# 117
117. Even Coincidences Eventually Seem Like Fate (14)
Vincent himself replied nonchalantly.
"In the alley next to the village market. It was a face I'd never seen before, and he suddenly shoved a knife at me and told me to hand over everything I had. Seemed like a simple robbery."
"Nothing serious happened, right?"
"No."
Vincent answered as if it were nothing, but Ethan couldn't erase his anxious expression. After seeming to contemplate for a moment, he asked Vincent to explain in detail what had happened. Vincent calmly recounted the events of that day.
He had gone out to inspect the village, and because the market was crowded, he moved to the side alley when a man suddenly attacked him in the brief moment he was alone, threatening him to hand over everything he had. Fortunately, his guard returned just in time so he didn't come to harm, but because of the large crowd at the market, they couldn't catch the man and he got away.
He had tried to find out who the man was, suspecting it might have been planned, but no one knew his identity. He had heard that robberies occasionally occurred in that alley and had already taken measures accordingly—Vincent explained all of this in detail.
When Ethan, who had been listening to the explanation, nodded with a serious face and asked if the scar on his neck was also from then, Vincent shook his head.
Ethan closed his mouth and scanned Vincent up and down. He seemed to be checking if there were any other injuries. Vincent, watching such an Ethan, turned his head away. His gaze hovered in the air for a moment.
Silence fell in the room, as if each was lost in their own thoughts.
After a while, Vincent spoke.
"Even if it wasn't the purpose I had in mind, as you said."
He traced the pattern on the headboard with his fingertips. Then he only turned his gaze to look at Ethan.
"There must be a purpose that suddenly came looking."
"What are you talking about."
"I'm saying I have ears to hear with too."
Ethan's face stiffened as if caught off guard. Only then did Vincent turn his head again to face Ethan. A strange tension flowed between the two as they exchanged glances without words.
Calmly listening to Vincent and Ethan's conversation, I turned things over in my head. Purpose? Ears to hear? Key words were missing, but I noticed that the topic of their conversation wasn't light. Because I had seen Ethan's expression falter for a fleeting moment.
Ethan lowered his eyes and hesitated, which was rare for him. A contemplating face. The hesitation contained within was visible. Right now, Ethan was affirming Vincent's question.
Then, just as Ethan parted his lips as if about to say something, he suddenly pinned his gaze on me.
Seeing those sharply drawn eyes, I flinched. Unlike usual, his gaze was terrifyingly cold. A warning that I shouldn't be here struck my entire body. I gulped at the tension that had sharply pierced through me in an instant.
But as if that had been my misunderstanding, Ethan quickly relaxed his expression and smiled softly.
"Could you wait outside for me?"
Polite tone and expression. Nevertheless, the tension didn't disappear. I wrapped my other hand over the thick bandage.
"I understand."
After a brief bow, I turned and left the room.
Even though I had regained the freedom I so desperately wanted, I couldn't feel a sense of liberation. I lingered around, unable to leave from in front of the door.
And before long, Vincent came out. I glanced through the gap of the door closing behind Vincent's back.
But my view was blocked because Vincent had approached. By the time I craned my head to the side, the door had already closed.
"What are you doing."
Vincent, who had been watching my behavior, asked with puzzlement. I straightened my head.
"Did the conversation go well?"
"I thought you'd just leave, but that's unexpected."
"May I go in?"
"I've been curious since earlier—where were you heading to?"
Different words were exchanged. When I closed my mouth, Vincent stood at an angle and gave me a dissatisfied look. I lowered my eyes, then subtly craned my head to the side again.
I had thought something was strange since before. Even though he came for recuperation, I felt an odd sense of déjà vu from Ethan's appearance of only sleeping and skipping meals.
But now I understood. The reason I had overlaid past Vincent onto Ethan wasn't simply because he was holed up in bed sleeping.
Anxiety. I felt anxiety from Ethan, huddled under the sheets. It was like looking at someone standing precariously at the edge of a cliff—it felt like if you gave even a slight push, they would fall right off the cliff.
It wasn't that Ethan was actually that kind of person, but the atmosphere he gave off was like that. At first, I simply thought he was holed up in his room because he didn't want to attract people's attention. But sleeping constantly and skipping meals was a separate issue from that.
Was something going on with Ethan? Is that why he came here? He said it was for recuperation, but there might actually be another reason. For instance, he came to escape something frightening.
If it was something frightening, was his life being threatened by someone? But given the Ethan I knew, he was more likely to retaliate than to hide out of fear.
However, there was a five-year gap between us. I didn't think everything I knew was the whole truth. Moreover, since I didn't know the full circumstances, there were limits to my speculation.
If he had something worrying him, he could confide in me a little. Should I ask directly? No, if he was hiding something, did I even have the right to ask? Judging by Ethan's attitude just now, it seemed like he didn't want to tell me. If so, then it wasn't something I should intrude on.
In reality, worrying was the only thing I could do. Just reassuring myself that it would be nothing serious... I organized my thoughts while staring intently at the closed door.
The conversation with Vincent seemed mostly finished, so I reached the thought that it might be okay to go in, when something suddenly tapped my shoulder. I instinctively flinched and shrank back, then lifted my head. Vincent was standing beside me, looking down at me steadily.
Oops. I relaxed my expression and straightened my posture. The silence stretched on. When I tried to smile at him, Vincent furrowed his brows and glanced at the door. Then he looked at me again.
