# 101
101. That Still Strange Guest (15)
"It's not that I hate you."
"Then?"
Johnny asked, his eyes rounding. I swallowed a bitter taste. It wasn't Johnny that Alicia hated. It was the poverty that clung to him.
Even among the servants of this mansion, a subtle discrimination existed. The reasons varied—origin, education, age, experience. Especially for people of lowly origins like Alicia and me, the discrimination was far more severe. Alicia's pretty looks weren't praised by the people here either. There were already plenty of people far prettier than her.
As for me, I had mastered the art of working by reading the room, so facing discrimination wasn't too difficult. But Alicia couldn't care less. She acted proudly instead, even mocking their discrimination.
Once, when a maid splashed water at Alicia, Alicia splashed dirty mop water right back at her and retorted. Then she yelled that she wouldn't let it slide if it happened again. With her head held high, her confident attitude made it seem like she was already playing the part of a Countess. When she loudly declared that they would all regret it someday, I was the only one who grasped the true meaning behind her words, leaving me utterly speechless.
But at some point, Alicia started hanging out with the very maids who had discriminated against her. Furthermore, she began weaving a snare of discrimination herself, setting herself apart from the other maids. It hadn't been long since I noticed this change.
"Our first meeting wasn't great, but I know now that you're not such a bad kid. I can't call you a good person, of course, but no one is purely good. Aside from a few bad traits, I know you're a decent person trying your best to live earnestly."
"Are you badmouthing me or praising me?"
"I'm telling you to forget about Alicia."
"……."
"Meet a woman who can accept you just as you are. Not someone who can only find happiness in accumulating things, but someone who can tell you they're happy just by being with you, exactly as you are now."
People like us can't build anything up anyway. Wealth, honor—nothing is easy to grasp with these hands. My hands are infinitely small, and what was demanded of me was too much. I know very well that I can never become someone great.
Knowing one's place is just like that. When you can't even escape immediate poverty, talk of turning your life around is a joke. So shouldn't the partner you walk into the future with at least be someone who accepts you as you are?
A one-sided relationship could never be truly happy.
"Have you ever had that?"
Johnny suddenly asked me. His gloom had vanished at some point, replaced by serious eyes that bore right into me. Silence flowed for a moment. The silence hurled a question at me.
Have you ever loved someone, regardless of who they were?
Has there ever been someone who loved your true self just as you are?
Two faces surfaced in my mind. One was the person who had made me so gloomy right now, and the other was...
The sorrow I had desperately suppressed squeezed through the cracks and seeped out. It felt as if even my breathing had stopped; my eyes grew hot, as if the breath I forced out had blurred my vision. I clenched my throbbing hand tightly. Through my slightly parted lips, I couldn't easily force out a single word.
I lowered my head and suppressed the emotions threatening to swallow me whole once more.
"...I don't know. About that."
"How dry, so dry."
"Shut up."
"You really don't?"
"I don't know. I never had the luxury for that."
I don't have the luxury of being hung up on the past. My life isn't comfortable enough to chase bygones and wallow in sorrow.
This time, as I kept my head deeply bowed, Johnny observed me. Then, he suddenly clapped his hands.
"Hey, let's go check inside there."
"Where?"
Johnny flung open the door right in front of us.
"Wow," Johnny let out a short exclamation, looking around the room in wonder, and I also glanced inside. The room was quite spacious, with bookshelves arranged like a maze. The shelves were packed tightly with books.
A study? I followed Johnny, who was glancing around everywhere, and scanned my surroundings as well. Once we stepped inside and closed the door, the scent of books permeating the room filled my nostrils. I sniffed. Inhaling the familiar, welcoming scent, my tension melted away. It felt just like the bookstore I worked at as a child. An old, worn place, which made the scent of books all the richer.
"Wow, this looks fun."
"Hey, don't touch that."
I tried to stop Johnny, who ended up pulling out a book anyway, though I was too late. But Johnny paid me no mind and casually flipped through the pages. The fact that he could read and write meant he had read books before. He was just like me in that regard. I was secretly pleased to see him so absorbed in the book.
I glanced at Johnny reading his book, then ventured further inside. As I passed by the bookshelves, I skimmed the spines of the books lined up within. Then, I stopped as I spotted a familiar title. I pulled the book out with a bright smile. It was a book I loved.
Illustrations often appeared on the flapping pages. That brought a different kind of enjoyment. What started as a light perusal somehow turned into me being completely absorbed in the book. Johnny walked over to my side while I was like that.
"Whatcha reading?"
"The Sadness of Love."
"Ah, that."
"You know it?"
"Yeah. It's famous. They say it's for kids."
I had heard that before, so it really must be famous. Thinking that a masterpiece is indeed a masterpiece, I nodded, and Johnny added that he didn't really care for it. When I asked why, he said the ending was lacking. What was he talking about? That ending was my favorite part.
"It's a tragedy."
"That's the charm of it. Going off to find your own life—how could that not be wonderful?"
"What's so wonderful about that? They were just tired of dealing with all their burdens, so they threw everything away and ran."
I suppose it could be interpreted that way.
