Even as Davis chattered on, certain of his own brilliant future, Carlyle only offered a faint, idle smile.

People with clear desires were worth keeping close. Davis Brandon was a miser, quick-witted, and sharp enough to know that bringing profit to his benefactor meant profit for himself.

The café attendant had just set a freshly brewed coffee in front of Carlyle when a commotion broke out to the left. Books came skidding and tumbling across the pavement in front of the outdoor section’s entrance.

Nobody sitting in the terrace section got up to collect them. In the end, Carlyle’s secretary, who had stepped out of the car, bent to pick them up just as a woman came rushing over.

“S-sorry! I couldn’t see where I was going and tripped……”

The worn dress she had on made it clear she was no young lady of noble birth. Even her hair, pinned up in what looked like her own hasty work, had come loose, making her look woefully out of place on this wealthy street.

“Is she a teacher from the Raphael Convent School? She looks like a blank canvas. Nothing but those red lips stands out.”

Davis watched the woman stacking her books back up with curious eyes.

“……”

A blank canvas.

Carlyle had already turned his attention away from the woman and was reaching for a cigarette when the word ‘blank canvas’ lodged itself clearly in his mind.

“Ruben.”

After a brief thought, Carlyle called his secretary over. Ruben excused himself from the woman and jogged over.

“Drive her to the school.”

“Understood.”

Carlyle gave the short order, tucking a lit cigarette between his fingers. Davis’s widened eyes went back and forth between Ruben’s retreating back and Carlyle.

“What could that woman possibly do for you? Image management?”

“No harm in it.”

The car door shut, and Carlyle’s gaze drifted toward the window. A faint smile crossed his face through the drift of cigarette smoke.

❖ ❖ ❖

The moment the black car pulled up in front of the school gate, the children came swarming. Students in uniform pressed together along the fence, watching the teacher step out.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Carter. Please do make sure to pass along my gratitude to Mr. Berthheimer.”

“I’d like to drive you all the way to the faculty building, but the security guard won’t let me through…… At least let me carry the books in.”

“It’s all right! I can manage from here.”

The woman flashed him a bright smile and quickly took the books back from Ruben’s hands.

She gave a small curtsy, turned, and walked off with a brisk step. Ruben opened his mouth as though to say something, but in the end said nothing.

“Miss Iris!”

The children clinging to the fence came rushing the moment their teacher stepped through the gate.

“Miss! Why did you come by car?”

“Whose car is it?”

“Is that man your boyfriend?”

Children barely reaching her waist chattered and swarmed around Iris. She needed to get moving, but her feet kept shuffling along without picking up any speed.

“Everyone! Is there a kind friend here who might help their teacher? There’s a whole pile of sweets waiting on my desk…”

She stopped in her tracks, put on an exaggerated voice, and tilted her head. “Me, me!” Little hands shot up one by one. Pleased with the success of her plan, Iris laughed softly and handed out the books one by one.

Even as they walked together along the tree-lined school grounds, the children didn’t stop talking.

“I know whose car that was!”

“Whose?”

“Carlyle Berthheimer!”

“Liar! That man has blond hair.”

“Dummy! Would someone like him carry books himself? That was his assistant!”

When one of the boys mentioned Carlyle’s name, Iris’s brow furrowed.

“Eden! You should say ‘Mr. Berthheimer!'”

“M-Mr. Berthheimer’s car, Miss……”

Seeing the boy deflate so quickly made her feel guilty too, and Iris gently ruffled his brown hair.

The children kept talking about Carlyle after that, all the things they’d read about him in the papers. Listening to them go on like this, she could only imagine what the adults at home were like. Iris had seen him in the papers herself. She had simply thought he was very handsome.

She hummed along to the children’s chatter and managed to get all the books carried to the faculty room without any trouble.

“Good heavens. What happened to you, Iris?”

Olivia, a fellow teacher passing by as Iris handed out sweets to the children, stared at her with wide eyes.

“I tripped carrying the donated books. Ha ha……”

“You’ve got lipstick on your teeth!”

“What? R-really?”

Olivia kept saying “oh my goodness” as she quickly pressed a mirror into Iris’s hand. Iris lifted her lip slightly, confirmed the red smear on her front teeth, and her face went as red as the lipstick itself.

“Honestly! I told you when I put that on you not to talk too much or smile too wide. You walked all the way here like that?”

“It’s my first time wearing lipstick……”

Remembering how she had chattered away at Ruben the entire ride and even smiled broadly at him made her want to sink into the floor.

‘No wonder Mr. Carter kept glancing at my mouth……’

The face in the mirror looked just as mortified as she felt. Iris let out a long sigh and scrubbed the lipstick off with her handkerchief.

Just then, Eden, who had been quietly dissolving a sweet in his mouth beside her, suddenly raised his voice.

“Miss! Did you see Mr. Berthheimer too?”

It was too startling a name to come out of nowhere like that. Olivia, who had been tidying Iris’s wheat-colored hair, gave a sharp jolt. The other teachers in the faculty room crowded over toward Iris and the children.

“What do you mean, Eden? Why is Mr. Berthheimer suddenly coming up?”

“Miss Iris came in his car.”

“The big black shiny one that looks like a whale.”

Another interesting piece of gossip had been thrown into the air, and the children with sweets in their mouths all started talking at once.

“Iris! Say something! Is it true?”

“Oh.”

Iris had been focused on folding her dirty handkerchief when her head snapped up. Olivia had grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

“Ah, yes…… Though I didn’t actually meet him. His secretary drove me. Mr. Berthheimer apparently saw me fall, but I didn’t get to thank him since he said he was busy……”

“He must have seen you fall!”

“That’s what I was told? He said he had somewhere to be, so I couldn’t even say hello……”

“Goodness, how lucky! To think the day would come when I’d envy someone for not having a bicycle! Maybe I should just throw mine away too.”

From the school gate until now, Carlyle’s name had not stopped ringing in Iris’s ears.

The most important guest at the school’s first anniversary celebration was the Crown Prince of Lafreia. It was strange, then, that his name was hardly mentioned. Perhaps it was because this school had been founded by Volterra, and most of the teachers, Iris included, were Volterran. Everyone spoke both languages, but she was the only one born in Lafreia.

She seemed to be the only one more curious about the Crown Prince, and she quietly tried to recall the face she had glimpsed from a distance when she was small.

❖ ❖ ❖

By the time the cars carrying the Crown Prince and other dignitaries filed into the school grounds, the sun hung directly overhead.

Staff swarmed forward the moment the guests stepped out. Among the cheerful exchange of pleasantries, no one paid any attention to the most junior teacher, barely visible at the edges.

‘That must be Mr. Berthheimer.’

Even from a distance, Carlyle was unmistakably the most striking person there. Iris briefly imagined walking up to thank him. But she couldn’t summon the nerve to push through that crowd and speak to him. When nobles were at the center of attention, it was better for one’s own sake not to scatter it.

‘Mr. Carter must have passed it along.’

She chose instead to quietly trail along at the very edge of the group, barely holding her place there.

Carlyle’s height blocked her view of the Crown Prince she had actually been curious about, and her interest faded quickly. On top of that, a letter from her younger brother in Volterra had made it impossible to concentrate on anything all day.

‘And then I went and tripped on top of everything.’

She looked down at her dress with a rueful eye. It had been the best thing she owned. The knees of the dark grey dress were torn and ragged. The thought of buying a new one made the letter in her pocket feel as though it were swelling.

Iris dropped her head and took out the letter, going over the figures written inside once more. The more she turned the numbers over in her mind, the more her light brown eyes sank with worry.