Starting with the Bellunita couple, photos of the three of them looking happy and close were tucked away in frames. Somewhere in the middle, I could even spot a young Vincent.
I clicked my tongue as I looked at the cute child beaming brightly.
“How did it end up like this? It’s a pity, truly a pity.”
They say people change in an instant. That young Vincent in the frame could never have imagined that he would one day lose his sight and spend his days confined to his room.
After briefly looking around the annex, I went out the back door for a leisurely stroll. The annex was hidden behind the largest, most magnificent mansion, yet it possessed a small garden of its own. If you exited the back door, you were met with a secluded patch of green; if you walked toward the front, a much wider garden unfolded.
It was my first time exploring this area. The well-manicured trees and flowers were a refreshing sight. Even the weeds crushed under my feet looked beautiful, as if they were tended with affection. I could feel the meticulous touch of the gardeners.
The weather today was truly wonderful. It was almost too good to waste.
[Since the weather is nice these days, why don’t you try having tea in the garden?]
After returning from my walk, I read the note with the golden lettering and grinned. This was it.
“How about we have tea in the garden today?”
At lunchtime, I suggested it to him. Vincent immediately frowned.
“What nonsense is that?”
I thought it was a lovely suggestion, but he didn’t seem to share the sentiment. Still, the weather was beautiful; the sun rarely peeked from behind the clouds, and the air was warm. It felt toxic to stay cooped up on a day like this.
“They say it’s good to get some fresh air from time to time.”
“No one should see me.”
“Wouldn’t just a moment be fine?”
Besides, I hadn’t seen any other servants in the garden. It seemed access had been intentionally blocked, both in the annex and the surrounding grounds. There was no danger of being seen.
“How am I supposed to get there?”
“I will take you!”
When I shouted vigorously, his face twisted in dissatisfaction. I didn’t care; I began helping him get ready. I had pre-selected his outdoor clothes, making the task simple. He refused, naturally, but I was determined to get him into the garden.
Every step was a struggle. I gritted my teeth, forcing strength into my legs.
“You’re going to collapse on the way.”
“I—I will get you there safely.”
My voice trembled. I gripped his slipping arms tighter and took another step. A sigh escaped from behind me.
“You aren’t doing a very good job of it. You’re dragging your feet.”
I was hunched over, carrying his full weight. His long legs, far taller than mine, naturally dragged against the floor. His body was more than enough to fill my back and then some—he was surprisingly heavy. I had been complacent, assuming he was thin. This was an unavoidable ordeal.
“Go back to the room, even now.”
“I don’t want to. *Huff.* E-even if it is, *huff*, uncomfortable, p-please, *huff*, bear with it just a little.”
I remained stubborn. I could have just supported him while he walked, but I chose to carry him to prevent him from digging his heels in and refusing. I held his hanging arms firmly and forced myself forward.
Enduring the weight pressing down on me, I walked arduously until we finally arrived. My body was drenched in sweat, but as I sat him in the garden chair, a sense of pride washed over me. I wiped my face and smiled.
A gentle breeze ruffled his golden hair.
“Where is this?”
“The garden behind the annex. It’s quiet, and there happened to be a table here. I thought it would be a nice place for tea. The servants don’t pass by this side.”
It was a table I often spotted from the window. It felt strange to see it left alone in the annex garden, but I never expected to use it this way.
He didn’t ask further. He simply felt the wind. His expression softened, and I was relieved he didn’t demand to return immediately.
I smiled contentedly, setting out the things I had prepared. I guided his hand to the cup’s handle, then poured warm black tea. It was the same blend he had enjoyed last time.
He must have truly loved Nobelle’s tea, as the gift we received was gone in an instant. I had asked the golden lettering where to buy more, and they had sent three new tins.
[Please let us know if you need more.]
I’ve realized recently that the person behind the golden lettering seems very kind. I must write a reply to thank them.
“It’s delicious.”
“It’s the one you had last time.”
“I know. The finish is different.”
