10.
Anita greeted him with a smile that, for the time being, remained firmly in place.
“Hello. I am Anita Boellony.”
The director gestured toward a chair with a dismissive wave and repeated his question.
“Who doesn’t know the Boellony family in Shavalon? Why aren’t you answering? I asked if you’ve ever held a floor rag.”
As she took her seat, the director continued at a languid pace.
“Don’t take it the wrong way. I may look like this, but I’ve been in the business of selecting people for thirty years. It’s not like I haven’t seen girls in your position once or twice before.”
*Hoo.* A plume of stark white cigarette smoke obscured Anita’s vision.
“But you have to be useful. What’s the point if I find you a decent position? You’d be lucky if you lasted a week before running away. And what if you can’t stifle your pride and end up in a fight? My company is the one that gets hurt. My reputation drops.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Well, since you were introduced by Mr. Vlad, I’ll try my best, but still. So, have you ever held a…”
Before the director could finish, Anita stood and walked to the side of his desk.
“Excuse me.”
She untied the navy blue ribbon draped around her neck. It was wide, so by folding it over a few times, she fashioned it into the perfect size for cleaning.
After dampening the fabric with water from a flower vase, Anita wiped the director’s desk until it gleamed. Then, she sat back down as if nothing had happened.
“…Hmm.”
The director narrowed his eyes, scanned Anita from head to toe, and spoke.
“The bed will be uncomfortable, too. You’d be lucky if your back didn’t ache the next day—it’s that cheap…”
“I’ve slept on the bare ground for fifteen days straight. For those fifteen days, I filled my stomach with nothing but dried meat. I know how to dust a display cabinet, and I know how to press the pleats in laundry. Is that insufficient?”
There had been many hardships before the Boellony family was able to settle in Shavalon.
Among them, the process of her father inheriting his grandfather’s estate was particularly grueling. They had been framed for forging the grandfather’s will and evading a massive amount of taxes.
That winter, they had to endure by living off the charity of her father’s acquaintances. Though she was young, she tried not to lose heart, helping with small household chores so as not to be a burden.
Her father was the type to believe that “generally, it is better to experience everything,” so he did not stop her. He likely never imagined that there would come a day when such things would prove useful.
The director stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and gave a slight nod.
“…Come in tomorrow morning. I’ll give you your work then.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
As she stepped out of the office, Anita let out a small sigh of relief.
‘Hah. Thank goodness. With this, my immediate board and lodging will be covered.’
It seemed she would have to scrape together the remaining money to somehow purchase a maid’s uniform. Carrying her luggage, Anita returned to the mansion.
***
Early the next morning.
As soon as she arrived at the agency, the director’s secretary ushered Anita into his office.
“You’re here.”
*Thump.*
The director tossed a piece of paper onto the desk. Was this the location of the mansion where she would be employed?
Anita carefully unfolded the paper.
“It’s not a bad opportunity. There are many pretty women in the world. But it’s rare to find a woman as elegantly pretty as you.”
A cabaret was an entertainment establishment where one enjoyed drinks while watching dancers perform. Since he wasn’t recommending a position in a kitchen, his intent was clear: he meant for her to become a dancer. And certainly not in a favorable sense.
“Look here, miss. Do you really think you can just work as a maid with that face?”
Anita breathed steadily.
‘In what way should I refuse?’
Right now, she was in a state where she desperately needed his help. She knew that storming out simply because she was offended would be a foolish act.
Her father had said: *If you are desperate, throw away your pride. It isn’t too late to reclaim it once you have achieved your goal.*
‘It’s important not to offend him. I need to get a position that has nothing to do with my appearance…’
Just then, *creeeak.*
The tightly closed door of the office opened. The director, who had been puffing on a cigarette, shouted with a deeply crumpled face.
“Hey, what is it? I explicitly said not to come in without—”
“Greetings, Director Olaf.”
It was a crisp, clear greeting.
The footsteps walking to Anita’s side were as natural as flowing water. The man, with his forehead neatly exposed, was a figure very familiar to her.
*How is he here?*
“Who… are you?”
Perhaps because the man was dressed so impeccably, the director stopped exhaling smoke and opened his mouth cautiously.
“Here. This is the business card of my master.”
He blankly accepted the card the man held out. As his eyes identified the name, they widened as if they were about to roll onto the floor.
“Th-this… this name on the card, the name is truly…”
“It is true.”
The man, who affirmed it sharply, offered a faint smile toward Anita.
“It has been a long time, Miss Anita. You have become a lovely lady since I last saw you.”
The man was Jill, the adjutant of Duke Edenbahir.
Anita received Jill’s greeting feeling somewhat dazed.
“It’s been a while, Jill.”
However, Jill seemed to have brought news even more surprising than his own appearance.
“I am glad to see you look healthy. Lancelot is waiting for you.”
“…Lancelot is waiting? Where?”
