In another time, the young miss’s peculiar habits — all the little things that didn’t look like a proper noblewoman’s behavior — would have set tongues wagging. But after it became known that the so-called doodles she was always scribbling were actually technical schematics for magical instruments, and that she was in fact a remarkably gifted developer of them, no one laughed at her anymore.
I wonder if she’s coming up with ideas for a new product right now.
I heard the payment that came in from Lenomer House for that last batch of instruments was enormous.
One well-chosen adopted daughter, and Rüschino House has turned its fortune completely around.
Everyone watched the young miss’s every move and scrambled to get into her good graces. The miss herself seemed to have no particular interest in any of them.
She was, of course, as she always had been — generous to those around her, Sena included, and reasonably warm. But separate from that, her mind always seemed so full that there was simply no room left for anyone else.
Even the Young Viscount, the heir to Rüschino House, could barely manage to share a meal with her once a day.
And yet there seemed to be one person she was beginning to open to.
Sena thought of Leon, and felt a pang of something wistful at the memory of the way he made even her feel a flutter of something just by being near.
She smoothed her hands through the young miss’s dark, ink-black hair, and asked, as gently as she could manage.
“Miss. Why are you refusing to see Leon lately?”
Leon had been coming to the Rüschino estate every day without fail recently. But not once had the young miss shown her face to him.
“I’m not refusing — I’ve just been busy, and tired.”
Sena wanted to disagree, but the flatness in Kasha’s voice stopped her from pushing further.
Come to think of it, it was strange from the beginning — coming home so many days earlier than planned.
The Young Viscount had been secretly having a private study constructed for the young miss during her absence, and the early return had caught him completely off guard. But leaving the surprise aside, he’d turned on her with burning eyes, demanding to know what on earth had happened.
The answer he got had been exhausting in its lack of substance.
The sea wind was too strong. I grew tired. I’d like to rest.
And then she had shut herself in her room.
The Young Viscount had thrown himself into finishing the study, saying it would cheer her up — until that plan, too, was derailed.
Kasha, Kasha! Baron Marquis is dead! The marriage negotiation with Margaret can finally proceed properly now!
He had come bursting into the house, elated that a rival for Margaret’s hand had been eliminated. But the face that had greeted him wore a look that was anything but glad, and he had immediately deflated.
Oh — I mean, it’s not that I’m happy someone died, exactly… I just mean — Margaret won’t have to go through with a marriage she didn’t want, so…
I know, brother.
She had calmed him with those quiet words and then slipped back into her room, and the look on her face as she did — so unsettled, so heavy — had stayed with Sena.
Which was why, when Leon appeared at the door the very next morning, Sena had felt a wave of relief.
Why won’t Kasha see me? What is this about, Young Viscount?
I’m the one who wants to know! What happened at Elore Bay? She’s been miserable since she came back!
Please. Even just for a moment — let me see her face.
She says she doesn’t want to! What do you expect me to do? I’m lucky to see her once a day myself!
It had been painful to watch those broad, noble shoulders sag as he turned and left through the front gate.
And the refusals had continued.
Some days the message was that she was unwell. Other days, that she had gone to sleep early. At some point, she had begun scheduling things during his usual visiting hours just to have a reason to be out.
Something is definitely wrong.
Even as she puzzled over it, Sena’s hands moved with careful artistry through the young miss’s hair, braiding it with delicate precision.
And then, without warning, the young miss spoke.
“Oh — the dress for the garden party. Has it arrived?”
“Yes. It was made to the design you and Margaret chose. The fit should be right.”
Three days from now, the imperial garden party would take place. The thought of dressing the young miss beautifully after so long made Sena feel a tiny bloom of excitement.
“But why did you choose grey? Something brighter would suit you so much better.”
“…I can’t afford to be noticed at this party.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“This time, I’m the one doing the observing — not the one being observed.”
Sena’s hands paused.
There’s something in her voice. It sounds a little more like herself.
She glanced down. Both of the young miss’s hands were closed in quiet fists at her sides. Different from how they’d hung these past few days — slack and heavy.
Perhaps she had found her way closer to the answer she’d been searching for.
With a warmth she couldn’t quite keep from her hands, Sena finished the last of the braids.
Clop, clop, clop.
The white horse carried Holy Knight Leon Aranias steadily away from the Rüschino estate.
He glanced back once at the receding house. Among all the windows, one on the second floor — firmly shut — seemed to loom larger than all the rest.
Kasha. What has happened to you?
Today marked one full week since Kasha had refused his visits.
The day of the attempted abduction, Leon had finished his investigation at the village and wrapped up a few urgent matters as swiftly as he could before turning back to the villa. He had been in such a hurry to see Kasha that his horse was nearly spent by the time he arrived. But waiting for him was not Kasha.
