Chapter 3 – The Truth of This Marriage

“Master is cold-hearted.”

“Myrtle, if you’re going to cry like that, just give me the comb.”

Briony reached out her hand, but Myrtle didn’t seem willing to hand over the comb. Briony gave up and quietly sat back in front of the mirror. Myrtle continued to brush Briony’s hair diligently, all the while letting her tears fall.

“Madam, you are cold-hearted too.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“How can you be so calm, Madam, sob, sniff.”

Myrtle wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling.

“I’m sorry. I only said you were cold-hearted because I was upset. Madam, you are the best person in the world.”

“I’m the only one you serve, aren’t I?”

“Anyway, my world is limited to wherever you go, Madam.”

Myrtle made a rather clever remark.

‘My world…’

Briony’s world was just as limited as Myrtle’s. Before marriage, it was the Arlington Family; after marriage, Ebony. Ebony was just two hours away from the kingdom’s capital, Fanshaw, by carriage, so if she wished, she could visit the noble residences in Fanshaw and enjoy a glamorous social life. Or she could attend the regular tea parties at the court and pay respects to Her Majesty the Queen.

But Briony had no interest in mingling with nobles.

“Myrtle, if you could live anywhere you wanted, where would you want to live?”

“I like Ebony.”

Briony felt the same.

The Arlington Family was located in Shovary, a seaside city at least twelve hours away from Fanshaw at a full gallop. Being far from the capital was fine, but once outside, the surroundings were nothing but wasteland and rugged mountains, which was not fine.

Before marriage, she was isolated in the middle of that wasteland. Her father, Lord Gideon Arlington, obsessed with titles and status, strictly forbade her from associating with others lest his ‘only daughter fall into the hands of some rural bumpkin.’ The only place Briony had ever experienced outside was the boarding school she briefly attended for bridal lessons.

When asked why they didn’t move to Fanshaw, which she so longed for, Gideon dismissed it with ‘I can’t take my eyes off my mine.’ But Briony suspected, only to herself, that it was just an excuse, and in truth, it was due to his inferiority complex about status.

After marrying and moving to Ebony, she was glad to finally escape that desolate place.

“What do you like about Ebony?”

“There’s a forest, fields, a lake… And it’s close to Fanshaw.”

But perhaps thinking she might not be able to stay in Ebony much longer, Myrtle’s eyes welled up again.

This brown-haired girl was a maid who had followed Briony from the Arlington Family.

Originally, she was the youngest daughter of the local doctor, the cleverest among their children, but being the youngest, and a commoner’s youngest daughter at that, cleverness was of little use.

That doctor was the one who delivered Briony when she was born. A few years after Briony’s birth, Myrtle was born. Myrtle’s eldest sister worked as a maid in Briony’s house for a while, carrying Myrtle on her back while working, and when Briony cried, she comforted both children at once. So, even as employer and employee, the two girls grew up together.

“Then shall we buy an empty house in Ebony and live there?”

“Madam, are you serious? What’s so good about staying in this estate?”

Just moments ago she said she liked it, but now Myrtle exclaimed in horror. For Myrtle, her Madam staying in Ebony meant continuing to face the cold-hearted Earl Dalmore, who had brought her so much humiliation.

“…It’s because I don’t want to go back to Shovary.”

Having finished brushing, Myrtle skillfully pinned up her master’s hair. Their eyes met in the mirror. Myrtle placed her hand on Briony’s shoulder.

“Oh, my poor Demoiselle Briony.”

“Myrtle, stop crying now.”

Realizing she had called her master by her maiden title, Myrtle blushed.

“Why don’t you shed even a tear, Madam?”

Briony gently placed her hand over Myrtle’s. If she said she wasn’t that sad, and didn’t feel like crying, this young maid would never understand.

“Crying won’t change anything.”

* * *

Perhaps thanks to Myrtle’s diligent efforts in dressing her up, or perhaps it was all for nothing, Briony ran into Keith while walking in the garden.

