# 124
124. The Maid Stands Before the Secret (3)
For some reason, Vincent's attitude had softened lately. Sometimes it was so unfamiliar it felt strange. It wasn't that he became incredibly affectionate and warm, but when someone usually so stoic shows kindness, it makes you feel inexplicably embarrassed and want to hide. My heart grew especially weaker against such sudden kindness.
I vigorously wiped my face with the handkerchief and then quickly pulled it away. It looked expensive; if I got dirt on it, it might not wipe off well. But the handkerchief was already covered in dirt.
As I was fidgeting with the handkerchief, Vincent approached again, patting my shoulder and brushing off the remaining dirt. Even as I told him I was fine, he kept brushing it off, so instead of declining, I started vigorously dusting myself off as well.
"What did you do to get covered in dust?"
"The wall of the first-floor storage room had a hole, and I got dirty while fixing it. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
A voice full of dissatisfaction flew at me. Right, it's not something to apologize for. But somehow, standing in front of him like this made me feel sorry for getting him dirty. I smiled awkwardly and fiddled with my hair.
"You got your hands dirty for nothing."
"It's fine. Don't apologize."
As if to prove he was truly fine, he unhesitatingly continued to pat the rest of the dirt off my shoulder. His touch was quite rough. However, when brushing off my hair, his movements became careful as he meticulously ran his fingers through the strands. It felt somewhat ticklish, so I turned my head slightly.
"Why do you always suffer needlessly?"
"I didn't suffer much. It wasn't that difficult of a task."
Every time he combed through my hair with his fingers, my body kept flinching. I needlessly scratched the back of my neck.
"If something is broken, tell Audrey to call a professional. Don't fix it yourself."
"They said we should at least patch it up temporarily. Besides, I didn't do it alone; I did it with someone else."
"Regardless, you don't need to suffer like that. Next time, tell Audrey right away. That's what she's here for."
"I understand."
With my answer, the conversation ended. He remained silent for a moment, perhaps focusing on brushing off the dust. I was grateful for his meticulousness in dusting off every single strand of hair, but his fingers kept digging into my hair, tickling me, so I earnestly hoped he would finish quickly.
Struggling to maintain my composure and suppressing the urge to run away, the hand that had been rummaging through my hair lingered on one spot for a particularly long time. I casually shifted my wandering gaze backward.
Vincent was holding the ends of my hair and staring intently at them. The slightly curled ends of my hair swayed this way and that in his hand.
As he examined it closely, almost playing with it, I noticed the faint bruise still remaining on Vincent's cheek. After his fistfight with Ethan, he also suffered from a swollen face, but now the swelling had completely gone down, and the cuts and bruises had almost disappeared.
As I was examining his now-clean face from various angles, my eyes met Vincent's. He abruptly dropped my hair.
"Dust isn't good for you, so make sure to wash up as soon as you get back to your room."
"...Yes."
I answered a beat too late, grasping the ends of my hair that his touch had just left. After spacing out for a moment, I was startled and unfolded the handkerchief I was holding. Having gripped it so tightly, the once-stiff handkerchief was now wrinkled. I frantically tried to smooth out the wrinkles, but its original stiffness was already gone. Furthermore, the dark stains on it were an eyesore.
"I'll wash the handkerchief and return it to you."
"It's fine. You can throw it away."
"Ah, no. I will wash it and give it back."
It was clearly expensive; I couldn't just throw it away because it got stained. When I insisted that I would wash it clean and return it, Vincent reluctantly answered.
"Do as you please."
I carefully placed his handkerchief into my skirt pocket.
Vincent, who had turned around, shook his hands off. Seeing the dust puff up like smoke made me feel incredibly embarrassed.
"But everyone wasn't in their rooms. Where did they go?"
Even after Ethan left, Vincent continued to visit Robert frequently, just like before. He must have come looking for Robert today and come down after finding him absent from his room.
"They had lunch and went for a walk around the area. I think they'll be back soon."
It had been quite some time since they went for their walk, and since it was now evening, they would probably return soon. Thinking up to that point, something suddenly crossed my mind.
"Um, Master. Did Ethan return safely?"
The last image I had of Ethan had been weighing on my mind all this time. It might just be my imagination, but I was really worried that something might have actually happened to him.
But Vincent merely glanced at me without giving a clear answer. His face, with his eyes cast down and his lips tightly pressed together, somehow looked heavy, which suddenly made me afraid. The longer his silence dragged on, the greater my anxiety grew. If something really had happened, just as I feared...?
"He returned safely."
His returning voice was light enough to make my anxiety vanish completely.
"Did he say he was alright?"
"He arrived perfectly fine."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Did you think something happened to Ethan?"
"Ah, no. I was just wondering if he arrived safely."
If nothing happened, that was a relief. I clutched my chest and secretly let out a sigh of relief. I had been anxious because there was no news right after Ethan left, but now I could finally feel at ease. When I smiled slightly, Vincent stared at me intently. I quickly composed my expression and pretended to straighten my clothes.
