Chapter 7

“This is…”

She pressed her forehead with one hand and looked closely. Something caught her eye—a strange flower embroidery. The leaves were jagged like thorns, and the pistil and stamen were one. The color was odd, too. Not red thread, but a rare black flower. She’d seen it somewhere before.

Looking at it brought a sense of longing and déjà vu. She’d seen it before. In a blurry memory, her late father had shown her something as a child.

—Isn’t it pretty? This is a treasure I show only to you, my daughter.

—What is it?

—…Lia.

At that moment, there was a knock on the other side of the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Annie, Madam.”

“……”

She was sure she’d ordered no one to come in. Olivia bit her lower lip. Even if Annie was her trusted personal maid, ignoring Olivia’s orders and knocking was enough to be scolded. Perhaps Annie sensed this from the silence, for she paused as if catching her breath, then spoke softly.

“I brought your favorite tea since you skipped dinner.”

Her gentle voice made Olivia’s tension melt away. It was Olivia’s fault for snapping at Annie, who had persistently followed her as she ran away earlier today. After all, Annie was not truly at fault. She’d only followed Olivia here from her distant family home.

“…Come in.”

As soon as permission was given, the door quietly opened and Annie entered. Olivia set the handkerchief back on the desk.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

She shook her head as she answered.

“I heard what happened. I know you must be very upset.”

Annie set the teacup silently on the table before the fireplace, then came over and wrapped her arms around Olivia’s shoulders in a smooth, natural motion. Olivia held Annie’s hand on her shoulder without a word. It was the way Annie had comforted her since childhood—quietly coming close and hugging her tightly. Olivia felt a pleasant pressure and warmth.

“I’m all right now.”

It was true. After pouring out everything she’d been bottling up, Olivia felt unexpectedly calm.

After a short silence, Olivia spoke.

“Annie.”

“Yes. Please, speak, Madam.”

Annie released her embrace and sat beside Olivia. They quietly held hands.

“It might be a foolish question, but if you had to choose, would you say a woman who marries a man with a mistress and illegitimate children is more pitiable, or…?”

Most noblewomen’s lives were not much different. They received basic education, behaved quietly, and married the partner their parents chose. In the worst cases, they encountered illegitimate children even before marriage.

—Livvy, marriage is for rich nobles, but romance is for handsome knights.

It was something a friend who married two years earlier had said. Before her wedding, her husband, Baron Borja, already had a mistress of over ten years. There were two children from that relationship.

“Is it more pitiable to be a woman who has to hide after bearing two children over ten years?”

Olivia couldn’t recall her friend’s face as she said that. She didn’t seem to be crying, nor was she smiling. Was everyone just living with resignation, hiding an indelible stain in their hearts? Olivia herself had lived resignedly once. She felt Annie’s gaze, waiting for her next words. Annie, unusually silent, answered cautiously.

“I’m not sure… That’s a difficult question.”

Olivia gave a bitter smile at the expected answer. She knew it was a pointless question. She was about to change the subject when Annie spoke.

“In my opinion, both are pitiable, but… I think the first is more so.”

“Why?”

“The second is a choice, but the first isn’t.”

“A choice… If it’s voluntary, it can’t be helped. But do you think a commoner woman could refuse a nobleman?”

“At least, she could have run away before having two children.”

“Even so, both are equally pitiable.”

Olivia added self-deprecatingly.

“They have the commonality of being abandoned.”

“Madam.”

Annie’s voice grew firm, as if to say Olivia shouldn’t speak that way.

“It’s so unfair. Can’t you abandon them first, before you’re abandoned?”

It was a thought that came out impulsively.

“Pardon? What do you mean…?”

“It’s just something I wondered.”

At Olivia’s offhand reply, Annie shrugged slightly, then shifted her gaze to the handkerchief on the desk.

“But this is…”

Olivia had forgotten about the handkerchief for a moment. As she hesitated over how to answer, Annie’s unexpected words reached her ears.

“Where did you get this? It’s been so long.”

“What?”

“Don’t you remember? This is the first handkerchief you embroidered when you were twelve, Madam.”

Olivia didn’t understand.

“…Yes. That’s right. Do you know what this flower is?”

She pretended to remember and asked, and Annie tilted her head.

