Chapter 48
Before leaving for Blanc, the sight of Paul practically extorting a blank check from me at Inès’s boutique must have made an impression, because Milla said something that was hard to tell apart from an insult or a compliment.
“Still, your skill at making dresses is undeniable. I hope you get to make plenty of pretty dresses that suit the Madam later on.”
Even though our destination was Blanc Castle, Milla seemed excited about the rare trip.
Feeling the breeze drift through the carriage window, Milla hummed a tune in a good mood before asking Freya.
“If the Madam’s business goes well, will the day come when we can take a train all the way to Blanc?”
“I suppose so.”
In the future she knew, there was still no train to Blanc.
“I’d really love to ride that train.”
“Me too!”
We stopped at a village along the way to spend the night, then set off again and arrived at Blanc Castle the following afternoon.
The Blanc region was famous for its pure white sandy beach, to the extent that the very name “Blanc” was derived from it. The reason the castle was built near such jagged, steep cliffs was precisely so one could look out over that expanse.
The Blanc Castle I saw after all this time was still as beautiful as a fairy-tale fortress.
“Welcome back.”
The servants and maids of Blanc Castle lined up to greet me.
“Madam, was your journey comfortable? His Excellency is scheduled to arrive in a week. We will move your luggage to your room.”
“Thank you, Prado.”
The butler of Blanc Castle had been working there since before I was born. To Freya, he was the person closest to her after Milla.
The bedroom I used to stay in hadn’t changed one bit since I left. The days where stepping even a single foot out of the castle was impossible. A father who never sought me out. Servants who treated me with nothing but stiff formality.
Freya had always been alone in this castle. Like a princess trapped in a tower.
When I was young, the castle felt like a prison, but now that I had returned, even that felt nostalgic.
“Madam, shall we go out to the sandy beach once?”
Perhaps remembering memories from her childhood, Milla whispered like a child plotting a mischievous prank.
“Yes, let’s do that.”
The sandy beach below the castle, which I had once thought would bring disaster if I ever stepped onto it without permission, was just an ordinary beach like any other.
A week passed in the blink of an eye as I toured the areas near the beach and the village around Blanc Castle—places I hadn’t been allowed to roam freely in my youth.
“Father.”
“You’ve come well, Freya.”
Seeing Father at Blanc Castle stirred new emotions. When I was young, Father was always busy. The days he came to see me could be counted on one hand.
Back then, I didn’t understand. That for a great noble, the child-rearing method of leaving one’s offspring in the hands of others was considered a virtue.
“The Lady is growing more beautiful by the day.”
“It’s been a long time, Count.”
After Father arrived, the guests followed. Since I had married, Father had made it a habit to invite acquaintances to Blanc Castle almost every year. Among them were those I had seen since childhood, and those I was seeing for the first time.
As I was welcoming the arriving guests, a man with remarkably eye-catching hair approached.
“We meet again like this, Madam Russell.”
There was an uninvited guest mixed in among Father’s guests. Freya hid her inner bewilderment and greeted the black-haired man.
“Erle Tristan, welcome.”
Why had Erle Tristan followed me all the way here? Publicly, it was known that Father and the Erle were on bad terms.
“I received permission to spend time at Blanc Castle this time through the recommendation of Viscount Ortoli and his wife.”
As if reading her thoughts, the Erle explained.
“…I see.”
I didn’t know this Viscount Ortoli, but one thing was certain: it was Father who had invited the Erle, not the Viscount.
Just as I was about to probe further into the reason for the Erle’s presence:
“My, isn’t that child the one who used to be the Lady’s play-maid?”
An unwelcome sound reached my ears. Freya moved past the Erle toward the source of the noise.
Milla was standing face-to-face with the ladies, wearing an awkward smile. They were wives from noble families who had been following Father since Freya was young.
“What a lucky girl. An illegitimate child of a ruined barony becoming a Lady’s personal maid.”
“That’s what I’m saying. If not for the Lady, she’d have had a hard time escaping the fate of being a mistress to some wealthy old man.”
“It’s not luck; it’s cunning. Because the Lady took a commoner girl as her betrothed, noble families refused to send their own play-maids. Even her nanny quit.”
Freya opened her mouth to the women, who didn’t even realize she had approached right behind them.
