Chapter 125
Isaac, who had returned to the mansion, wore a somehow unusual expression. The other servants had long since grown accustomed to his rough-looking face and rigid attitude to the point of considering them everyday occurrences, so they did not find it particularly strange. But Sasha was different.
Having become quite capable of reading him, Sasha quickly noticed that his condition was somehow different from usual. He looked tired, and every so often he wore a displeased expression, repeatedly letting out faint, sigh-like sounds. It was a rather puzzling point for Sasha.
To Sasha's knowledge, he should have been in his small, dingy office in Lancefield all day. Well then. What could have happened there to put him in such a complicated mood?
In any case, instead of immediately pressing him with questions, Sasha greeted him with a welcome full of affection, as any wife would. At Sasha's smiling face, Isaac smiled faintly as if to ask when he had ever worn such a deeply troubled expression. Then he was promptly caught by her hand and followed after her, his large frame trailing behind obediently.
“Did something happen? Did Grandmother perhaps come to your office?”
“Hmm? No, not at all. More importantly, are you alright? Did people… to you….”
“No. I was fine. Besides, I think we still need to wait a bit longer for dinner to be ready, so….”
Sasha stopped speaking there. She had belatedly caught the sour smell of sweat coming from his body.
It was only natural. It was midsummer, and he had traveled back and forth from distant Lancefield. As soon as Isaac saw her small nose twitch slightly as she breathed in, he quickly distanced himself from her.
“I'll wash up first and come out.”
“I'm fine with you as you are right now, though.”
“….”
At Sasha's teasing reply, Isaac glared at her as if to call her a liar, then went into the bathroom. Sasha giggled at the adorably petulant sight of his retreating figure—a mismatch for his large build—then went into the bedroom to change her dress as well.
Some time later, Isaac emerged washed clean from head to toe, and led by the hand of Sasha—who had changed into a house dress in the meantime—he went back down the stairs.
The mansion's servants were each busy preparing dinner for the master and mistress, or preparing to close out the day early. Isaac watched them with slight fascination as they moved mechanically, no different from yesterday, as if nothing had happened. Then he followed Sasha into the garden.
The garden was damp from the brief afternoon shower. Isaac seated himself on a bench where some moisture still remained. Instead of sitting beside him, Sasha stood at his side and toyed with leaves heavy with dew.
“So, how was that charity… whatever-it-was?”
Isaac asked first, as if making a preemptive strike before Sasha could press him again.
“People didn't do anything out of line toward you, did they? Those fools didn't believe that scrap of paper and condemn you, or….”
Sasha looked at Isaac's face, which was growing dark and threatening, and broke into a slight smile.
“You speak as though I'm entirely innocent. Strictly speaking, the newspaper article was true.”
“That's not what I meant. …I'm talking about them. …Why do you keep smiling?”
Sasha answered with unreserved honesty.
“Because you're taking my side.”
Isaac found himself at a loss for words in more ways than one.
“I wasn't smiling because I don't know how serious the situation is. I smiled because I'm happy you're worried about me. Happier than I thought I would be.”
“….”
“Anyway, you asked how it was? It was fine. As I said beforehand, the core group was composed of Duchess Rosalyn's acquaintances. I tried my own countermeasures, and they seemed to work better than expected on the others, too. I'm fine.”
Isaac roughly ran his palm down his burning face and asked.
“What kind of countermeasures?”
Sasha rolled her eyes for a moment. Isaac had also grown somewhat capable of seeing through her. It was one of her habits when she didn't want to speak honestly.
Soon Sasha deliberated and then briefly explained the method she had used, to the extent that Isaac wouldn't worry too much. Since the other side had even brought trivial orphanage documents, denying it would have been laughable. So instead of pretending not to know, she went in the direction of admitting it.
The story surrounding the donated goods was not simply meant to arouse people's sympathy. She made it clear that the protagonist of that fraud had been the Duchess, not her young self at the time, and had taken care not to sound like she was openly blaming her.
“What about the one who published that special report?”
Isaac said, listening to her story with a grave face.
When Sasha blinked lightly, he spoke again with emphasis.
“We need to settle this somehow. If what you say is true, the Duchess's prestige was also damaged, so the Ducal household won't stay still either.”
“…No. Isaac. They will stay still. If my guess is correct, Geoffrey is likely behind this.”
Isaac's teeth automatically ground together with a clench. Without minding that his gaze had turned vicious, Sasha continued.
“Somehow, I felt something was strange at the wedding. His unusually arrogant attitude then, and the fact that he's not the type to quietly swallow such humiliation—I realized this must be how he's stirring things up. Of course, it's only a guess, but it's probably highly likely to be correct.”
