Episode 67. Another Order
That day, Deborah was only able to finish her day’s work after quite a late hour.
—You’ve worked hard. Now go on and take care of your business.
Those were the words Cecilia said to Deborah, as if she had just remembered something, right when everyone was leaving the parlor together in good spirits.
She wasn’t particularly angry about it.
Even if she had been angry, she wasn’t in a position to question it anyway—but in any case, it wasn’t that she was truly angry.
It was as natural as breathing.
To obey as the upper class commands.
The moment you allow meaningless personal feelings into it, life becomes hell.
The unchangeable difference in social status, no matter how hard you tried.
Deborah had realized, from a very young age, that giving up and killing one’s heart made life less painful, less miserable.
If she wanted to live without getting hurt, she had to throw away all such unnecessary emotions.
Then she should be doing that now, too…
And yet, her heart was an absolute mess.
It would be fine, she told herself—if she just numbed her heart again like before, she’d be fine.
That’s what she thought… but she wasn’t fine at all.
The brief scene she had witnessed kept clinging to her mind like a poisonous weed, turning her heart into a living hell.
—Shall we go?
—Ah, thank you.
A man, elegantly extending his arm toward a woman.
A woman, shyly blushing as she reached out to take his arm.
That picturesque scene kept replaying over and over in her head, so much that she couldn’t fall asleep.
All night long, she tossed and turned; when she couldn’t stand it anymore, she would suddenly sit up for a while, only to lie back down again—dozens of times.
Even so, she had no thought of stepping outside her door like she had before.
When she thought about who it was standing at the end of that hallway, and what had eventually happened there in the end—she knew she must never step outside that door again.
Hadn’t she seen it clearly with her own eyes today?
Who it was that would stand beside the dazzling Duke of Chaestier.
Of course, there had never been a place for Deborah there from the very beginning.
Her place was, as always, here—right where she was now.
An orphan, a poor woman with nothing.
A woman who relied on the Chaestier household for food and shelter, whose entire world was a cramped attic barely big enough for two small folding beds.
A foolish woman who mistook a fleeting night’s amusement for love and threw everything she had into it without hesitation.
That was who Deborah truly was.
That’s why she didn’t want to lose anything anymore.
She didn’t want her heart to be stolen again, and she didn’t want to give it away ever again.
Clunk—
At that moment, she thought she heard the sound of the wooden floor creaking somewhere.
Deborah pulled the blanket over her head and curled up tightly.
She prayed desperately for this terrible night to end quickly…
“Wow, your face…”
That was what Hanna said, mouth agape, when she saw Deborah’s face the next morning.
Feeling a pang of guilt as if her secret had been exposed, Deborah awkwardly brushed her rough cheek with the back of her hand.
“Did you not sleep again?”
The word “again” was fitting—recently, Deborah hadn’t been able to sleep properly for days.
Feeling like she was causing needless worry, Deborah slightly shook her head.
“…No, I woke up briefly at dawn, but then I went back to sleep.”
At her words telling her not to worry, Hanna narrowed her eyes.
“You look like someone who hasn’t slept a wink.”
“……”
“What is it? Seriously, is something going on? You were never exactly a sound sleeper, but you weren’t this bad before.”
Deborah had tried her best to hide it, but living in such a small space made that impossible.
If even Hanna—who normally could sleep through anything—had noticed, it meant Deborah’s sleep problem was indeed serious.
She knew it herself, of course—but no matter how hard she tried, fixing it wasn’t as easy as she thought.
“Hey, should I maybe ask Alisa about it?”
“…Alisa?”
“Yeah. You know, Alisa has a bad case of insomnia. She said she brews some kind of herbal tea, and also—what was it?—she stuffs something into her pillow. What was it again? Lavender? Or was it jasmine?”
As Hannah frowned and tilted her head, trying to remember, Deborah finally understood what she meant.
“Anyway, I’ll try to ask her for a few of those. She freaks out if she doesn’t have them, so that must mean they work pretty well, right?”
“But how could you just…”
She meant—how could Hanna ask for something that important so casually?
Seeing Deborah worry, Hannah waved her hand dismissively.
“Oh, come on. It’s fine. She still owes me money I lent her, remember? That’s why.”
Giggling, Hanna said not to worry. Deborah simply stared at her.
