Chapter 11

“Only when it comes to someone I’m interested in.”

Mark said it with an indifferent expression, sipping his tea.

Adele, equally indifferent-faced, pretended not to have heard.

But being alone with a man who’d just confessed his interest in her was unbearably awkward and flustering.

“By the way, how’s Jade doing?”

“Oh, he’s always having the time of his life.”

Jade was Mark’s son. His wife, she’d heard, had died giving birth to him.

“Would it be all right if I packed up the rest of the pie for you to take home? I think Jade would like it.”

“He’d definitely like it. Though that sounds like you’re already telling me to leave.”

Adele couldn’t bring herself to deny it.

At that, Mark picked up his doctor’s bag and rose, cool as ever.

“Well, since I’ve had a delicious pie out of this, I suppose I’ll head off while I’ve still got the energy.”

Rising to follow him, Adele spoke carefully.

“I’m sorry. Being alone together still feels so awkward.”

Mark laughed heartily.

His wide mouth showed off a row of straight white teeth, and it was a good look on him.

“Honestly, it’s pretty awkward for me too.”

His candid answer put Adele at ease.

“So I’ll come by again when I have the time. It’ll get less awkward that way.”

Adele couldn’t quite bring herself to answer, and smiled vaguely instead.

He seemed like a better man than she’d expected. It made her feel guilty, having dragged him into this just to quiet the rumors about her and Christine.

“Yes, do come again. Bring Jade along next time.”

That way it would be a little less awkward.

“Ha, Jade’s going to love that.”

But it seemed like it was really Mark who loved the idea.

Adele carefully wrapped the leftover pie in parchment paper and tied it up with a ribbon, taking her time over it. Doing at least that much seemed like it might ease her guilty conscience a little.

That was when it happened.

The sound of a carriage came from beyond the garden.

“…!”

Wondering who it could be, Adele glanced out the window, and her face went stiff.

By then, the man who’d stepped down from the carriage was already striding toward her house without hesitation.

“Who is it?”

Sensing something was off, Mark asked.

Knock knock.

The next moment, before the knock had even finished sounding, the door was already open.

---

“What are you doing here without any word?”

Adele asked, startled, and Christine answered with his brow furrowed.

“Did I interrupt a good time?”

She could guess well enough what he was imagining right now. But Adele didn’t bother to correct him.

“Say hello to each other. This is Baron Mark Castler. And this is…”

“Count Weiss, isn’t it? I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

Mark greeted him with his usual easygoing expression.

But Christine only looked at him. His face showed nothing, but his blue-gray eyes were sharp and cold as steel.

“Chris…”

Adele called out cautiously.

“How unfortunate. I haven’t heard a thing about the Baron.”

“That’s rude, Chris.”

Adele scolded him, mortified, and Christine smiled. His mouth was smiling, but the eyes fixed on Mark were even more savage than before.

“You should have told me sooner, Adele. That the man you’re seeing is nothing more than some baron.”

“Chris!”

“Still, you were once a marquis’s wife, however nominally — shouldn’t you be meeting someone of a comparable standing?”

“Count Christine Weiss!”

At the sharp edge in her voice, Christine turned to look at Adele. Still with only his mouth smiling.

As the mood turned ugly, Mark, looking uncomfortable, stepped in to smooth things over.

“I’ll introduce myself properly another time, then. I’ll come by again with Jade, Adele.”

And then…

A soft peck.

He kissed Adele’s cheek.

“…!”

It was the last thing she’d expected.

Too stunned to do anything, Adele only stared with wide eyes, unable to say a word.

Meanwhile, Mark strode out of the house without looking back.

Now only Adele and Christine remained in the house.

Outside the window, dusk was settling over the evening.

---

“It’s an invitation from the Princess.”

It was Christine who broke the silence first.

He tossed a pink envelope onto the table, almost carelessly.

Adele opened it to find an invitation stamped with the imperial crest.

It asked her to join a tea time this coming weekend afternoon. It happened to be the very day she was due to deliver desserts to the palace.

“You came all this way just to give me this?”