"Are you worried?"
"Huh? Ah, yes. I'm worried."
But he was standing very close to me. Thinking that, I took a step to the side.
"Why?"
"Well, he's the person I serve, so of course I'm worried."
"Is your personality originally one that meddles this much?"
Vincent said, stepping closer by the distance I had moved away. I glanced at him and moved another step to the side.
"Whatever do you mean."
"I'm asking if you're originally someone who's interested in this and that and meddles a lot. Come to think of it, you also asked me to deliver a letter and gift for Robert before."
"That was..."
It was just because he kept trying to get on the horse. But I couldn't say that and lowered my head deeply because I sensed dissatisfaction in Vincent's voice.
Was he telling me not to meddle unnecessarily? It wasn't like I was originally the type to take interest in someone or meddle in their affairs. Honestly, as long as it didn't cause me harm, I had no desire to concern myself with other people's business. But given my position of serving while reading the room, wasn't information necessary?
People say the foolish live long, but if I were truly foolish and dense, it would actually be harder to survive. I didn't need to know detailed inner circumstances, but I had to know at least a moderate amount of information—like what the person I needed to read liked or disliked, or what I should be careful about.
But even I had to admit that regarding Robert, I had definitely been excessive. With Ethan, since we had a past connection, there were parts where I was unconsciously proactive. From Vincent's perspective, it could certainly look like meddling.
"Is your personality originally like that. Full of curiosity and fond of meddling."
"No, it's not."
"Seems like it is."
It really isn't though. I suppressed the desire to argue back. It felt like I shouldn't be defiant right now. So I just looked at his shadow on the floor.
But suddenly the shadow grew larger. Puzzled, I lifted my head again, and Vincent's face was right in front of my nose. Our eyes met exactly. It was close enough that our cheeks could touch.
While I froze in surprise, the emerald eyes before me also widened as if startled. I watched the long eyelashes blink once, twice, three times, then recoiled in alarm and stepped backward.
"Wh-why are you doing this!"
My voice trembled on its own. I flailed both hands and took a defensive stance. Swinging my wrist wrapped in thick bandage looked fairly threatening. This was actually pretty helpful?
Vincent, who slowly straightened his back, looked at me and said.
"I thought you might cry again."
"I-I won't cry."
As I protested strongly and waved both hands wildly, Vincent scowled.
"I get it, so stop flailing. It's dizzying."
"Don't come closer!"
When he tried to approach again, I quickly backed away. Vincent paused, then contorted his face in unmistakable displeasure. Then he strode over and grabbed my bandaged hand.
"Urk."
When he pulled my hand, our bodies were close again. I tilted my head back as far as it would go. Vincent examined the bandage wrapped around my wrist, then looked down at me with still-dissatisfied face.
"Anyone hearing you would think I was doing something bad."
"Something bad—!"
...isn't something he would do. There was no way Vincent would do that to me.
Only then did my excited mind calm down a little. I stopped my struggling. Even I didn't know why I had been so startled, and I suddenly felt pathetic for overreacting.
"What were you thinking."
"I'm reflecting on the fact that I seem to have overreacted."
"Not that. You said you were worried about Ethan."
Ah, that side.
"Yes, I was worried. I'm not sure if this is another case of my excessive meddling, but he seemed to be going through something difficult. I just thought I hoped it wasn't something too hard. That's all."
"Must be quite close."
There was a thorn in his words, but I tried to take it as a compliment and shook my captured hand. Only then did Vincent release it.
I took a step back. Vincent looked quite displeased, then let out a deep sigh. Suddenly his face looked so tired that I tilted my head in confusion. Did he have something on his mind?
Whatever it was. I put the thought aside and turned around. I had thought about going into Ethan's room once Vincent left, but soon changed my mind. He must know I was outside the room, yet he hadn't come out—perhaps he was holed up in bed again, or maybe he wanted some time alone.
I had been told I meddled too much, and I didn't want to appear as someone who showed excessive interest, so I decided to at least go get some proper rest now.
But as I walked down the hallway and descended the stairs, Vincent following behind made me stop in my tracks again.
Come to think of it, there was this problem.
"Why are you following me again?"
"I'm bored."
The nonsense was continuing.
"If you're bored, why don't you go see Lord Robert at least."
"I went, but they said he's taking a nap."
"Then how about Lord Joely."
"Said he's busy."
"How about taking a walk around the area?"
"I don't really feel like taking a walk right now."
What was he trying to do.
"You said you were going to rest, right?"
"Yes, I was thinking of resting somewhere quiet."
Actually, my rest period had already ended. But with Ethan's condition being like that, I didn't have much to do specifically, and there was still time before preparing dinner. The maids who had finished their break would soon come out and start the afternoon cleaning, so I planned to kill some time briefly in a quiet place.
"Let's go together."
"Pardon?"
What nonsense was this now? But Vincent pushed my flustered back. Lead the way. His eyes said so. Walking ahead, pushed by his strength almost against my will, I still didn't know how to react to this strange situation. And Vincent, who had said he was bored, didn't seem like he would leave easily.
After contemplating briefly, I calmly rummaged through my cloth pouch and took out a piece of candy. Then I unwrapped it and put it in my mouth. Vincent, watching me do that, asked.
"Why are you eating that?"
"...."
Because I felt like crying, that's why.