Listening to Sasha's explanation, Isaac's complexion darkened further. He felt so terribly powerless. If he had not been like that young duke but rather someone with some standing in high society, he could have sheltered her openly for all to see. He had hated both high society and his family from the start, and had enlisted early as if to escape. The sense of helplessness—that there was nothing he could do in this situation but silently guard her back—made his jaw tighten.
Of course, it was precisely that aspect of Isaac that had made her choose him.
…Even so.
“It bothers me a little that I haven't received any word from the Count's household. I'll have to send a letter first thing tomorrow morning.”
“…If it's a letter, one came to me. From Grandmother.”
Making Isaac's guilt meaningless, Sasha changed the subject with a face that showed she didn't care about it at all. Isaac, rather, looked at her as though he were the one disappointed, and spoke sullenly.
“Ah, I see. Then I'd better wait a bit. What did she say in her reply?”
“….”
Sasha stared at him silently. Isaac belatedly made an 'ah' face, as if realizing his mistake, and said, “I'll write a letter later and send it from our side.”
It seemed like a fairly satisfactory answer. She smiled gently.
His gaze had been fixed steadily on her for a while now. Sasha flicked away the moisture from a nearby leaf, then turned her head as if sensing his eyes.
And then she smiled again.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Why do you look sorry?”
“…I….”
“When you think about it, I'm only now receiving the price for the lies I put off.”
“It wasn't even a lie started by your own will.”
“But even after she passed away, I continued the lie purely out of my own greed.”
At her words, which refuted him as if she were talking about someone else, Isaac sighed, exasperated in many ways.
He glared at the ground for no reason, then lifted his head. Their eyes met again.
“I was the one who seduced you into marriage for no reason, and instead of confessing midway, I only planned to deceive you until the very end.”
“Sasha.”
“…You're a fool.”
Before Isaac could answer, she leaned toward him. Her soft lips touched his forehead and then pulled away.
“And I am a lucky one.”
“…For gaining a foolish husband?”
“No, you know that's not what I mean. Don't pretend otherwise.”
Isaac looked at her with a still unsmiling, sullen face and said.
“Well. I'm too dull to understand unless you explain it properly.”
“I….”
Before Sasha could follow up with another teasing remark, Isaac wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her. She helplessly straddled one of his thighs. Then she looked at him with slight bewilderment. Regardless, Isaac buried his face in the nape of her neck and breathed in.
Yes. Sasha no longer wanted to talk about it. So regardless of his feelings of guilt, it was right to end the conversation here. Instead of sharing such serious talk, she wanted only his affectionate gestures and his easily-teased expressions.
Stubborn woman.
Though he clicked his tongue at the thought, Isaac felt a pang in his chest at how Sasha resembled him, as if looking in a mirror.
Raising his head, which had been quietly buried there, he found Sasha waiting as if she had expected it, and she caressed his cheek. Then she lifted his right hand, which had come to rest on her knee, and lightly kissed the back of it. Naturally, she slowly rolled up the sleeve covering his wrist. The mark she had left the previous night had already faded somewhat.
Sasha traced over the fading bruise with her fingernail.
“Why now, all of a sudden?”
Sasha looked quietly into his eyes and asked. Under the faint streetlamp nearby, her green eyes looked deeper than usual as they gazed at him.
“…Have you already finished all your studying in one day?”
Her fingers pinched his wrist with clear intent, and at the following question, Isaac's face flushed bright red.
“…No matter how much of a fool I am, it's not to that extent. Sasha. Last night was simply….”
“Oh, of course. Last night was simply that your lack of skill wasn't the issue, but rather your ordinary—”
Before Sasha's words could continue, Isaac quickly reached out and covered her mouth. With her lips suddenly sealed by his large, calloused palm, Sasha looked at him with slight bewilderment, then soon narrowed her eyes and laughed openly.
When Isaac quickly removed his hand, she wiped away the tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and kept laughing.
“Ah, I'm sorry. I was joking. You just look so cute when you're flustered.”
“…I've felt this for a while, but you seem to be quite enjoying teasing me.”
“Your reactions are entertaining.”
She was incorrigible in many ways. Isaac needlessly resolved, with misplaced determination, that he would show her a bitter taste sooner or later.
Regardless of how seriously Isaac thought about it, Sasha returned to a calm expression and released his wrist.
“So. I'm done talking, so what about you?”
“….”
“Tell me your story. What happened to you all day today.”
Though it seemed at a glance that she asked very lightly, Isaac now knew that Sasha was openly and persistently pressing him.
Isaac sighed for a moment. Then, after some thought, he carefully opened his mouth.