Chapter 7. Red Rain

The weather turned fickle as they entered the height of summer proper. The morning’s cloudless sky poured down sudden showers, then around noon the weather cleared up as if it had been a lie and intense sunlight beat down.

From that day on, though Flora was a maid, she spent most of her time with the duke. It was a miscalculation to think being alone together in one space wouldn’t be particularly uncomfortable.

“Do you still need my protection now?”

Flora glanced out the window where bright sunlight was streaming in.

The longer they spent time embracing each other on the bed, the less free they were from others’ eyes.

So Flora was being careful in her own way, but Claude seemed to have no such thoughts as he called her to his office without hesitation even in broad daylight.

Claude silently looked at Flora in her modest solid-colored dress, then placed a white piece of paper in front of her.

“You write it. You know how to write letters, right?”

“……I’m writing instead of Your Grace?”

“As you can see, my hands are busy.”

He showed her the hand holding his cigar as he sat on the desk. When he lit the cigar he had been holding in his mouth with a match, the tip glowed red and its distinctive thick scent wafted through the office.

“Write what I dictate.”

He said as he exhaled a long stream of cigar smoke after taking a deep drag.

Flora bit her lip at the unfamiliar order to both guard and write letters. And with such a strange reason that he couldn’t write because he was smoking a cigar.

Though puzzled, since it wasn’t difficult, Flora dipped the quill pen she was handed deeply into the inkwell and took it out. Claude glanced at the obedient maid who tilted her head but walked slowly to the window.

“I regretfully send this reply regarding the banquet hall from Viscount Raders. Due to busy political affairs, I must unfortunately decline……”

As she wrote along, Flora soon realized this was a rejection letter for a banquet invitation. In the subsequent letters, only the recipient changed while the rest of the content remained exactly the same.

So he just didn’t want to write them.

Having concluded that he made her do it because he didn’t want to write these bothersome letters, she silently moved her hand.

And Claude, leaning by the window, watched his maid diligently working as he deeply inhaled and exhaled his cigar.

Then he found it slightly amusing imagining the shocked expressions of the nobles who would receive rejection letters from him for the first time ever.

While he was briefly lost in thought, a few strands of her neatly tied platinum hair flowed down over her round forehead. He paused momentarily in his dictation before continuing.

“Count Vandilt, regarding what you mentioned before……”

Claude crushed out his barely half-smoked cigar and quietly walked over to smoothly sit on the sofa.

Her small head had been tilting more and more when a strand of her hair fell into the inkwell. Not realizing her hair had fallen in, Flora was busily moving her pen.

No matter how he looked at her, she had an innocent side.

He smiled slightly as he recalled her single-minded tendency to become blind to everything else once she focused on something.

He gently pulled out her hair with his long fingers, but the ends were already stained with black ink.

When he slightly raised his half-lowered eyes, Flora was still writing down his words, completely unaware.

As he elegantly took out his handkerchief to wipe it, he stared blankly at the hair in his hand for a moment.

Unlike the clear, clean platinum blonde at the top, the ends were stained black. His eyes slowly narrowed as he stared at the two colors sharply divided.

Just then Flora suddenly lifted her head. At the same time, the strand of hair held in Claude’s hand snapped.

“Ah……”

Flora made a sound at the stinging sensation then blinked in confusion. Then she quickly held out the paper to him.

“……Your Grace, I finished writing.”

As quick as she was in her actions, Flora had soon caught up with his last sentence.

Without even glancing at the offered paper, Claude lowered his gaze to his palm. Only the black part of the broken hair remained in his hand.

Left with a strangely unsettled feeling, he brushed off the broken hair onto the floor.

“Good. You may leave now.”

The duke, whose face had become indifferent at some point, stood up from his seat.

* * *

Though the season changed, daily life rolled on ordinarily.

When Mary belatedly heard about what happened that day, she cried profusely saying she was sorry, but Flora wasn’t bothered at all. Perhaps because she had opened up to someone about her feelings, she rather felt unburdened.