He looked comfortable sipping his tea. I had been serving it often lately; it was perfect for soothing him whenever he became a handful.
“I’d like to read you a book here today.”
“It’ll be another boring book, won’t it?”
“No. It’s an adventure novel. I heard you like—well, Chris, I heard you like them.”
I almost mentioned Ethan, but hastily cut myself off. That name was a taboo for him now. I took the book I had tucked at my side and sat opposite him.
I opened the book, cleared my throat, and began to read.
I moved at a slow speed, giving him time to imagine the scene, focusing on clear pronunciation and my breathing. My voice had become smoother than before, and I felt quite satisfied. To my delight, Vincent offered no criticism. Just as I was inwardly rejoicing, he spoke.
“What do you look like?”
The unexpected question caught me off guard. I looked up, meeting those emerald eyes, and my mind went blank.
“W-why are you curious about that?”
“Because I am. I’ve become interested in knowing what your shameless face looks like.”
“I will read the next sentence.”
I ignored him and lowered my head to the book, trying to change the subject.
Suddenly, long fingertips brushed my bangs. It was a faint touch, barely there, but I was so startled I jumped up.
The chair clattered behind me. I lunged to catch the swaying table, but the book tumbled to the floor. Vincent’s hand remained in the air, his eyes wide with surprise.
The wind blew with a *whoosh*.
“Ah, well… Y-you suddenly tried to touch my face so… I’m sorry.”
I steadied the table and righted the chair. As I picked up the book, his voice remained calm.
“Why are you so startled? I said I wanted to know what you look like.”
“But why are you trying to touch my face?”
“I can’t see. I have to touch to know.”
I sat back down, glancing at him. He couldn’t see me. Unless someone told him, he would never know what I looked like. And based on his question, it seemed no one had told him a thing.
“What does it look like?”
“I look ordinary.”
“I mean, how?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say it was a face people pointed fingers at. I bit my lip, agonizing over how to divert him.
“I asked what it looks like.”
“I’ll tell you later. Let’s finish reading.”
“The more you hide it, the more curious I become.”
“…….”
He wiggled his fingers, threatening to reach out again. I stared nervously at his hand.
“I-I am a bit short.”
“I know that. Something else.”
“My… my hair reaches my chest.”
“Does it go past it?”
“No. And… I cut it a bit not too long ago.”
I hadn’t used a mirror, so I hadn’t noticed, but my hair had grown into a nuisance. A few days ago, I’d chopped it to my chest with scissors. To be honest, long hair was a burden. My unkempt hair was brittle, and it got in the way when I worked. Still, not cutting it short was my last shred of pride. If even that were gone, there wouldn’t be a single feminine feature left.
“Is your hair wavy? You know, there’s straight hair and there’s curly hair.”
“I am… a little like that, too.”
“Hmm—”
He let out a short hum, pondered, and reached out again. My body stiffened, fearing he would touch my face.
But this time, his hand searched the air and carefully touched my hair instead. He gripped the wavy ends and toyed with them.
“It’s true. The ends are curled.”
“…….”
Flicking the ends with his thumb, he smiled faintly. I gazed quietly at his hand, which teased my hair as if it were a toy.
“And?”
“And… what exactly are you curious about?”
“Everything. Tell me in detail.”
Give me pieces I can imagine. That was his demand.
I moved my lips, but the words wouldn’t come. I had never once described myself. I didn’t want to; it was a face unworthy of attention.
“Is your build thin?”
*Yes, so thin it’s hideous. Even now that I’ve put on a little weight, before coming here, I looked like a walking corpse.*
“It’s average.”
“Are your eyes big?”
“They are on the larger side. I often heard growing up that my eyes were the only thing people noticed.”
“What about your nose?”
“That is…”
As I answered his rapid-fire questions, everything I said was a lie. Aside from my hair length and eyes, nothing was true. And those lies gathered together to form one person. Ironically, the image they completed was Alicia.
My younger sister, who, unlike me, was beautiful.