"What's this?"
In the meantime, Vincent picked up the bouquet he had set down on the ground.
"A bouquet. I received it as a gift."
"From who?"
"Huh? Oh, from someone I know."
"Hmm."
He shook the bouquet from side to side as if admiring it. White petals fluttered and fell to the ground. At this rate, the whole bouquet will be ruined. I watched for a chance to ask for it back, and as if sensing my thoughts, Vincent smoothly held out the bouquet. I hesitantly reached out and gently grasped it.
However, he didn't let go, keeping his gaze fixed on the bouquet.
"It's nothing but white flowers."
"Ah, yes. They made it with only white flowers."
"Don't they usually make bouquets with colorful flowers? It's a shame there's only one kind of flower."
"No. I like white flowers..."
A gentle breeze blew from somewhere, making the white flowers dance gracefully. The falling petals patted and tickled the back of my hand. As I watched the scene for a moment, it felt like I was standing in a field of white flowers.
The vast flower field seemed to blow away my complicated feelings just by looking at it. The sensation tickling my skin felt pleasant, as if warmly embracing me. I recalled the place where I felt like I could get drunk on the fragrant scent of flowers. The face of Lucas, smiling brightly like an excited child as he showed me the secret place, came to mind vividly.
"...Because I like them."
Memories that surfaced from time to time made me sink into reverie and want to look back. And ultimately, I ended up regretting the past.
The face of Lucas I remembered was his face from that terrible night, struggling to shout at me to run away. That face was etched vividly in my mind, eroding away other memories. Even in the nightmares and hallucinations I occasionally had, Lucas wore that horrific face. As if telling me not to forget that tragedy.
So why, right now, is your brightly smiling face surfacing so vividly?
My mood became gloomy. Afraid I might be making a bad expression, I wanted to bury my face in the white bouquet, but on the other hand, I also wanted to throw the bouquet far away.
Kind people give kind hearts, but I couldn't become such a person. I received an armful of kind hearts, but I had nothing to give in return. So, five years ago, I ultimately betrayed Lucas's goodwill. That's why I didn't look back. Because I knew how despicable of a person I was.
'You benefited from that face.'
They were right. But they were also wrong. It wasn't that I benefited because my face was ugly. My heart was ugly, and so my face became ugly as well.
I still hear the screams of the people who were sacrificed because of me.
"I like them too."
Vincent gently released his hand from the bouquet.
"White flowers."
But his gaze didn't fall away from the bouquet. His emerald eyes, watching the bouquet being embraced in my arms, were dyed with warmth. The corners of his lips also rose softly.
"Because they remind me of a kind person."
Was he also thinking of Lucas right now? With an ambivalent feeling accompanied by both joy and sorrow, I forced a smile.
"That's true."
Once again, a gentle breeze blew and disrupted the surroundings. It seemed to stroke my hair and caress my cheek. I tilted my head at the cool and affectionate sensation. I felt as if the gloom I had just felt was disappearing.
When I turned my head, Vincent was already looking at me. Our eyes met. White flower petals, shaken by the wind, fluttered across the space between him and me. His gaze, looking at me through the falling petals, was unwavering. He stared straight at me. So I couldn't tear my eyes away from him either. Because he was looking at me as if he had something he wanted to say.
The sound of the wind that had blown past and the sensation tickling my cheek felt distant.
"A petal..."
His voice flowed out low. Like the wind whispering in my ear. I shrank my neck at the ticklish feeling, and Vincent took a step closer to me. Then, as he slowly reached his raised hand out to me, I couldn't move.
His fingertips brushed against my collar. A petal clung to the tip of his withdrawn fingers. His gaze precariously followed the petal as it was carried away by the wind.
Suddenly, I became curious.
What kind of feelings do you feel when you recall Lucas?
Is it joy, or agony? It was hard to gauge which way the scale would tip. The sacrifice was too great to simply sink into reminiscing about the memories, yet that sacrifice was too valuable to writhe in agony.
Slowly, I held out the white bouquet. For some reason, I wanted to give this bouquet to Vincent. I knew I couldn't comfort him with something like this, but I hoped this white bouquet could bring back even a little bit of good memories.
"You lent me your handkerchief, so I'll give you this in return."
I made up an excuse about the handkerchief for no reason. Ah, what would Lenika say if I gave away the gift she gave me to someone else? But if I explained it well, wouldn't she understand? I didn't really care about that sort of thing.
"I'm lending it to you."
"..."
"But it's okay if you don't return it."
I said as if granting a favor. I thought he would rebuke me, asking why I was giving it to him or if I was making a fuss over a gift I received, but he didn't say a word. He just quietly stared at the bouquet and slowly reached out his hand.
Unlike before, he awkwardly received the bouquet and held it in his arms as if touching something unfamiliar. The fresh flower heads were completely crushed in his embrace, but Vincent's face as he looked down at the bouquet was so unfamiliar that I couldn't say anything.
"When did you get here?"
At that moment, a familiar voice broke the silence. Vincent and I quickly turned our heads.