Moreover, since many new faces had appeared at the duke’s residence recently, there were more things to pay attention to.

The maids lowered their heads as they saw Baren and Heriot stride in through the entrance. Flora also quietly bowed.

Three days ago, Knight Commander Baren had returned from the southern front. Except for the servants who had worked there before, everyone was meeting him for the first time.

“……”

Just as it seemed Baren would pass by, he suddenly stopped in front of Flora. Flora, who had been looking only at the floor, became puzzled by the large shadow cast over her.

Heriot asked, finding it strange that Baren had suddenly stopped.

“Baren, what’s wrong?”

“I just heard today about an impudent maid going in and out of the training grounds.”

Impudent maid.

Heriot placed his hand on Baren’s shoulder at his stiff tone mixed with strange displeasure.

“Ah, about that, His Grace……”

“I just can’t understand why a mere maid is guarding our lord.”

Baren said, sharply brushing off Heriot’s hand from his shoulder.

It was an action that would offend anyone, but Heriot, knowing his childhood friend’s personality, only sighed deeply inside.

Baren, the second son of a renowned sword house, was a man with noble consciousness ingrained in his bones. Setting aside his extremely proper nature in following etiquette, he often earned people’s misunderstanding by never allowing even a point of flexibility in hierarchy.

Now showing no intention of just leaving, Baren even crossed his arms and stood with his legs spread wide.

“You, raise your head so I can see your face.”

Each strangely flowing tone was mixed with mockery.

At the clearly confrontational attitude, Flora sighed. As she debated whether to raise her head or not, a cold voice stabbed down again.

“Can’t you hear me?”

Finally Flora raised her face and met Baren’s eyes.

After looking at Flora’s pretty features and small frame with eyes unmistakably those of a knight, he withdrew his gaze as if it was nothing.

“What a waste of time. Everyone kept talking about the maid, so I wondered what it was about…… Hatsen who lost to a woman was just an idiot.”

“……Is it such a big deal to lose to a woman?”

Flora, who was going to listen and let it slide, couldn’t hold back and opened her mouth. She could endure the familiar contempt, but she couldn’t tolerate words that disrespected Hatsen and the other knights.

At that, Baren’s short-cropped dark blue hair tilted slightly.

“You call that talking? You deserve to have your knight qualification revoked.”

“That statement is an insult to female knights.”

“Ha…… Do you think your skills are good enough to even mention female knights?”

Heriot, who became uncomfortable, looked at Baren with eyes that seemed to say ‘is he crazy?’, but it wasn’t appropriate to list Flora’s heroic deeds here.

“Now that I’m here, I forbid your entry to the training grounds.”

“The master permitted it.”

“Then run to your master and cry about it.”

The employees who had been bowing their heads collectively gasped. He was clearly showing antipathy toward Flora.

“I don’t trust your skills.”

“If you wish, shall I show you?”

Baren snickered at her bold response and glanced at Flora’s thin wrists, wondering if she could even hold a sword properly.

“Your confidence is impressive, but I don’t spar with people who don’t have a knight’s title.”

As if telling her not to even dream of it, Baren turned around and stepped onto the staircase. Behind him, Heriot waved his hand at Flora as if telling her to understand, then followed.

Only after the knight commander and his adjutant disappeared did Yulvi slowly approach and pat Flora’s shoulder, asking if she was okay.

“My goodness…… Who does he think he is to contradict what the master ordered? Just because he’s the knight commander? Why is he so arrogant?”

“I know, right? Making people feel embarrassed like that. Telling you to go cry to the master, what kind of strange imagination does he have?”

Flora smiled at her colleagues who comforted her, telling her not to worry about it. But her gaze kept drifting toward the stairs where the man had left.

One thing he said particularly bothered her.

* * *

Reaching the third-floor staircase, away from prying eyes, Heriot asked with a sigh.

“Baren, why are you suddenly acting like this?”

“I come back and find all the knights have become lazy and are in shambles. Yet all they talk about is that maid.”

Baren retorted gruffly as he looked around the peaceful mansion with displeasure.