“Violet. We aren’t alone.”
“Oh!”
At Ethan Christopher’s words, Violet quickly smoothed her expression and pressed a hand to her mouth. The transition—from a shy, flushing smile to sudden propriety—was startling.
“I’ve shown you something embarrassing. Ho ho.”
“……Not at all.”
“Oh dear. The bouquet is ruined.”
She tried to mend the crushed stems, but the damage was irreversible. After fidgeting for a moment, Violet slid the mess aside and gestured to the remaining pile.
“There are still flowers left. Could you make a new one with these?”
“Yes, could you hand them to me?”
Erasing the sight I’d just witnessed from my mind, I examined the flowers she offered. They were varied, fresh, and vibrant. I could feel the sincerity she’d poured into them.
I laid the stems on the grass and pondered the arrangement. Violet offered suggestions from beside me, while Ethan Christopher occasionally added input that was entirely useless. I began to construct the bouquet, cherry-picking the best ideas. At the very center, I placed a violet flower that resembled her.
“By the way, how old are you, Paula? You look young.”
“I am eighteen.”
“Oh!”
She clapped her hands together.
“That’s the same as me!”
She laughed happily, as if age were a matter of great significance. Was that really something to be so delighted about?
“I’ve always wanted to spend time with a girl my own age like this. I’m so happy.”
Given her station, she must have been surrounded by peers her entire life. Violet clearly looked like someone raised with adoration—pretty, polite, and charming. Then, I remembered the sight of her crushing that bouquet just moments ago.
I kept my eyes down and focused on the flowers.
“Ah, Violet. Why don’t we move to a more comfortable spot to finish this?”
“Hmm? Why?”
She had been assembling a small bouquet, tucking baby’s breath between pink and yellow flowers just as I had. She looked up at me with a puzzled tilt of her head. Beside her, Ethan Christopher was constructing a flamboyant, oversized arrangement.
“Is it uncomfortable for you, Paula?”
“No, I am fine. I’m just worried about you sitting on this dirty ground.”
“I’m fine. The flowers are so pretty, and I don’t think it’s dirty at all. If anything, it makes me feel good.”
Smiling as if she were truly enjoying herself, she worked her hands with diligence. She mixed pink, yellow, and white blossoms around a violet center, tucking in baby’s breath. If the stems were trimmed, it would be quite presentable.
“I wonder if Vincent Bellunita will like it.”
Her gaze lingered on the flowers in her arms, overflowing with affection. When she looked up and caught my eye, I nodded reflexively. Besides, he wouldn’t know the difference.
“Would you be able to deliver this for me, Paula? I want it placed by his bedside.”
“I will do so.”
I took the bouquet from her. It was large, and I worried about the shape, so I pulled the tie from my hair to secure the stems.
“Oh dear. I should have brought something to tie it with.”
“It is fine.”
I lashed the bouquet firmly and cradled it against my chest. Looking at the smaller bouquet she had made, I asked,
“Should I deliver this one as well?”
“Ah, this one.”
She held the small bundle out to me.
“It’s for you, Paula. It’s nothing special, but it’s a reward for helping me make such a pretty bouquet.”
For me? My eyes widened. She giggled, shaking the flowers as if impatient for me to take them. I opened my mouth, then closed it, staring at the gift. For some reason, I couldn’t reach for it. Violet pulled my hand toward her, pressed the flowers into my palm, and thanked me repeatedly.
Her gentle smile felt foreign; her gratitude felt awkward. This was a first. So, for no reason at all, I wiggled my fingers against the stems.
“……Thank you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. Thank you, Paula.”
“…….”
I looked down silently at the bouquet.
It was poorly shaped. She certainly wasn’t gifted with her hands. The buds were too large, and the colors were gaudy and discordant. It was flashy, bordering on tacky. And yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
The sincerity someone else had placed in my hands was so alien that I didn’t know how to hold it. I hesitated, then gripped it with just enough strength to ensure it wouldn’t fall apart.
“Here you go, maid. A gift for you, too.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Ethan Christopher abruptly thrust his own flamboyant, oversized bouquet into my arms. I offered a formal word of thanks, to which he complained that my reaction was too dry.
My arms were full. Ethan’s bouquet was particularly cumbersome. As I struggled to balance them, I stumbled and dropped his. I glanced at him furtively; fortunately, he was looking elsewhere. I quickly dragged it toward me with my foot and tucked it securely under my arm.
“I wonder when I’ll be able to see Vincent Bellunita. I’m getting tired of just waiting.”
Turning at the sound of her melancholy voice, I saw her squatting down again, staring at the sky. Her chin rested on her knees, and she sank into a dark, sudden despair.
