Chapter 6
*’I… missed him?’*
Her heart pounded. Elia trembled finely, without understanding why.
Whether the suffocation and racing heart were due to fear, or because of the man’s plaintive voice and gaze…
Elia, who knew nothing of love, could not tell the difference.
*’I don’t know which it is. Even though it’s my own heart, my own feelings—I don’t know.’*
She felt as though she might faint from the emotions Edmund had recklessly poured upon her.
Edmund waited, but it did little to help Elia calm down. Rather, he needed to redirect her attention elsewhere.
“Eli.”
“Wh-what?”
“I brought you a gift.”
“A gift?”
To Elia, who was floundering in disbelief, Edmund mentioned that he had prepared a present.
*’Ah. Edmund brought me a gift…’*
Lacking the energy to be even more astonished, Elia simply took Edmund’s words at face value.
She didn’t even try to think about why Edmund would want to give her anything.
Looking where Edmund pointed, she saw two boxes wrapped in splendid satin. The expertly tied ribbons caught her eye first.
“If you don’t mind, would you like to open them yourself?”
At his words, Elia once again became a startled rabbit. His tone was so exceedingly polite.
*’If I don’t mind? He said that to me, didn’t he?’*
Surely even the Emperor had never received such treatment from Edmund.
“Um… you want me to open it now? I’m sorry, but my hands are a bit occupied right now… Could I open it later?”
She was curious about what he might be giving her, but she couldn’t let go of the shawl clutched in both hands. If she released even one hand, the pale blue shawl would surely slip right off.
The fact that she needed to cover her indoor clothes—which looked like nothing more than a rag—was hardly the important matter. Right now, the shawl was Elia’s only shield.
*’Haah. Thank goodness I listened to Daisy. If I didn’t have this, I’d truly look like a skinned rabbit in front of Edmund right now.’*
Even as things stood, Elia felt like a rabbit trapped in Edmund’s gaze. As if he might swallow her whole in a single bite at any moment.
“I’m sorry. Later—I’ll definitely open it later. Um… you said it’s a gift for me, right? Haha… I’m really curious what it is.”
Elia did her best to pretend she wasn’t nervous as she declined his request. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded terribly awkward.
But then—the man’s eyes, having been refused, suddenly dropped from her gaze. And then…
“E-Edmund. What are you doing?”
Edmund began unfastening the buttons of his formal coat, one by one, right in front of her.
“Wait, wait! Eddie! Have you lost your mind? Have you gone crazy?!”
Elia, aghast at the unprecedented sight, called out his name haphazardly. She didn’t even realize she had addressed him as “Eddie,” the way she used to when they were children.
Yet despite Elia’s outcry, Edmund’s hands did not stop unfastening the buttons. The movements continued, unhurried and without hesitation.
It was a perfectly ordinary action—taking off one’s outerwear. But perhaps it was because the one performing it was Edmund, who Elia suspected had gone mad.
Edmund looked as though he were doing warm-up exercises before devouring her whole.
“What—what are you trying to do!”
Yet even as she raised her voice demanding to know what he was doing, Elia couldn’t tear her eyes away from Edmund’s actions.
It would be shameless to blame it on fear. After all, the feeling of fear had already grown faint. Perhaps it was when Edmund unfastened the last button.
When his unwrinkled white shirt and dark vest were fully revealed, Elia forgot even her anger.
*’Good heavens. I must have gone mad too.’*
By the time Elia finally gathered her wits, Edmund approached her with his removed coat in hand. His body cast a shadow over her, and Elia reflexively took a step back.
The eyes that had briefly held a blue tint grew darker.
“Eli, don’t run away.”
“I’m not—it’s not running away… You’re being frightening. Showing up out of nowhere, doing things you’ve never done before.”
“Please don’t avoid me. I won’t do anything. I won’t do anything to you.”
“Is there, is there perhaps something omitted after that? Like ‘for now’ or ‘today’…?”
Though she was frightened and shrinking back, she still managed to retort. Edmund offered no answer, only smiling. Then he draped his removed coat over Elia’s shoulders.
His hands didn’t touch her. But the warmth of the man’s body lingering in the coat reached her—and it felt as though they were touching skin to skin.
The strange sensation was short-lived, however, as the heavy coat—laden with ornaments—weighed down on her shoulders. A low groan escaped Elia’s lips.
“Ugh…”
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“Mm. It’s so heavy. How do you walk around wearing something like this?”
“Still, I thought you’d be more comfortable than clinging to that shawl.”
“Ah, so that’s why you took it off?”
As Edmund had said, the coat he’d removed was large enough to wrap around her twice over, so she no longer needed to hold onto her shawl.
“Hmm… just a moment.”
Edmund, who had handed over the coat, stepped back considerately. Only then did Elia realize just how close he had been standing.
She also realized how large he was—and how small she was in comparison.
*’Even if you put two of me together, I’d still be smaller than Edmund.’*
The idle thought eased her tension slightly. Carefully, Elia moved her arms through the sleeves of the coat he’d draped over her.
She looked like a scarecrow in a wheat field, buried in the oversized garment.
Unaware of what the man standing across from her might be thinking as he watched her buried in his coat.
