Chapter 8: Waiting (1)
After Edmund’s visit, the servants of House Roan were utterly abuzz. It had been so long since they’d had a proper guest—how long, exactly?
For servants, having no guests was usually a good thing, but House Roan took it to an extreme.
“I think it’s been about five years? Since that time young Lady Roan received a visit from Viscount Lehmann’s family.”
“Right. At least when our young lady was attending the Academy, there were visitors.”
“It seems our young lady didn’t find the Academy all that interesting. She graduated earlier than everyone else, after all.”
Elia was still young enough to be at the Academy, but she had long since received her diploma and returned to the manor. For two years now, she had remained here—with no one to invite, and nowhere to be invited.
“Soon our young lady will come of age. Perhaps her betrothed will visit more often then?”
“Probably so. We’ll need to receive him properly next time. Yesterday was such a mess—we weren’t prepared at all.”
The possibility that His Grace might come again to House Roan.
Just that one possibility thrown out there set the servants of House Roan into a frenzy of preparation.
And so, the very next morning after Edmund’s visit, a budget proposal was placed before Elia.
“We need to replace the side tables?”
“Yes, the ones in the reception rooms are terribly worn.”
“Not just one? What is all this? You’re trying to renovate every reception room from the first floor to the fourth?”
Elia was flustered. They’d never used the budgets she’d allocated before, and now suddenly they wanted to undertake a major overhaul?
“Well… if they’re worn beyond use, we should replace them. But let’s do the fourth floor later. We don’t use it anyway.”
“Pardon? No, it’s just… well…”
“What?”
“If His Grace were to visit again, the fourth floor… Actually, after yesterday’s events, I took a look at the reception rooms and found rather a lot that troubled me.”
At the butler’s confession, Elia was struck speechless.
“So you want to renovate the reception rooms because of Edmund?”
“If he might visit more frequently in the future…”
“No.”
“We should prepare in advance—Pardon?”
“You won’t need to worry about it. It will never happen, so don’t trouble yourself. Isn’t everyone busy enough as it is?”
Elia returned the budget proposal the butler had stayed up all night drafting and shooed him out.
“But, my lady, just in case next time…”
“There won’t be a next time. Absolutely not.”
*Next time. There won’t be any such thing, and there shouldn’t be.*
*’Expect me to go through that madness twice?’*
She’d already lost sleep over Edmund and had nightmares to boot!
But the servants, with no way of knowing Elia’s true feelings, sparkled their eyes and steeled their resolve every time they saw her.
“My lady! We’ll make sure to prepare properly so that next time we receive such an important guest without any mistakes!”
“Don’t bother. There’s no need.”
“We were so terribly sorry about last time. I know it was short notice, but…”
They apologized without her ever having criticized them, gave up their breaks to tidy the already pristine manor, rearrange things, repair, sweep, polish…
*’Do they really all think Edmund will come again? Ha. My betrothed is Edmund Raspe. He’s not an ordinary man.’*
This was like trying to brew fruit wine from a tree that hadn’t even bloomed yet. No—it was like watering a dead tree, hoping it would bear fruit.
Waiting for Edmund, who wouldn’t come, was an act that meaningless.
She just hoped they wouldn’t be too heartbroken later when he didn’t show.
“Is everyone so desperate for a guest? Should I just grab someone off the street and have you all wait on them?”
Elia vented to Daisy, the only person she could confide in.
“He wasn’t just any guest—he’s your betrothed, my lady. Everyone was seeing him for the first time, so it was only natural they’d make a fuss.”
“So it wasn’t that they wanted a guest—it was because it was Edmund?”
“He’s special. Besides, people love watching other people’s love stories. More importantly, my lady, try this on.”
Daisy suddenly produced an ornate formal gown, dripping with decorations.
“What for. Are you selling it since it won’t fit? I suppose I won’t have any occasion to wear it.”
“Sell it? No, I just thought you might need it soon, so I took it out early. In case an important occasion comes up.”
“Important occasion?”
“You might attend an important event with Edmund.”
*Good heavens. Daisy’s caught the fever too.* Elia grimaced and immediately backed away.
“Daisy! I can understand the others not knowing, but you—you should know better!”