"It's only wonderful because it's something I could never do."
"……."
"There's a quote here that I love."
"What is it?"
If he asked, I had to tell him. I cleared my throat and 'read' a book out loud for the first time in a while. I steadied my breath, taking in the quote I had once read over and over until it was worn into my memory. Then, I softly let my voice flow.
"For when the Gods crafted and bestowed you, your very existence became steeped in blessings; love without reservation. All of it shall pave the way before you..."
My voice echoed through the quiet study. Johnny showed genuine curiosity, focusing intently on my words. Seeing him so focused, I became even more animated and continued reading.
It was that very moment.
The door suddenly flew open.
I immediately grabbed Johnny's shoulder and ducked. Johnny's eyes went wide. I pressed my index finger to my lips and signaled for him to be quiet. With my other hand, I pointed toward the door. Catching my meaning, Johnny quickly clapped both hands over his mouth.
I shoved the book I was holding back onto a random shelf. Holding my breath, I moved with utmost caution to avoid making a sound. Only after sliding the book onto the shelf did I finally exhale. Silently, of course.
I turned my gaze back to the door. The fortunate thing was that the bookshelves were arranged like a maze. Furthermore, we were quite a distance from the door, hidden behind the shelves and books, so they probably couldn't see us clearly from the other side. Unfortunately, that meant we couldn't see the door clearly either.
I kept my eyes glued to the gap between the books. The door had clearly opened, yet strangely, I couldn't hear a single sound. There wasn't even a presence. Just as the thought crossed my mind—*Did someone not come in?*—footsteps echoed.
*Thud, thud.* The sound confirmed that someone had indeed entered the room. I focused intently on the footsteps. *Who is it? Could it be Lady Audrey?* I couldn't tell who it was just by the sound. But whoever it was, getting caught would mean a scolding, that much was certain.
The footsteps drew closer to our hiding spot. I swallowed nervously. Beside me, Johnny shook my shoulder, frantically asking what we should do. I pushed his hand away and shoved him further inside. Then, I whispered in a voice so small only he could hear.
"Let's hide further in for now."
"There's a window over there."
"I won't stop you if you're planning to jump out the window."
There was no way out. Hiding deeper was our only option. I whispered for him to go further in, and Johnny scrambled forward on all fours in the direction I indicated. I crawled after him, throwing glances toward the source of the sound. The footsteps that had been drawing closer suddenly stopped. They repeated a pattern of walking and pausing, as if searching for the source of our noise.
Straining to keep perfectly silent, I stared through the gaps between the books. Slowly, the view near the door came into focus. The person standing there revealed themselves in flashes through the books. Going by their build, it was a man. His attire was luxurious.
And then, the golden hair that snared my gaze...
"...la?"
My crawling body came to an abrupt halt. I quickly darted my widened eyes to the floor and pricked up my ears. *Just now, what...*
At the voice that soon echoed through the room, I clamped a hand over my mouth.
"Paula."
A soft yet firm voice dropped into the silence. It pierced my ears vividly. I was so shocked my entire body trembled.
I covered my mouth with one hand and pressed the back of my other hand over it, curling into myself. Because it felt like a scream would erupt the moment I let go, and because I couldn't believe what I had just heard...
The call did not come again. But I knew exactly who had entered the room. How could I not know?
Vincent.
The person who had entered was Vincent. He was here. And he called my...
I curled into an even tighter ball. Even though I knew I was hidden from his view, I still tried to make myself as small as possible. I was terrified he might find me. He had stopped calling out and grown quiet, and I knew what he was waiting for. He, too, was trying to figure out who else was in here by listening for sounds. That was why I couldn't move an inch. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to even exhale.
"……."
The silence stretched on.
Neither Johnny nor I let out even a breath. The room was as still as if no one was there.
What broke the long silence was a heavy sigh. *Tap, tap.* Footsteps followed, only to fade away shortly after. *Thud.* The door closed, and the footsteps ceased entirely. Only then did the tension finally drain from my body.
Johnny, who had been holding his breath just like me, let out a sigh of relief. He came over and patted my shoulder, which was still curled inward.
"Hey, he's gone."
"……."
"Hey, hey. I said he's gone."
*Get up already.* He shook me as he said that. But I couldn't move. I just stared blankly at my shadow cast on the floor.
Perhaps finding my utter stillness strange, Johnny bent down to look at me again and suddenly asked,
"Are you... crying?"
"...Ah."
Only then did I realize what was soaking my face. I blinked once, and something pattered down from my eyelids, dampening the floor. My vision blurred. The round stains left on the floor faded and sharpened in repeating cycles. I traced the tears cascading down my cheek with my fingertips. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, but they kept flowing endlessly.
I burst into tears right then.
"Hng. Sob."
"Hey, hey, why are you crying?"
"Ugh, huu."
"……."
A flustered Johnny grabbed my shoulders, but there was no stopping the tears once they had broken free. Yet, terrified that the person leaving might hear me, I couldn't even sob aloud. I clamped both hands over my mouth again and curled into a ball. All I could do was desperately swallow the wails threatening to spill out.