“…”
Though he treated Elia as if nothing were amiss, Edmund felt as though he were dreaming.
The thirty-two-year-old man had woken up this morning as a twenty-two-year-old. In his perception, Edmund had been despairing over Elia’s corpse only hours ago.
“Whew. It’s so heavy that just wearing it is… exhausting.”
To have the woman he thought he would never get back, alive and moving before him.
How enchanting it was. And at the same time, how it made him thirst.
To not lose his reason even with the woman he so desperately longed for right before his eyes—in truth, even he didn’t know how he was managing to endure.
“So that’s it. You even lent me your coat so I could open the gift right away. What could it possibly be?”
Elia waddled toward the table where the gift sat, weighed down by the heavy coat.
*’It better not be anything strange. I really won’t let it slide.’*
She tried to guess what it might be before opening it, but from the exterior, there was no way to tell.
She’d never received a gift before, nor had she ever wanted anything from Edmund, so her range of expectations was far too broad.
After mentally bidding farewell to the pretty ribbon, she grabbed both ends and pulled. The fabric slid away like a flower blooming, revealing a rough wooden box.
Carefully, she took the box and opened it…
*’Goodness, this… what is this?’*
Upon seeing what was inside, Elia froze and said nothing. With her back turned and no sound reaching him, Edmund felt a gnawing hunger.
He barely swallowed the desire to grab Elia and turn her toward him. Instead, he called her name.
“Eli.”
Hiding his obsession so that young Elia wouldn’t be afraid—pretending to be a loving betrothed.
“If the gift doesn’t please you, I can prepare something else. I can have it delivered to the Count’s household within half a day.”
“…Huh? What did you say?”
“About the gift.”
Elia had been so focused on the gift that she missed part of what Edmund said. Belatedly, she realized he’d been asking what she thought of it.
“No, it’s not that. It’s so beautiful. I’ve never received a gift like this before… This is a music box, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s a music box that plays ‘Euriah’s Dance.'”
“You’re really—really giving this to me? It looks incredibly precious…”
Even after confirming that what was inside the box was indeed a music box, Elia couldn’t believe it.
The carved strands of the maiden’s hair, fluttering in an imagined breeze; the bouquet rendered in inlaid jewels; and even a little dog with its front paws raised, as if about to leap.
*’If this is a music box, then everything I’ve seen before must not have been music boxes at all.’*
It was a craft so exquisite that its value was impossible to estimate.
“…Thank you. So you came here to give me this. Is it a gift that came into the Duke’s household?”
“I came because I wanted to see you. Truly.”
At his voice, filled with conviction, Elia felt as though she might faint again.
She considered asking why he’d suddenly missed her, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask—afraid of an answer she wouldn’t be able to handle.
But surely it couldn’t be love.
*’Love. There’s no way it’s that.’*
The heart a man who had shown nothing but indifference left behind, along with a gift—sparkling like a jewel, only to turn to dirty ash and disappear. It couldn’t possibly be love.
Yesterday’s indifference couldn’t have turned into love without warning.
—
*I bought it because I missed you, and because I hoped you might like it.*
After repeating that he had only come because he missed her, Edmund finally left the mansion.
*’He really just gave me a gift and left. I thought he’d throw divorce papers at me and leave.’*
What on earth had changed the indifferent man from yesterday?
Elia stood in the reception room, unable to even think of taking off her betrothed’s coat.
In the meantime, the Count’s servants came to the reception room after the Duke had left, fussing over the man’s formal coat Elia was wearing and the beautiful music box.
“It’s love—oh, how wonderful.”
No. That can’t be.
“The Duke, who was said to be cold as ice, has fallen for our young lady!”
Why—why are you all accepting this so easily?
“Daisy. You heard how the Duke treated me yesterday. How can you possibly think it’s love?”
Is love really like that? Without warning, doing nonsensical things—is that what love is?
“Rather than standing here, we should prepare the young lady’s clothes for tomorrow…”
“…Does everyone have nothing to do? Stop crowding around here and go—go on, get out!”
Belatedly coming to her senses, Elia shooed the servants away. The servants readily vacated the reception room for the young lady, who was clearly embarrassed.
But Daisy didn’t leave immediately—instead, she called out to Elia.
“Young lady.”
“…What.”
“Are you going to keep wearing that coat…”
“Agh! No—no, I’m not!”
Elia tore off Edmund’s coat as if removing a bug that had landed on her. She had nearly worn this heavy thing all day long.
“…”
“Daisy, don’t say a word.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
Daisy obliged Elia’s threat by keeping her mouth shut—but left behind a meaningful glance before departing.
That look, as if she knew something, drove Elia to the brink of madness.
*’Am I—am I the only one who doesn’t understand? Why Edmund suddenly started acting this way—am I the only one who can’t make sense of it?’*
—
In Elia’s eighteenth year, Edmund—who had confirmed love—forcibly wound the key.
The pretty figurine atop the music box began to dance upon Edmund’s palm.
The woman will dance until the key stops winding. Unaware that she’s on the palm of a man’s hand.
It can’t be helped. The story the woman doesn’t know—the man has read from beginning to end and returned.
For the time being, the woman has no choice but to be swept along, to be deceived.