“Could it be that Vincent Bellunita has come to dislike me?”
“That couldn’t possibly be true.”
“But still… he keeps avoiding me….”
“If Vincent Bellunita felt that way, he wouldn’t be avoiding you like this. He would have cut you off immediately.”
“That is true.”
I saw her slumped shoulders, but her sadness quickly curdled into anger. She began crushing and tearing the flower buds in the garden.
“If he tries to call off the engagement like this, just watch. I won’t let it slide.”
“…….”
I heard the chilling sound of teeth grinding. I was speechless for a moment before I pulled myself together.
“He would never do such a thing.”
Her fierce gaze locked onto me. I swallowed a dry lump in my throat.
“Really?”
“Yes. He told me he feels quite sorry for worrying you so much.”
Her violet eyes, now devoid of anger, grew round. I rolled my eyes internally. Of course, he had never said any such thing. But for the sake of the Master’s safety, I could tell a white lie without batting an eye. Besides, the weight of the flowers in my hands made the deception feel justified.
Moreover, this was the perfect opportunity to soothe her.
“Why don’t you try acting a bit spoiled?”
“Spoiled?”
“Yes. Sometimes, I think it is necessary to ignore the other person’s feelings, just a little.”
“Can I… really do that?”
“Of course. You are his fiancée. You will be a married couple someday, so acting spoiled is perfectly fine.”
Asking him to at least write a reply to her letters—surely she could be that bold. This whole mess seemed to have started because Vincent Bellunita ignored her correspondence; he could at least manage that. If he couldn’t write it himself, I planned to ghostwrite it. Believe it or not, I could write well enough. It was a nuisance, but it would be a repayment for the bouquet she had given me. She called it a reward, but I was the one grateful to be treated with such kindness.
Just as I was about to suggest she demand a reply, Violet sprang to her feet. Clenching her fists, she declared,
“Paula is right. I’ve made up my mind!”
“Yes?”
She turned sparkling eyes toward me. Seeing that face, I felt a sudden sense of foreboding. Could it be…
“I will NOT return until I see Vincent Bellunita!”
Ah, I’ve done it now.
Violet handed me a letter, saying she wrote one every time she visited. She added that if Vincent Bellunita refused to see her, she would wait here forever.
‘Paula, please cheer for me.’
With my arms already full, my head spun at the prospect of the fallout. I sent a look of distress to Ethan Christopher, but he only shook his head.
I was done for.
With a heavy heart and a tearful face, I returned to Vincent Bellunita’s room. He was sitting on the bed, waiting. As if he had been anticipating my arrival, he turned his head the moment he heard my footsteps.
“What happened? Did she say she would go back?”
“Ah, well… F-first of all, Lady Violet asked me to deliver this letter.”
I held out the thick envelope, filled with her usual sincerity. His eyes flickered before settling into a cold calm. He reached out, and I placed the letter in his palm. Then, I carefully set the vase I had brought down on the nightstand.
He did not tear the envelope open.
“Shall I read it to you?”
“No need. I know what it says.”
“It seems Lady Violet loves you very much, Master.”
“I told you before. It’s not that kind of feeling. We grew up like siblings.”
“Have you known each other for a long time?”
“Since we were born.”
Ah, they were childhood friends, as he had said. Lifelong companions. In that case, their familiarity made sense. Yet, a doubt bloomed within me. Vincent might see it that way, but to my eyes, the feelings Violet held for him were… far more crimson. They were the desires of a woman for a man.
“Lady Violet seems like such a beautiful and kind person. She is even gentle toward a subordinate like me. You must be very fortunate, Master.”
“What is this suddenly about?”
“It’s just that you seem like such a good match.”
“…”
He stopped speaking. His narrowed eyes took on a sharp glint. He seemed to be weighing the intention behind my words. I swallowed hard.
“S-so, Master.”
I was so nervous I stuttered. I squeezed my hands together. I hesitated, wondering how to bring it up, when Vincent tilted his head, sensing something amiss.
“Why do you stop mid-sentence?”
“Um… that is… Lady Violet…”
“Why, what about her?”
“Lady Violet is…”
I licked my dry lips, parting them to force out words I never wanted to say, but a voice from the door, which flew open, was faster.
“She says she won’t go back until she sees you.”
“What?”
Vincent turned toward Ethan in surprise. I turned, equally startled. Ethan gave a mischievous smile.
“It seems you’ve caused quite the trouble, maid.”
Vincent’s face hardened as he turned back toward me. I squeezed my eyes shut. A moment of silence followed. Then, the bouquet that held her sincerity was thrown to the floor, much faster than I had anticipated. *Crash!*
Ah, I heard it clearly. The sound of all my efforts until now shattering.