“What do you mean, my lady?”
“I’m talking about Edmund! The others might think we’re just like any other betrothed couple, but you know the truth!”
Elia had officially been betrothed to Edmund at twelve, during her time at the Academy. She hadn’t gone around announcing it herself, but word spread so fast. By sunrise the next day, people had come calling.
<How long have you known each other?>
<About Sir Edmund—I’m sure he’s very kind to you, isn’t he?>
After that, she was hounded by the same questions endlessly. Each time, Elia had to navigate with careful silences and half-truths.
Telling the truth was, of course, impossible. To outsiders, the relationship between Elia and Edmund was an indicator of House Roan’s fortunes.
For that reason, almost no one knew that Elia and Edmund were worse than strangers. In House Roan, only Elia, Eugene, and Daisy knew the truth—just three people.
To the servants, Edmund was simply a perfectly ordinary betrothed.
*’Until now it hasn’t been a problem… but should I tell them now?’*
But it would be laughable for Elia to announce with her own mouth, “Edmund and I are worse than strangers.” It wasn’t exactly something to boast about.
“His Grace’s expression yesterday, and the whole atmosphere—he seemed like a different person… I think his attitude toward you might change from now on.”
“He probably just felt like acting strangely for one day. Anyway, I won’t be wearing this, so sell it.”
Elia refused to wear the ornate gown Daisy had brought out.
But Daisy was no ordinary servant. She had been with Elia since birth, caring for her like a sister, like a mother.
“My lady, there’s a saying: ‘The duty of a noble lies in enduring uncomfortable clothing and adorning oneself beautifully.'”
“Have you lost your mind? That’s a line from a pamphlet condemning nobles for indulging in vanity and exploiting their people!”
“One could also interpret it as: the legitimacy of authority and rule stems from distinction and envy toward other groups. In other words, luxurious formal wear is a necessity for the nobility.”
At Daisy’s clever twisting of words that could have landed her in prison for insulting the nobility, Elia sighed.
“Daisy, please—stop looking after me and just go to the Academy. If you go, there’ll be old scholars chasing you around wanting to debate.”
“Leave you, my lady? Where would I go?”
In the end, Elia was forced to wear the frilly dress that “every noble should have at least one of.”
“You’ve lost weight again. This was tailored just two months ago to your measurements.”
The formal gown was so large on her that the shoulders and waist hung loose, requiring extensive alteration.
“It’s because of Edmund.”
“Oh, my poor lady. You’re suffering so much heartache because of your betrothed.”
“If you know, then be nicer to me.”
“I’ll tell the staff to be careful. Not to show too much in front of you.”
“Are you going to call them all in for a tongue-lashing? Never mind. If we act suspicious, there’ll only be more gossip. You know how it is—the more you forbid something, the more people want to do it.”
Elia had seen what the manor looked like that morning with her own eyes, yet she still thought complacently:
*’It can’t last, surely. It’s just because it’s the first time. Once they realize he’s not coming, they’ll give up soon enough.’*
Chatting beside Daisy, who hadn’t finished organizing the clothes, Elia took time to make up for the stormy morning that had passed.
At that point, she hadn’t imagined things would spiral so out of control.
—
It was still too early for dinner. Elia, who had been starving since the previous day because of Edmund, made her way to the dining hall.
“My lady, are you having a meal now?”
It had been so long since the young lady had come to the dining hall on her own that the kitchen servants rushed out in a flurry.
“Is Sara busy? No, don’t call her. I’ll just eat a light meal to tide me over until dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am. The head cook is speaking with the butler at the moment. I’ll prepare something easy to digest.”
All Elia had asked for was a bowl of thin stew, so she didn’t need many people.
But why were there so many gathered today?
“Do you all need to be here? Haven’t you eaten dinner?”
At Elia’s question, the five kitchen servants gave awkward smiles.
*’What’s this? They’re acting suspicious.’*
She was about to demand what they were plotting, but then the stew arrived, and the moment passed.
“My lady.”
As soon as Elia finished her bowl, one of the kitchen servants who had been glancing sideways cautiously spoke up.
“We have a question.”
Elia could guess what was coming just from the sparkle in the servants’ eyes.