“Partly to check whether you’d forgotten our promise.”

“Promise? Ah… the apple pie.”

Tilting her head, Adele spoke as though she’d only just remembered.

But how could she have forgotten?

She’d been working on it every day, trying to recreate the exact taste of her mother’s apple pie. Once she managed to get it close enough, she’d planned to invite him. But right now, she didn’t feel like admitting that.

She was still angry at his rudeness.

Just then, Christine noticed the wrapped apple pie sitting on the table.

Startled by Mark’s sudden move, Adele hadn’t managed to hand it over after all.

“Doesn’t look like you made this one expecting me… so it’s his, then?”

He said it arrogantly, leaning back into the sofa with an arm draped over the backrest.

“I wrapped it up for his child.”

“So the man comes with a child attached, does he?”

His neat brow twisted sharply.

“I’ve been married once before myself.”

“I suppose it makes sense, then — your first marriage was to an old marquis, so there’s nothing strange about your second being to some baron with a child in tow.”

His mocking tone struck right at Adele’s old wound.

“That’s my marriage. What right do you have to—”

Christine leaned forward and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across Adele’s forehead.

“Didn’t you say yourself that I’m practically your own little brother? Then I think I have every right to have something to say about this marriage.”

Adele quickly batted his hand away.

“You just want an excuse to criticize me!”

Her skin burned where his fingers had brushed it.

“Then I suppose you understood me perfectly.”

Adele felt a surge of anger rise in her throat.

And whose fault was this, really…

She’d only just managed to escape everyone’s attention and live quietly, and the moment he’d shown up, her life had grown complicated all over again.

Simply being connected to him was enough to put every noble in Greenhill on edge about her.

The instant they found the smallest thing to seize on, they’d all be delighted to make a scene out of it.

Pointing fingers behind her back, whispering…

She’d pretended not to care, on the outside, but she was sick to death of it by now.

Maybe, for her own sake, she no longer wanted anything more to do with him.

“I’ll invite you some other time. If that’s all you came for, go home.”

“No, I want apple pie today.”

“I already said I’d invite you some other time!”

“Do I really need an invitation? To visit my own sis-ter’s house?”

“Chris!”

He leaned back against the sofa again, adding with a lazy expression,

“I was thinking of staying the night. Since it’s my sis-ter’s house, after all.”

“Count Christine Weiss!”

Adele shouted, her nerves fraying, and at last Christine let out a short laugh.

“I suppose it’s only natural you’d be angry. You sent the maid away and were probably hoping for a fun night tonight.”

Adele was aghast at how absurd the misunderstanding was.

When she was angry enough, it seemed she couldn’t even manage to be angry properly.

“…You’re just like everyone else.”

She muttered, looking as though she might cry, and Christine paused, taken aback, watching her.

“You’re just like all the rest of them — believing the rumors and seeing me as that kind of woman. A woman who poisoned her husband, who’s so blinded by lust she’ll go with any man…”

Only then did Christine realize he’d hurt her.

From the moment he’d stepped into this house, from the moment he’d seen her alone with another man, fury had taken over and reason had gone straight out the window.

“If it was a misunderstanding, I apologize. But what’s with all that makeup? You’ve even got flowers in your hair… Looking like that, like you’d lost your mind, of course I was bound to misunderstand.”

Only then did Adele remember that she looked like some deranged woman who’d murdered a rat. But she didn’t explain that she hadn’t put herself in this state by choice.

“…Yes. I wanted to make a good impression on him. Though I don’t know about having a ‘fun night.'”

Christine’s breathing came low and uneven.

“Are you really thinking of remarrying that man?”

“What would be the problem? I’m tired of being alone now, too.”

That part, at least, was true.

For the past eight years, Adele had lived through terrible rumors, scraping by through sheer stubbornness.

Every time, somewhere deep down, maybe she’d wished for it — for someone, anyone, to lean on.

And then, absurdly, Christine would sometimes come to mind.

That boy from her happy childhood.

“You of all people should know better than anyone that marriage can’t save you.”

The way he stared at her, relentless, felt like it was binding her in place.