“I’m not sure… I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“Think carefully.”

After a short pause, Annie clapped her hands as if recalling something.

“Oh! Hisdelia!”

“Hisdelia?”

“That’s it. The herb the first Lord of Gaether was said to have discovered. They say it’s quite effective. Though I don’t know if it really exists.”

Herb?

A sudden thought flashed through Olivia’s mind. She grabbed Annie’s shoulder and asked,

“Tell me more, in detail.”

‘Don’t miss it.’

Something spurred her on. The fog around her seemed to clear. Without realizing, she gripped Annie’s shoulder harder.

“Madam, that hurts.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Olivia let go awkwardly, and Annie rubbed her shoulder for a moment before suddenly speaking.

“Don’t you remember when Lord Elliott almost got badly hurt trying to retrieve this handkerchief from a tree?”

“Elliott?”

Now that she thought about it, that had happened. It had even appeared in her dream that day. Olivia blinked, and Annie continued.

“That time, one of the pages who intervened got badly injured.”

“……”

Page? It was a familiar word.

Usually, the younger brothers of a noble family’s eldest son had three choices. They could receive a small fief and fortune and live as their brother’s retainer, devote themselves to religion as a priest, or become a knight.

Most chose the first or second, but some rarely chose the last, which was honorable but full of hardship. Once chosen, there was no turning back. A boy who chose to become a knight would serve as a page in an estate with no ties to his own family, moving to a new estate every year, progressing from page to apprentice knight to knight.

There had been such a page in Olivia’s family estate, though she hadn’t encountered him often.

“My Lady, you cried so much back then. You were so frightened.”

“Hmm…….”

“Come to think of it, what was that servant’s name…….”

As Olivia sat there with a blank expression, Annie pressed her lips tightly as if sifting through her memory, then clapped her hands and spoke.

“Vincent! That’s right. It was Vincent!”

* * *

The stables were spotless, perhaps because the stable master had done a thorough cleaning early that morning. Despite the showers the previous day, the stables were tidy. All the straw tangled with dust, dirt, and manure had been cleared away, and the horses, bathed with clean water and brushed, looked noticeably refreshed. Among them, the man carefully brushing the mane of a striking white horse was not the stable master. As Olivia took another step closer, he slowly turned his back.

“That’s a fine horse.”

“I hear that often.”

His immediate reply made Olivia smile. She hadn’t expected this man, usually so modest about himself, to be so proud of his horse. Reaching out, she stroked the horse’s cheek. Whether the horse was naturally docile or simply comforted by its owner’s presence, it didn’t shy away from her touch. Instead, it closed its eyes, seemingly enjoying it.

He looked at Olivia, then shifted his gaze back to the horse and spoke.

“The wound on its foreleg seems almost healed.”

“…It should be fully recovered by tomorrow.”

“Yes. I owe you much for all this time.”

“There’s no need to mention it.”

It was a conversation that flowed naturally. Normally, after what happened yesterday, Olivia would have felt awkward or tried to avoid him, but today was different. She spoke while feeling the soft fur under her palm.

“You may not know, but the charm of Fitzhend Hall is the day after it rains, Sir Vincent.”

Only then did she feel his dark gaze upon her, and she continued slowly.

“The Glass Garden maze is even greener the day after it rains.”

“…….”

“If it’s not a bother, would you like to take a walk with me?”

It was probably the first time Olivia smiled at him like this—neither forced nor artificial, just a genuine smile. He nodded instead of replying.

The garden was just as Olivia had described. Shrubs glistening with dew looked fresh and green, like newly sprouted leaves, full of vitality. The maze was intricately trimmed and taller than any grown man, making it hard to find someone if they decided to hide.

“I thought it was impressive, but this is beyond what I imagined.”

“I’ve gotten lost here myself more than once.”

“That’s unexpected.”

“It’s rather embarrassing for the lady of the house.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Vincent lowered his eyes briefly before speaking again.

“I meant, you seem to have no flaws.”

Olivia couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his words. Even after seeing her crumble yesterday, he still said such things. As if he’d completely forgotten, or as if anyone could be like that.

“Hardly. I’m not that kind of person.”

Together, they walked toward the heart of the maze.