Chapter 2.3

“I wonder if he’ll eat it. If I tell him I made it, do you think he’ll at least take a bite?”

“Of course, he will!”

Since the weather was getting colder, she prepared a creamy potato soup, bread toasted golden in butter, and a vegetable frittata. The food, plated beautifully and steaming, was loaded onto a trolley.

She hadn’t felt it while cooking, but once the dishes were complete, they looked so appetizing that her hunger finally hit her. When her stomach growled unexpectedly, Emma smiled warmly and mentioned that breakfast was already prepared.

“Please eat with the young master.”

Emma waved off her attempts to decline and guided her to the first-floor dining room, where she was forced to sit down. The long table stretched out before her, and instead of being seated at the far end, where the head of the household would normally sit, she was placed right next to that spot.

This isn’t right, she thought, and just as she pushed her chair back to stand up—

“Hillienti!”

He appeared, walking briskly toward her, dressed impeccably. She had no idea when he had woken up and gotten ready.

Had I washed my face properly that morning? Had I gotten any stains on myself while cooking? 

These thoughts flitted through her mind, but she tried to remain composed and raised the corners of her lips to greet him.

His uniform was flawless—no stray threads, no wrinkles, not even a single hair out of place. It seemed he had been preparing since dawn to attend to his official duties.

“Idris, good morning. Did you sleep well?”

She struggled to meet his gaze, but the redness in his bloodshot eyes, so similar to the day before, held her attention.

“I told you not to do anything. And without even wearing gloves.”

At his words, spoken as he took her bare hand in his, her thoughts scattered. He hadn’t worn gloves either, as if he had rushed down in a hurry. His long, smooth fingers, reminiscent of a pianist’s, bore the calloused marks of someone who wielded a sword. The warmth of his touch sent her heart racing.

‘You don’t have to do anything. Just relax and enjoy your time here.’

His request from the day before echoed in her mind. She hadn’t deliberately ignored it, but his tone felt like scolding, leaving her feeling strange. His blue eyes, which studied her intently, narrowed slightly before he carefully let go of her hand.

“You’re not hurt.”

“I’m not that clumsy, you know?”

When she snapped back, irritated at being treated like a child, he laughed and nodded, then ruffled her hair. The excitement that had been pounding in her chest cooled instantly at the gesture.

“Oh, you’re just in time. Young master, please take your seat. If you’re going to disturb the young lady’s breakfast, you should head back upstairs.”

Emma’s timely arrival, pushing the trolley, signaled the start of breakfast. Though he didn’t seem pleased when he heard she had made the food, Idris couldn’t hide his surprise when he saw the dishes. He picked up a spoon and took a bite.

After tasting it, he couldn’t completely hide the furrow in his brow, and he swallowed slowly. To her, his movements felt overly dramatic, and her mouth went dry. 

Was it bad? 

But she remembered he had a habit of frowning even when eating delicious food.

“I think I’ll have to take back what I said.”

There was a trace of laughter in his voice.

“Sorry, Emma, but… this is so good. It’s like food from heaven, made by an angel.”

“Oh, stop it! Don’t tease me.”

Her face flushed red at his playful tone, and she scolded him softly. His mischievous laugh deepened the dimple on his left cheek.

He only saw her as a friend’s younger sister. She could never become a woman in his eyes.

Even knowing this, she was happy. Because the man she loved was looking at her and smiling.

* * *

There are those who delay their grief. People are like glass objects—they shatter the moment they crack.

‘The things you hold dear will protect you.’

Her father’s words from long ago came to mind. She thought they were exactly what Idris needed to hear right now.

“Could you find kalanchoe flowers?”

“Kalanchoe? Aren’t those flowers that bloom in winter and spring? Are they your favorite?”

She asked Barnes, who was following her closely. Barnes seemed to have little work to do, as she had been by Hillienti’s side the entire time. Hillienti didn’t particularly mind. With Julie remaining tight-lipped, the atmosphere was peaceful.

In this unfamiliar place, all she could do was wait until he returned.

She spent her time reading a book she had picked from the library, eating fig cake paired with black tea, and enjoying the breeze in the garden. There, she had coincidentally met the gardener, who gifted her a bouquet of pink chrysanthemums.

“I thought they might be available at the market around this time. Winter is approaching, after all.”

“I’ll send someone to check.”

“There’s no need for that… but thank you. Oh, and please don’t trouble yourself to procure them. They’re meant to be a gift.”

