly touched his tongue.

She fanned herself to cool her increasingly warm cheeks and then suddenly spoke as if she had just remembered something.

“Oh, earlier today.”

“……?”

Lucas, who also seemed hot with his slightly reddened face and was pulling at his loosened cravat again, looked puzzled.

“I saw your mother’s paintings. The ones in storage.”

His gaze sank as he heard her words. Giselle noticed the change but continued as if she hadn’t noticed anything.

“The paintings were really wonderful. It’s such a shame to keep them in storage.”

“She just painted as a hobby. She didn’t really work as an artist.”

Lucas’s voice cracked as he responded to her words. He ran his hand through his hair with a somewhat irritable expression.

Stella Taylor.

That poor woman had simply lived as one man’s wife and died at a young age.

No one remembers his mother as an artist.

Not only did she die too young, but marriage itself must have been shackles for his mother.

……Perhaps she would have been happier if she hadn’t married.

In a life without a husband or child, she could have lived painting to her heart’s content.

“They’re clearly not the result of a mere hobby. Besides, they’re your mother’s works—treasures little Lucas secretly hid and protected.”

“……It seems Bushin has been telling you unnecessary stories.”

Lucas sighed as he heard her words. Her explanation made it clear how Giselle had discovered the paintings in storage.

“It was just something a child who didn’t know any better did impulsively.”

“Children aren’t ignorant just because they’re young. They’re actually more true to their emotions than adults.”

Giselle shook her head, contradicting his words.

Thinking about the child’s desire to preserve traces of his mother, the love and longing for his mother that must have underlain it, and the sadness of separation, her heart felt heavy.

Perhaps sensing her emotions, Lucas tightly closed his mouth instead of retorting to her words.

It was Giselle who broke the silence again.

“Can I bring those paintings out? No, don’t say no. As you said, I’m the mistress of this mansion. You can’t overturn or refuse my decisions.”

Giselle raised her chin with an exaggerated expression, as if to say she would be a tyrant. It was her own way of not making the atmosphere too serious.

Lucas laughed hollowly at her using his own words against him. Then, as if resigned, he shrugged his shoulders and played along.

“As you wish, Your Tyrannical Highness.”

“Y-Your Highness! Someone might hear and we’ll be dragged away for insulting the royal family!”

Giselle was horrified and tried to stop him as Lucas placed his right hand on his chest and even made a bow as if to a king.

He burst into laughter again at her fearful glances around, despite being in a private space where no one could see them. But his laughter didn’t last long.

Lucas rubbed his face, hiding his complex expression.

‘……Since that day, I’ve never once displayed them in a public place.’

Since he had sneaked away a few paintings as a child and hidden them under his bed, his mother’s paintings had always been asleep in darkness. Nothing changed even after his father died and Lucas succeeded as the head of the family.

After becoming the head of the family, he sent his mother’s paintings to storage. As his childhood memories had become blurred, his attachment to his mother’s paintings had also faded.

Or rather, he felt uncomfortable looking at the paintings his mother had left behind.

They were like evidence of a vulnerable time he never wanted to face again. And he couldn’t afford to be buried in memories of a time that was utterly useless.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t want to examine his mother’s belongings.

‘……It should be fine now.’

He was no longer the tearful child he once was. Lucas was confident he could control his emotions well.

“Did you really give permission?”

“I said I did. How many times do I have to tell you that matters within the mansion are your domain? You don’t need my permission.”

He forced a smile and maintained a composed expression. As always, he appeared relaxed and calm.

“Hmm…… Alright. Then from now on, I’ll do whatever I want without asking you. Don’t regret it later.”

Giselle narrowed her eyes as if trying to gauge his true feelings, then responded playfully.

The conversation continued after that. Of course, not about the paintings.

But they had many other things to talk about. The tea party Giselle was preparing, the Taylor family business, financial matters, and so on.

Everything seemed no different from usual. At least, that’s what Lucas thought to himself.

Not realizing that even as he conversed with her, he hadn’t completely shaken off thoughts about his mother.

* * *

“Should we hang it here?”

“No. A bit more to the side, yes, to the right. From there, slightly higher…… Yes, that position looks good.”

Giselle gave detailed instructions to the servant holding the painting and then nodded.

Through her round glasses, her green eyes took in the scenery of a lake surrounded by lush greenery.

It was the landscape in the painting that had just been hung on the wall.

A painting depicting a woman sitting under the shade of a tree and a young boy sleeping with his head on her lap.

‘This must be him as a child? He looks cute, unlike now. I thought he would have had a cold face even as a child, always nagging about this and that.’

She gazed at the boy with apple-red cheeks for a moment, smiled, and then returned to her desk.

The butler, who had been organizing ledgers and placing them on the desk, stepped back and smiled faintly.

“At last, the previous madam’s…… paintings see the light. Thank you so much, madam.”

“The credit goes more to those who have carefully preserved these paintings. Not a single one has discolored.”

It was evident how much effort had been put into storing the paintings.

Maintaining the proper temperature and humidity must have been a more demanding task than one might think.

“Bushin, yours would be the greatest contribution.”

“……Ah, no, not at all. What did I do?”

The white-haired butler stared at the painting as if reminiscing, then hurriedly waved his hands at her words.

Giselle looked at Bushin and smiled quietly before opening the ledger. The head maid prepared warm milk tea and placed it in front of her.

“Thank you.”

She smiled brightly at the head maid with her thanks and took a sip of the tea. With a bit of jam added to suit Giselle’s taste, sweetness quickly filled her mouth.

“……”

As she savored the sweetness filling her mouth, Giselle’s eyes unconsciously turned to the scrapbook placed on one side of the desk. Simultaneously, her face slightly reddened.

The head maid immediately detected the mistress’s change and smiled.

“Master Lucas really did stand in line.”

“……Hmm, indeed.”

Giselle’s green eyes wouldn’t leave the scrapbook. His image, which had appeared in the gossip column of this morning’s newspaper, was pasted in the scrapbook.

His figure standing among people lined up in front of the bakery.

She had cut it out and scrapbooked it herself after seeing the morning newspaper brought by the head maid.

There was a big difference between vague speculation and seeing it with her own eyes like this.

How should she put it?

She felt bubbly, as if wrapped in warm milk foam.

Just as the corners of her mouth were about to rise again, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

With Giselle’s permission, the person who opened the door and entered was the under-butler, Fitz Wendel. He stood at the doorway with a somewhat troubled expression, hesitating.

“What is it, Wendel?”

Bushin asked on Giselle’s behalf, seeing him hesitate and unable to speak. Fitz hesitated before addressing her in a respectful tone.

“Madam, a guest has arrived.”

“A guest? I shouldn’t have any appointments today…… Is that right, Bushin?”

“Yes, madam. There was no one who specifically requested a visit.”

Bushin responded politely to her question and furrowed his already wrinkled brow even more.

To visit without making an appointment in advance. That was behavior that violated the etiquette of high society.

Moreover, seeking out the mistress who had not yet formally begun her social activities could be considered an insult to the family.

For Bushin, who had devoted his life to the Taylor family, it was certainly something to be displeased about.