“…Keith.”

“…Briony.”

It was an early morning in January. The snow from a few days ago had frozen, melted, and frozen again, making the garden unsuitable for a stroll. But Briony wanted to walk. Before leaving, she wanted to take in every corner of Ebony Heights.

The garden was desolate. That was due to the season, not the garden itself. When she first arrived at Ebony Heights, there were indeed many issues. Maintaining the house was one of the Countess’s expected duties, and Briony found it interesting. She hired a skilled gardener to plant more trees, trim the shrubs, pave the paths, and fill both sides with flowers. Soon, her efforts paid off and the garden at Ebony Heights became famous. Nobles from neighboring estates even came to visit.

“It’s so cold today…”

“Aren’t you going to Fanshaw today?”

They spoke at the same time, then fell silent. Keith answered.

“I took a week off.”

Keith worked as a clerk at the High Court. The High Court was the kingdom’s supreme judicial institution, made up of the most prominent nobles, with all judges being of noble birth, and even clerical assistants had to be nobles. He was a diligent man, saying living off the estate’s income didn’t suit him.

“I was just out for a walk.”

“If I’m disturbing you—”

As he started to step back, she stopped him with words.

“No. There was something I wanted to discuss.”

‘Did she mean to talk while walking?’

Keith offered his arm. Briony looked at it for a moment before placing her hand on it. They began to walk slowly.

“What did you want to discuss?”

“I want to give gifts to the staff.”

‘Before leaving Ebony Heights.’

Briony left that part unsaid.

She felt him stiffen slightly beneath his coat. After a moment, he forced a smile.

“…You’re truly generous, Briony.”

“But I’m not sure what to give. How about fruit baskets?”

“That would certainly be a wonderful gift.”

“Where can we get fruit in winter?”

“Dmitri will find some.”

Dmitri. Thinking of the young butler, Briony felt she should give him something better. Dmitri had helped her a lot since she first arrived three years ago. And perhaps he was closer to Keith than to herself, so it would be fitting to give him something valuable as a sign to take good care of Keith.

“And if possible, I’d like to give the staff a day off.”

“A day off?”

“Well, they’ll be tired after helping with the move…”

‘Move’ of course meant Briony packing her things and leaving Ebony Heights. All the furniture belonged to Ebony Heights, but her clothes, books, and bedding alone would fill at least three large carriages.

Keith nodded.

“Let’s do that.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

“…Will you return to the Arlington Family?”

“I’ll travel.”

After saying it, Briony felt flustered. Travel—why did she say that? She had no plans for a trip. A young woman traveling alone with just one maid was only possible in a big city.

Keith looked puzzled too.

“Travel? Where?”

“…To the southern coast.”

She improvised.

She had only been to the southern coast once, on her honeymoon. There were many exotic islands, and the couple spent all day sailing from one to another. Each island had slightly different scenery and customs, and though she didn’t show it, she was constantly amazed inside.

She hadn’t shown it because Keith had looked uncomfortable the whole time. She remembered her excitement fading as she thought, ‘He must feel awkward marrying the daughter of a lowly baron with neither charm nor refinement, despite his wealth.’

“It’s not a good place to go in January.”

“Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

At that point, the path ended, and Briony, having no more excuse to walk beside him, hurriedly turned and bumped into Keith. He quickly grabbed her arm. But she lost her balance and leaned toward him.

Their bodies overlapped halfway, her shoulder touched his chest, and her free hand, desperate not to fall, reached out and slipped inside his coat.

…By the time she regained her balance, the air between them had grown even more awkward.

Meanwhile, Keith was restless.

Early that morning, he had received a letter from Lord Gideon Arlington. Sent by express mail, the letter was filled with clumsy, rambling sentences, but in short, it demanded the return of the entire dowry.

[Briony is my only daughter, and I cannot express enough gratitude for the honor of serving you, the esteemed Lord Ebony, for three years.