“Understood.”

Rolling the meaning of kalanchoe’s flower language in her mind, she stepped back from Barnes, who wore a strangely thoughtful expression.

After expressing her desire to rest, Hillienti returned to the guest room on the third floor with Julie. Sitting on the couch, Julie, holding the chrysanthemums, stared quietly at her.

“Julie. You have something to say to me, don’t you?”

“…What should I do with these flowers?”

“Hmm… Since they were a gift, should we take them with us? What do you think?”

Julie, who often freely expressed her opinions at Rinshers, was far more cautious in her behavior here. Even if it wasn’t intentional, Hillienti couldn’t bring herself to apologize to Julie for pointing out what she might be doing wrong. She wasn’t in a position to do so.

“Put them in an empty vase. I’m going to take a nap.”

“…Yes.”

Even with her eyes closed, Hillienti couldn’t help but sense Julie’s presence. Turning toward the back of the sofa, she let out a sigh.

Though she acted composed, her insides felt as tumultuous as his—alternating between boiling heat and freezing cold. The warning that this was wrong echoed in her ears like tinnitus, but she rationalized it, repeating to herself that there was no other choice.

The people in the mansion were kind to her because she was Kashian’s younger sister. Idris, loved by many yet cherished by few, had only one close friend—Kashian.

As long as Kashian was her brother, no one would call her a seductress or criticize her. She wouldn’t be accused of trying to seduce him during the vulnerable time of losing his fiancée to become the Duchess. 

He didn’t know that she loved him, so naturally, no one else would know either.

“As long as no one finds out…”

As her faint worry melted away, the tension in her tightly shut eyelids also eased. The warmth of the sunlight, which had enveloped her entire body, melted away her anxiety and unease.

She didn’t want to sleep. She feared that in her dreams, that woman might appear. Like a child scared of ghosts, she dreaded the possibility of nightmares and tried to keep her eyes open. But no one could resist the sun.

* * *

Julie’s complexion, pale and lifeless like a withered plant, reflected her inner turmoil. The rain had made her plan to persuade Hillienti to leave the mansion the next morning futile.

‘Is this an opportunity for her?’

Julie recalled Hillienti playing the piano to bless the marriage of the man she loved, wiping her tears as she practiced. Feeling pity for her, Julie had secretly harbored resentment toward Idris. Now, she pictured Hillienti, dressed in mourning clothes, changing into a dress.

The worry about not bringing extra clothes dissipated by morning. Barnes, the head maid, had whispered to Hillienti the previous night to ask for her size and prepared a dress. She must have visited a salon in the middle of the night.

Hillienti, dressed in a pale green dress, was so beautiful she seemed capable of turning autumn into spring.

‘It’s similar to the clothes she wore back in Rinshers. Though the trends in the eastern regions can be easily discovered, how does she know her taste?’

Unlike the capital’s fashion, which favored corsets and heavy bustles, the modest Rinshers preferred lighter attire. To avoid grass stains, skirts were raised above the ankles, and ribbons emphasized the waist instead of corsets. Petticoats puffed up the skirts, but there were few cumbersome decorations.

When Hillienti came to the capital, she had tried to find similar designs but couldn’t, so she wore only the clothes she had brought. But how?

‘Could it possibly be the young master? No, it couldn’t be. His fiancée passed away… He wouldn’t care about such details for her.’

Even if he treated her well, it was something she firmly rejected. Julie, feeling slightly confused, rubbed her temples and quickly calculated.

If the bridge washed away by the rain took at least five days to repair, they needed to return within two days.

The thought of Kashian’s fiery gaze at the funeral made Julie’s spine shiver.

Although there were witnesses who had seen Hillienti and Idris at the funeral, she had worn a veil, so if they were careful, rumors wouldn’t spread. The people here would keep their mouths shut.

Julie barely suppressed her anxiety when she was startled by the group blocking her path. She tensed up like a cat.

“Um, hello. You’re Julie, right?”

It was the maids of the Duke’s mansion, dressed in deep blue uniforms with white aprons.

“We’ll be seeing each other often, so let’s get along! We’d like to prepare food that suits the young lady’s taste. Could you tell us what desserts she likes?”

Julie felt as though she had been dropped into a field of wild animals. She realized the goodwill of the House of Skavisa toward Hillienti. Her worries about someone despising, misunderstanding, or slandering Hillienti were unfounded.