“No. Don’t ask. There won’t be any need.”
“Even just what kind of tea he prefers… would that be all right? We heard he didn’t even touch what we served last time. We felt so terrible… and he was such an important guest.”
With all five servants looking at her with pleading eyes, Elia’s resolve weakened.
But even if her heart softened, Elia had nothing to tell them.
*’I don’t know. I genuinely don’t know what he likes…’*
Left with no choice, Elia resorted to a trick.
“Well… His Grace absolutely despises it when his personal preferences are leaked to outsiders. So I can’t tell you.”
The naive servants were easily fooled by the young lady’s words. In that gap, Elia hurriedly escaped the dining hall.
*’I’ll just lock myself in my room for a while.’*
But before she could even climb the stairs, Elia encountered an ambush.
“My lady! Are you coming from the dining hall?”
It was the head cook, Sara, who had been absent earlier. Oh no. Sara wouldn’t be fooled by talk of “leaking personal preferences.”
“I happened to have a question. If His Grace were to have dinner here…”
“Duck.”
“Duck?”
“Yes. The Ducal household—they’re absolutely crazy about duck. Every time I went, they served duck dishes.”
Elia, who had held herself together so well until now, finally snapped.
*’Why am I the one suffering through all this? Why!’*
Why, indeed. All because of Edmund Raspe’s madness.
“Then, perhaps soon, for dinner, a duck dish…”
“Sara, listen carefully. If, after today, anything that even vaguely resembles duck appears on this table—I will starve myself. Three days straight!”
Leaving behind a childish threat, Elia climbed the stairs and fled. Her white hem fluttering as she ran, she looked exactly like a duck fleeing from a cat.
And Sara, startled by the sudden outburst, missed her chance to ask further.
“Does ‘anything that vaguely resembles duck’ include chicken? Oh dear. I’ve already prepared everything for tomorrow’s roast chicken…”
—
*’Good. I gave the butler and the head cook a piece of my mind, so now there won’t be anyone else mentioning Edmund, right?’*
Back in her room, Elia hoped to forget everything—yesterday’s events, Edmund himself—and find peace once more.
But an unexpected enemy appeared…
“Eli! Elia!”
It was Elia’s older brother, Earl Roan, who had just arrived at the manor.
“What are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t be home until tomorrow because of the regular Noble Assembly meeting!”
“I came during dinner break, so I have to go right back. More importantly—what happened with the Duke yesterday?”
“I don’t want to talk about it! If you’re so curious, go ask Edmund yourself!”
“What? You could just tell me! Don’t I deserve to know?”
“Hoo… Fine, Eugene. Go ahead, ask me one more time. I’ll forge a notice of annulment tomorrow and send it to the Palace, House Raspe, and both newspapers. Understood?”
“Eli, you’re impossible!”
“If you want to see me arrested for forgery and publicly humiliated, then by all means—ask me what happened yesterday!”
Elia was utterly unyielding. Absolutely not—she would rather die than say with her own mouth, *”Edmund said he missed me so much he had to come.”*
Just thinking about it made her want to die of shame. How could she possibly say it out loud?
Besides, even if she told Eugene the truth, would he believe her? He’d just scold her for lying.
“Eli, fine. But if Edmund happens to come again…”
“He won’t! He’s not coming!”
Even right up until he left for the Palace, Eugene kept mentioning Edmund, grating on Elia’s nerves.
“What kind of torment is this.”
After Eugene left, exhausted Elia couldn’t even make it to her bed—she collapsed onto the sofa.
*’All day hearing about Edmund coming… now I’m starting to feel strange myself. I almost feel like he really will show up.’*
Because of the servants’ expectations, even Elia had started thinking that maybe Edmund *might* come after all.
*’Well. It’s hard to do something insane for the first time, but the second time might not be so hard…’*
Hoping desperately that Edmund wouldn’t commit another act of madness, Elia fell asleep.
At that point, Elia truly wished with all her heart that Edmund wouldn’t come again.
She had no idea that she would spend the entire time thinking about the man who said he missed her but never came to see her.
Nor did she realize that, just as Edmund intended, she would find herself thinking of him ceaselessly, all alone.