“Where else would it be but the Boellony mansion? He arrived a little late as he was wrapping up everything he was currently handling.”
A little late.
The implication was unmistakable: he had come after hearing the news of her father’s disappearance.
When Anita could not provide a proper answer, Jill comforted her kindly, as if he could see right through her thoughts.
“You don’t need to worry about your job search. It seemed Lancelot already has something in mind.”
Lancelot was someone who would have carved out time when he was at his busiest. Perhaps, just perhaps, today could be the last chance to meet him. As an employee, she would not be able to maintain a friendship with the heir to a ducal house.
Once that thought reached her, this place no longer felt regrettable.
“I understand. Let’s go back to the mansion first.”
“I shall escort you. Oh, Director? I will be taking that back.”
Jill snatched Lancelot’s business card from the dazed director.
“Although it was only for half a day, thank you for looking after our Miss Anita. My master will bestow a reward upon you soon. Please await contact.”
“Yes, yes. Of course. Hey! Guests are leaving! See them out properly! No, no, wait. I will escort them.”
The director, who had rushed out with a face full of anticipation, guided the two out of the agency. Just before they parted, he did not forget to beg for Anita’s forgiveness.
“Miss, please forget that earlier suggestion. It seems I must have mistaken you for someone else. I certainly had a decent position lined up just last night… Haha. I am truly sorry.”
Anita did not mock the director, who was busy spinning obvious lies. Instead, she smiled softly and comforted him.
“Anyone can make a mistake. Next time we meet, I will be able to hear about that decent employment position you mentioned, right?”
“Of course! Here, my business card. Please contact me whenever you need help. I mean truly, whenever.”
He must have been quite surprised to receive the business card of the young Duke of Edenbahir.
‘I’ve benefited a little from Lancelot.’
Next time, I’ll be able to find a secure job. Anita carefully kept the director’s card inside her wallet.
Jill, who helped Anita into the carriage, called out to her as he steered the steam-powered vehicle.
“Miss Anita.”
“Yes.”
“I know it is an overstep… but please, do not draw the line with Edenbahir too strictly.”
An overstep, indeed. It was a request that made her feel sorry and grateful at the same time.
Anita, having vaguely realized Jill’s intention, asked cautiously.
“Did Lancelot wait for me?”
To come and ask Edenbahir for help?
“No.”
Following the unexpectedly firm denial, Jill added.
“He was certain that you would not visit Edenbahir.”
Anita gazed straight ahead with a somewhat mysterious feeling. She had known Lancelot for ten years now. Except for the last two years, she had spent every winter at Edenbahir, so it wouldn’t be strange to claim they knew each other inside and out.
*A reunion after a long time.*
Her shoulders tensed with nervousness at the thought of his face. It wasn’t even a long distance—only four hours—but she hadn’t met him for two whole years.
To be exact, she had unilaterally avoided meeting him. For only one reason.
She wanted to tuck away her feelings for him.
‘I don’t regret it.’
Anita prided herself on knowing her place. The fact that she had obtained relationships like Lancelot and Claunia in her life could be seen as good fortune that exceeded her station. They were friends she could not have gained without having been a savior of the nation in a past life.
Therefore, she had to stop exactly at that line.
‘A good friend who I think of occasionally.’
A friend who evokes nostalgia for her childhood. A friend with whom she shares only good memories. A friend who feels comfortable rather than awkward whenever and wherever they meet.
Lancelot Edenbahir and Anita Boellony had to be that kind of relationship. That was Anita’s only greed—a wish that defied her station. To remain even just as Lancelot’s friend.
Her avoidance was a choice made for that very greed.
For those two years, she had poured all her attention into helping her father’s work. Whenever she missed Lancelot’s voice so much that it ached, she would take out the letters they exchanged once every season and read them slowly.
Perhaps thanks to that effort, her heart no longer fluttered or tensed as if it would burst just by thinking of him.
A strategy to distance her heart by distancing her body. It was, indeed, not a bad strategy.
“Jill. How did you know I was at the employment agency?”
“I was lucky. I arrived not long after you had gone out.”
So that meant they had been following her.
In that time, they reached their destination. After taking a slow, steadying breath, Anita crossed the garden and went up to the mansion.
Her footsteps stopped in front of the room that used to be her bedroom. The door, which should have been tightly shut, was slightly ajar. Anita slowly pushed it open.
A back was visible.
It was a back that looked broader and more solid than the one she remembered.
The blond man was sitting on a half-rotted wooden chair that had been rolling around in the kitchen, looking out the window. The luxurious blue handkerchief laid out on the chair made it clear that the man was indeed Lancelot Edenbahir.
Sitting loosely with his legs crossed, no emotion other than boredom could be gleaned from his posture.
The man, Lancelot, slowly turned his head, and their eyes met.
“Anita Boellony.”
The heavy and solid call was embedded in Anita’s ears. It was a voice that sounded even more vivid because he shouldn’t have been there.
“Come here.”