Brother. Kasha — she went home.
Only Eve, eyes glassy with held-back tears.
What do you mean, Eve? She left?
She said something urgent came up in the capital. That she had to go back right away. She asked me to tell you she was sorry.
Not even a letter. Not a single line.
Whatever had compelled her to return alone, in such sudden haste — he didn’t know. But even in her rush, she had taken the time to personally instruct Anthony and the butler on how to keep Eve safe. She had tripled the guard. She had done all of that before she left. That was so very like her.
I’ll go as well.
When Leon said — without a flicker of hesitation — that he was returning to the capital, Eve had flung both arms wide in welcome, but Anthony had moved to block him firmly.
Brother. Are you going to leave Eve and Father just like that?
Eve is safe. They already failed once — they won’t strike again so soon. Get your things together and come back to the capital as quickly as you can. I’ve already contacted the temple. They’ll arrive tomorrow morning to escort Father. He’ll be entering the recovery programme at the Malopi Temple.
Malopi Temple? That’s where they keep the ones who’ve lost their minds. Are you saying our father has gone mad, brother?
Anthony. Father needs treatment. Urgently.
Brother, I know you’ve found someone you care about — but isn’t this going too far? Does our family mean nothing to you anymore?
Don’t speak carelessly.
Am I wrong? Malopi Temple — do you have any idea what that will do to us when it gets out? Our house will be finished.
Leaving Father as he is will be far worse.
Brother!
Anthony was always stubborn, but that day he had been particularly unyielding, and particularly sharp. Yet Leon could not yield either.
His priorities had already been decided. There was no other choice but to protect them with everything he had.
He confirmed the security arrangements for Eve’s protection in precise detail, ensured every step of the process for getting his father to the temple was in order, and then mounted his horse.
He was aware of Anthony’s face — twisted, staring after him with something that looked like accusation. Even that had not slowed him.
To ride with such certainty — to feel so sure of the direction he was heading — he could honestly say it had never happened to him before in his life. Not once.
And yet.
Kasha. Why are you pushing me away?
He looked back at the estate one more time. His eyes were steady with a quiet, unshakeable resolve.
Yes. You must have reasons you can’t speak aloud. Then keeping those reasons safe — that is also my work.
The hand gripping the reins tightened. The veins along the back of his hand swelled, green and sharp against his skin.
But it was no longer the curse that caused it. There was no pain. No confusion.
Until the day you open your door to me again — I’ll be here, doing what I can to protect you. That’s enough for now, Kasha.
The people along the road turned to stare, open-mouthed, as the white horse thundered past. But he did not slow.
First — I’ll begin with the enemies I can name.
A smile came back to his mouth. It had nothing of the solemnity expected of a holy knight, but it suited the beauty of his face in its own particular way — thoroughly, perfectly.
“What do you mean the dress doesn’t fit?! Didn’t you make it to my measurements?”
Crash.
The glass that had just sailed past him shattered on the floor. The seamstress flinched and bowed even lower, trembling.
“Y-yes! Yes, my lady! Your family has been a client of our atelier for several years now — how could I possibly make such a careless mistake?”
“Then why doesn’t it fit?! Are you saying I’ve gained weight?!”
“No — I — that is—”
The seamstress could get no further. She pressed her face toward the floor.
Odette, only daughter of House Tyrot, looked down at her and felt the heat of her temper rise.
How many times has this been?
Dress after dress this past week, and every time the maids had tried to put one on her, something hadn’t fit. It was becoming humiliating.
Oh, goodness, this was fitted just a month ago — why is it so tight?
The maid who had said it had been dismissed on the spot, but the sour mood had never really lifted.
And to be honest, everything had been irritating her lately.
Just the other day, the smell of pork boiling in the kitchens had been so nauseating that she’d thrown a tantrum and ordered every single cook dismissed, and had been reprimanded by her father the Duke for it.
“Get this person out of my sight.”
She gave the word with a glare at the prostrate seamstress, and the maids hustled the woman out of the room in seconds.
“Utterly useless, all of them. Can no one anticipate what I need?”
Muttering to herself, Odette sprawled across the long settee and stared up at the ceiling, then waved her hand at the nearest servant.
“Bring Simon Blanche to me.”
She needed her personal entertainment to improve her mood.
Simon Blanche had become the most frequent visitor to Odette’s chambers in recent weeks.
What she liked most about Simon was that he never bothered with clumsy pride. He was entirely subservient in her presence.
Knowing your place. That’s a talent in its own right.
Odette was just thinking this to herself, ready to hum, when the door was knocked.
“My lady. The Duke requests your presence urgently.”
She felt her carefully groomed eyebrows pull together all over again.