He seemed to be asking about her first marriage.

No matter how much she’d once longed for a noble life, why had she had to marry an old marquis at just eighteen.

And why she was living so unhappily now.

What had happened to her in between…

But Adele found herself looking away, murmuring instead.

“If I end up with someone to lean on, that’s enough for me. I don’t want anything more.”

“You’d marry for a reason as thin as that?”

“Is marriage really such a grand thing?”

Adele smiled, her expression resigned.

It was true.

She’d never thought about marrying Mark, but if it did come to that, she didn’t think it would be so bad.

He would no doubt make a steady, dependable husband.

“Lean on me instead.”

“What?”

Adele looked at him, startled, and Christine frowned.

“If you need to marry just to have someone to lean on, you can lean on me that much, at least.”

“That’s absurd…”

“Why — because you still see me as your little brother?”

As if.

If anything, the trouble was that she saw him far too much as a man.

“You’re going to marry the Princess.”

“What does that have to do with anything? Is it so strange for siblings to lean on each other?”

“That really does mean a lot to hear. But don’t you think I’d want to be his support just as much as I lean on him — isn’t that part of why people marry?”

If it were you, you wouldn’t need to lean on me at all.

“So it’s him, is it.”

Someone so precious that just thinking of him was comfort enough, someone she wanted to carry the burden for in his place.

There’s never been anyone like that for me but you, Chris.

But she swallowed those words deep down, and Adele nodded instead.

“I suppose so.”

A vein stood out at Christine’s temple. But he soon smiled coldly and rose from his seat.

“My apologies. For barging in and ruining a good time.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for the invitation.”

Adele held up the invitation, pretending nothing was wrong.

---

Clack!

Christine shut the door and left.

Adele pulled back the curtain at the window and watched his retreating figure grow smaller.

She didn’t dare blink, afraid of missing even a single moment of it.

The carriage carrying him soon vanished into the darkness of the deepening dusk.

Only then did the strength drain from her legs, and she sank down onto the sofa.

It’s fine. I’m really fine…

As always, she told herself that once she slept it off, she’d be able to shake it all away as if nothing had happened. Just like always — if she got up in the morning, baked bread, chatted with Mia, she’d be able to forget all about Christine soon enough.

She’d gotten along fine without him until now, after all.

I’ve gotten through worse, more awful things than this.

Having steadied herself, Adele put another log into the dying fireplace and lit the lamp.

The house, which had been as cold and dark as her own heart, soon grew bright and warm. Just that much was enough to lift her spirits a little.

“Pull yourself together, Adele, don’t just space out. This is exactly when you should be working. When exactly are you going to finish the desserts for the palace?”

She had to finish the desserts for the palace by the weekend. It would be her first delivery, and the Princess’s tea time would fall on that same day. Just thinking about it made her nervous, like she was about to be put to the test.

She got up again, tied on her apron, and rolled up her sleeves with determination.

“Tanya, could you get some flour from the cellar—!”

Only then did she remember that Tanya wasn’t here right now.

Adele hesitated for a moment.

I suppose I’ll have to go get it myself.

There was no flour set out, so there was no help for it.

Creak.

She carefully opened the old door beside the stairs. The rusted hinges let out a sharp, unpleasant sound. From beyond the open door came a chill air along with the particular musty smell of a cellar.

Adele shuddered without meaning to.

“I really didn’t want to go down to the cellar again.”

After a deep breath, she held her lamp up to the doorway. In its flickering light, she could see the stairs leading down.

There were only a few steps, but Adele still took them carefully, one hand braced against the wall and the other holding up the lamp. Her legs trembled slightly with each step down.

Jingle, jingle, jingle…!

Just then, a loud ringing of bells rang out.

Bells had been hung around the fence to drive off wild animals that occasionally came down into the village, or any intruder meaning her harm.

Most unwelcome visitors would take fright at the clamor of the bells and flee. Simply hanging the bells had proven quite effective at scaring off intruders.

But right now, the ringing didn’t stop — it kept going, on and on.

Jingle, jingle, jingle…!