“Jacqueline?”
“Ivel—… Sister?”
“Where are you going?”
I had just passed through the front gate of the estate when I spotted Jacqueline trudging toward me from a distance.
“Fleeing. Just go back to wherever you came from, Sister.”
“What do you mean, fleeing? And where exactly am I supposed to go — this is ‘my’ home!”
I stamped my foot with indignation.
Jacqueline swept a sweat-damp hand through his hair and let out a long, weary sigh.
“Parents are fighting. Mother’s furious. Just head to your brother-in-law’s place.”
“He’s not my brother-in-law. We’re not even married yet!”
I bared my teeth at him.
“And why do you keep calling me ‘Sister’ like that? It’s creepy.”
“The brother-in-law told me to.”
“I just said he’s not your brother-in-law yet.”
“Either way — you should go back too, Sister. You too, Emily. No point catching a stray spark.”
Jacqueline directed this last part earnestly at Emily standing beside me.
I didn’t argue.
I’d been caught in the crossfire of my parents’ arguments more times than I could count by simply wandering into their orbit at the wrong moment.
“Where are ‘you’ going, then?”
“Wherever my feet take me.”
With that, Jacqueline disappeared like a gust of wind.
“Emily, I think we should just leave for today.”
“It does seem that way. What a pity, after coming all this way.”
* * *
I had been looking forward to a quiet, restful weekend at home — and now that, too, had been taken from me.
But going straight back to the Hardeion estate didn’t appeal either.
So Emily and I stopped at the bank to withdraw some of the money from my account. After that, we found ourselves wandering the square again with nowhere particular to be.
‘I have a home and yet I can’t go to it. That’s somehow rather melancholy.’
We couldn’t wander indefinitely, so I ducked into the dessert café where I had bought macarons before. Lunch had long since passed and I was hungry.
I chose a strawberry cake topped with fresh strawberries.
“What about you, Emily?”
“This one for me. The chocolate.”
Emily chose a chocolate cake piled with fresh ganache.
We needed to spend a little more money. So we paid extra and settled into one of the café’s private tea rooms. The building was all glass, so even from our enclosed little room we could look out over the street.
We started with the cake, practically inhaled it, and then discussed the plan going forward between bites.
“What shall we buy today?”
“I’m not sure. Any good ideas?”
“We don’t really have anywhere to be anyway. I suppose we’ll just wait a bit and then head back. It’s such a shame — we finally got permission to go out and it comes to nothing.”
“Don’t be too discouraged, my lady. There’ll be another chance.”
“You’re right. Since we’re here anyway, let’s at least spend the money I withdrew today before we go back.”
Where to spend it? I thought it over — and then an idea came to me.
“Emily, the servants probably don’t get to eat nice things like this very often, do they?”
“No, not really. A popular dessert like these macarons would cost about a week’s wages.”
“Then what if we brought some back for them? We ask them to keep it between us. All that matters is that the record of spending reaches Kael.”
“That works. You spend the future husband’s money like water, and the servants see you doing it.”
“Perfect.”
I called a server over and ordered thirty boxes of macarons. I didn’t want to risk them selling out while we sat there.
The ducal estate in the capital was modest in its staff for its size. From what I’d gathered, there were roughly thirty servants in total, including maids and footmen.
“Please wrap them nicely. I’ll collect them when we leave.”
“Of course. And here — this is for our VIP customers.”
“Oh my.”
“You made a large purchase the last time you visited as well. With today’s order added in, you’ve met the requirements for VIP status.”
It was a gold card. A gleaming, palm-sized card in warm gold.
The system was simple: ten percent of every purchase accumulated on the card, and that balance could be spent exactly like cash.
“Oh, this is wonderful. I think I’d like to give it to Madam Mary.”
“Out of everyone, why Madam Mary?” Emily asked with genuine curiosity.
The truth was that Madam Mary loved sweets.
More precisely — her son did.
Madam Mary had raised him alone, but because she worked as Kael’s nursemaid, she had rarely been able to spend time with her own boy. Kael had always come first.
So out of guilt, she had made a habit of buying her son’s favorite desserts as gifts, and they would eat together in those small, stolen moments. Those hours meant everything to both of them.
There was a scene in the original novel where Madam Mary reads her son’s diary.
‘— Today Mama and I ate fresh cream cake together. I am happiest when I eat cake with Mama. I am sad that she is always so busy, but she buys me many delicious things. I am sure she loves me more than the young lord. I hope Mama stays healthy for a very long time. She is my only family.’
I couldn’t tell Emily all of this, of course. Being mistaken for someone who had read another person’s diary would be difficult to explain. So I simply said that I had heard about it from Kael, and left it at that.
“I see. Then Madam Mary is certainly the most fitting choice.”
“Exactly. This little card isn’t much on its own — but if I go on being extravagant with Kael’s money, the balance will keep growing. It’s not a bad arrangement, is it?”
“Not at all. I think she’ll be genuinely pleased.”
The more I thought about it, the better it felt. Madam Mary had spent so many years tending to Kael, often leaving her ailing son alone. So in a way, this was my revenge on Kael.
I would diligently spend Kael’s money, accumulating points along the way. Madam Mary would use those points to eat lovely desserts with her son.
‘Perfect.’
“Right then. Shall we head off—”
Just at that moment, a server approached our table and set down two whole cakes. The same strawberry and chocolate varieties we had just eaten by the slice.
“…I didn’t order those?”
“They’re from a lady across the way.”
Now, as I had mentioned before, this was a private, enclosed tea room. No one from outside could see us, and we couldn’t see anyone from inside either.
Whoever this wonderfully generous lady was — did she even know who we were?
“…But there’s no one here.”
I looked around and said this to the server, who cleared his throat and leaned in with an air of great discretion.
“There is a guest who would like to meet you privately.”
“Me? She wants to meet ‘me’?”
“Yes, my lady. Would you have a few minutes to spare?”
“I have nothing but time…”
“Then please wait just one moment.”
The server said this and vanished in a hurry.
I was bewildered. I glanced at Emily, who looked equally puzzled.
“My lady. Isn’t this a bit like… you know. ”The gentleman over there would like to buy you a drink.””
“It does feel a little like that.”
“Or perhaps we’ve become targets of a secret organization. We might have caught the eye of the head of an information guild.”
“Surely not!”
Emily’s speculations were in full swing when the server returned. Behind him came a woman in an extraordinarily elegant black dress trimmed with gold thread, wearing a wide-brimmed black hat.
‘Click, click.’
Her posture was straight as a rod, her spine perfectly upright, her gait measured and unhurried — not a single thing about her was out of place.
“What a pleasant surprise.”
What a voice. Refined and unhurried, neither high nor shrill, yet carrying a quiet gravity that was somehow also perfectly clear.
The mysterious woman sat down across from us. The slow, deliberate way she crossed her legs belonged entirely to someone who had been born into nobility.
“Ivelina Florence. Is that your name?”
“Oh! Yes. How did you know my name?”
The woman finally removed her wide-brimmed hat. Her platinum hair shimmered like sunlight rippling across water.
And beneath it — vivid, translucent crimson eyes. The lashes were thick and dark, making the red stand out all the more strikingly against them.
Wait. I know this face.
“You’re — from in front of the almshouse, aren’t you? The cat — you’re the one with the cat!”
“…What? ‘The one with the cat?'”
She didn’t seem to appreciate that.
She looked young, though I had guessed early thirties, so the word had slipped out naturally…
“I’m sorry — did that offend you? I’ve just never met anyone so beautiful, and I spoke without thinking.”
“…Oh my, ‘hoho!'”
* * *