Perhaps feeling embarrassed under Deborah’s silent gaze, Hanna cleared her throat awkwardly.
“What? Do I have something on my face? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“…When will I ever repay all the kindness you’ve shown me?”
“What, kindness? …What nonsense.”
Scratching her head and smiling sheepishly, Hanna brushed it off—but Deborah truly meant it.
If it hadn’t been for Hanna, she might never have endured life in Elpengreen.
No—she was sure of it.
“Come on, what’s this about ‘kindness’ between friends? You’ll make me feel weird.”
“…Yeah. Still, thank you. Always.”
Saying she knew that, Deborah nodded softly.
She meant it—she was truly grateful. Thanks to Hannah, she’d managed to survive every difficult moment, one at a time.
At that, Hanna burst out laughing and waved it off loudly, saying it was enough that she knew.
“Leave it as it is.”
Inside the dimly lit bedroom.
The careful movements of Greg suddenly came to a halt.
Glancing back, he restored the curtain to its original position and slowly walked toward the bed.
“Surely… you didn’t stay up all night again, did you?”
All night again.
Just as those words implied, Raymond had already been suffering from dreadful insomnia for several days.
The old butler, whose hair had long turned gray, was deeply worried about his master’s condition.
Although Raymond had always been somewhat sensitive, it had never been so bad that he couldn’t sleep for several nights in a row.
It was only natural for the butler to be concerned about what could possibly be troubling him so.
Come to think of it, it wasn’t something that had just begun a day or two ago.
Recently, those who served close to their young master had felt as if they were walking on thin ice, sensing the tense, precarious air surrounding him.
When Raymond, without answering, pressed his fingertips hard against his furrowed brow, Grayg let out a faint sigh.
“I will bring you some tea.”
It was one of the routines that repeated every morning these days—
to prepare a warm tea that would clear the head but wasn’t too heavy with caffeine.
Click—
A short while after Greg left the bedroom, Raymond finally rose from the bed and walked toward the side table.
It was only a few steps from the bed to the table, yet the throbbing headache surged back once again.
Frustrated at the situation that refused to go his way, an uncharacteristic curse slipped from his lips.
Hoo—
Roughly rubbing his face with his hand, Raymond exhaled a long sigh.
A day or two could be endured easily enough, but after nearly a week of this, his body was finally giving in.
It wasn’t just the hazy mind that came from lack of sleep—his entire body now felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton.
And to make matters worse, the pounding headache persisted.
With his thoughts muddled, even reviewing a short document took an inordinate amount of time.
Given the circumstances, it was understandable that Charlotte and Greg, who saw him most closely, were worried.
—Is something troubling you, sir?
When asked cautiously, he had flatly answered, “Nothing of the sort.”
But of course, that was complete nonsense.
There was no need to trace back when this accursed insomnia had begun to find the cause.
Deborah.
Everything—its beginning and its end—was connected to that woman.
Even so, unlike the sleepless nights, he had managed to get through the days with a seemingly composed face.
No—he had thought he was managing well.
During the day, he would often go out, or, if he stayed in the mansion, he avoided the second and third floors where he might accidentally run into her.
It was absurd to behave like that in his own home, but since he didn’t want to see her, it was something he could laugh off.
He had ignored the reason for his nightly sleeplessness, believing he was enduring it well—but he realized it had all been self-deception just yesterday afternoon.
The instant he unexpectedly encountered her in the parlor, every sense within him had erupted violently.
Even as he crossed to the dining room and shared lunch, and even until the Constantine father and daughter departed from Elpengreen, he could hardly remember a single thing—his mind had remained trapped in that parlor.
He had been dumbfounded, and for a while, angry as well. But after a night of heated thought, he reached a single conclusion.
Back to square one.
Whatever the case, he had to see that woman again, face-to-face.
But there was one obstacle—
Even after circling around and finally reaching a decision, he still didn’t know how she would react.
Then perhaps there was no need to take a straightforward approach.
Sometimes, cowardly methods worked far better.
Click—
Right on cue, the bedroom door opened, and Greg stepped inside.
Glancing briefly at the steaming tea in his hand, Raymond spoke quietly as the butler approached.
“Tell Charlotte to come to the study.”
☆▪︎▪︎▪︎☆▪︎▪︎▪︎☆▪︎▪︎☆
By Anna 💓