…However, when I married Briony off, I sent her to Ebony for her happiness, knowing I might have to live apart from her for life, and sent a considerable portion of my fortune as her dowry.

I had hoped, as a father, that the marriage contract would last a lifetime, but since it has been broken after only three years, shameless as it may be, I ask that the full dowry be returned to poor Briony as alimony. I pray with all my heart that your future will be blessed by a lady far nobler and more beautiful than my lacking daughter, Lord Ebony.]

Thanks to Dmitri’s talent for investments, Briony’s dowry had even grown since she first arrived at Ebony. Even if he had to return all of it, including the increase, Keith didn’t mind.

But the letter’s only concern for Briony was the word ‘poor’, and the rest was all about money or flattery toward Keith, which displeased him.

Since the letter was about Briony, Keith felt he should show it to his wife. Spotting her walking in the garden through the study window, he hurried out.

But she brought up gifts and holidays for the staff, and he missed his chance. She was so generous—how could he interrupt with, ‘Your father wants the dowry back’? And perhaps sensing he didn’t want to send her back to the Arlington Family, she said she would travel instead.

To their honeymoon destination, of all places.

The honeymoon spot had been chosen by the capable Dmitri, who quickly gathered information among society ladies and picked the most highly recommended place. (Using Briony’s dowry) he reserved a private boat, and (using Briony’s dowry) booked two suites at the most exclusive accommodation, which only wealthy nobles could afford. But then his Aunt Lucinda rained on their parade.

‘Keith, didn’t you get terribly seasick and vomit on my muslin dress when you were six on a pleasure boat?’

‘I don’t recall that.’

‘Well, you were very young, and after my cousin ruined the Dalmore Family, your family couldn’t afford spring boat rides. There’s still a vomit stain on that dress.’

His Aunt Lucinda couldn’t distinguish when she could or couldn’t say things that might embarrass others, but she never made things up. Keith, half doubting, rented a boat (with Briony’s dowry). It was awkward to try at Ebony, so he had Dmitri row on a lake outside Fanshaw. Just seeing the ripples made him nauseous.

‘Should we change the destination?’

‘Demoiselle Arlington said she’s never been to the south.’

‘There are other nice places.’

Coincidentally, all the good honeymoon destinations were near lakes, rivers, or the sea, featuring romantic sunset boat rides.

‘Oh well. Just don’t vomit on your future wife’s dress.’

‘Get me some medicine for seasickness.’

‘If you’re prone to it, medicine won’t help much. And you’ll have to buy it with Madam’s dowry.’

Still, Dmitri earnestly got the medicine. Thanks to that, at least he avoided vomiting on Briony’s new white muslin dress, but Keith had to grip the boat rail until his knuckles turned white, fighting dizziness the whole trip.

He couldn’t admit, while traveling at his wife’s expense, that he was seasick. That petty pride of not wanting to show weakness to someone he liked played a part.

‘Because of me, Briony surely didn’t enjoy that trip.’

Otherwise, why would she want to go there again in this season?

Then, as if she suddenly remembered something, or perhaps simply didn’t want to walk with him anymore, Briony quickly turned away.

He instinctively grabbed her arm, her shoulder bumped his chest, and as she flailed to avoid falling in the mud, her hand opened his coat and fumbled inside. At that moment, all thoughts of the honeymoon, Gideon Arlington’s letter, and even the lovely stray hair from his wife’s perfectly pinned hair vanished from Keith’s mind.

“Sorry, my foot slipped.”

While she calmly apologized, Keith, still flustered, awkwardly pulled the letter from the inside pocket she’d half opened and handed it to her.

“Lord Gideon Arlington sent a letter…”

“My father?”

Briony slowly took the letter. Her cheeks looked flushed, perhaps because the winter sun was finally lighting up the garden. But as soon as she started reading, that bright glow faded, so Keith assumed he’d imagined it.

Even when he asked her for the first dance, on the day he proposed, and when he carried her over the threshold at Ebony Heights as tradition demanded, his wife had never blushed in front of him—not even once.