“It was I who was cunning. When no one would come to my side, I insisted on bringing Milla with me.”
“Ma, Madam.”
“Whatever her past may be, she is my personal maid now. If you insult her, I will consider it an insult to me.”
As Freya appeared, the ladies flipped their attitudes like turning a palm.
“We were being rude. We were just so happy to see her after so long that we made a mistake.”
Watching the wives scurry away to avoid the situation, Milla approached Freya’s side.
“Madam, the ladies seem to have changed.”
It was just as Milla said. In the past, they wouldn’t have scurried away like that just because I appeared while insulting Milla. They would have pointed fingers at both me and Milla together.
Finally, the actions she had been taking all this time were starting to bear fruit. It meant that her words were beginning to carry weight. If she continued to climb step by step like this, the day would come when her word alone would carry enough power to save a human life.
Freya, smiling quietly, took Milla and headed up to her room.
It was at dinner that everyone, having shaken off the fatigue of travel in their respective rooms, gathered once more. Whether by Father’s arrangement or not, the Erle sat in the seat next to hers.
“Thank you all for gathering like this again this year. I hope you enjoy a comfortable and pleasant summer at Blanc and return home safely.”
Following Father’s greeting, the meal began in earnest. Naturally, the focus of the table turned toward the Erle.
“Erle Tristan, have you ever spent a summer at Blanc Castle before?”
“No, this is my first time.”
A lie. Freya’s lips curled slightly. Even though he had come to submit a marriage proposal along with the former Erle Tristan and his wife.
“Is there any particular reason you visited Blanc Castle this year?”
As the noblewomen showered the Erle with questions, he turned his head and cast his gaze toward Freya.
“I have an interest in Blanc Castle.”
At the Erle’s answer, a few sharp-witted guests exchanged glances.
“May I ask if this interest is in something, or someone?”
Freya felt uncomfortable with the atmosphere, which was becoming strangely suggestive.
“If I were to say ‘someone,’ it seems someone might become uncomfortable.”
“Ah, I see.”
The guests looked back and forth between Freya and the Erle with intrigued eyes. As if it were a natural flow, the Erle spoke to Freya.
“It must have been a long time since the Lady visited Blanc Castle.”
The Erle’s violet eyes filled with the sight of Freya’s profile.
“…That’s right.”
“Actually, I came to Blanc Castle a very long time ago. It was on the Lady’s 8th birthday.”
“Her 8th birthday? Could it be, at that time…?”
Someone who remembered that day spoke up.
“That was the day we all played ‘Find the Lady.’”
Erle picked up the thread.
“I searched diligently for the Lady back then, too. Just like every child who attended that day.”
Although they were young, everyone had felt it vaguely: that there would be a great prize for the person who found the Lady. They hadn’t known that the prize was the Lady herself.
The longer the Lady didn’t appear, the more the children’s expectations grew. They believed that the joy of the moment they found her would be as great as the time spent searching. They were completely unaware that the Lady had already been led out of the castle by the hand of a ruffian-like commoner kid.
Even after so much time had passed, for some reason, the memory of that moment remained vivid to Erle.
“Father, that child is my prince. I have decided to marry Max.”
When the Lady, wearing a sky-blue dress, walked out of the chapel holding the commoner boy’s hand and declared that she would marry him, Erle learned the meaning of defeat for the first time. That day, Erle Tristan lost to Max Russell.
*How will it be this time?*
Erle naturally and lightly took hold of the back of Freya’s hand.
“If it had been me, not Max Russell, who held the Lady’s hand that day, would the person standing by your side on your wedding day have changed as well?”
Eyes as cold as midwinter held her fast. Freya looked at the beautiful man’s face impassively.
If it had been the Erle, not Max, who found her in the library that day… as he said, the person standing by her side on the day of the wedding might indeed have been the Erle. If that had happened, there would have been no reason to hold out the small hand that reached for her, no reason to take that hand and sneak out the library window, no reason to hide in a small chapel and hold her breath, wishing that no one would find them—none of it would have happened.
*If that were really the case… perhaps Max wouldn’t have had to die?*
Erle read the hesitation that surfaced in Freya’s eyes. As he raised the corners of his mouth and lowered his head to kiss the back of her hand:
“Your Excellency, a guest has arrived.”
The butler approached and reported quietly to the Duke.