Is this what it means for your vision to blur? I could feel the heat rising to my ears. The emotions pouring down on me were so blinding that I wanted to run away. I shoved him away with all my might. Only after staggering back two or three steps did I slowly catch my breath.
"Please stop."
"Stop what?"
"Things like this. Teasing me like this."
I wanted to deny his words. I had to. Because meeting those eyes, which held not a single ounce of hesitation as if he meant it, made me want to believe him. If I believed him endlessly only for him to later say it was all a lie, I would completely break. I didn't want that to happen.
"What do you mean, yes, pretty? How could I be pretty?"
"Because you're pretty in my eyes."
"No. Don't say that. Please don't."
I shook my head frantically, denying his words. My overgrown bangs obscured my lowered face.
"Do you want to live your life blaming yourself? Do you really want a life like that?"
"Even I—!"
It wasn't like I wanted this kind of life either. What did he know about me to run his mouth like that? He knew nothing, yet he was trying to dig into my inner thoughts.
My throat burned from the emotions surging up. My entire body trembled. I glared at him fiercely. Vincent met my gaze and continued his sharp words.
"That's right. You don't want a life like that. You want to be happy."
"Please stop."
"Listen to me. I'm saying this for your own good."
"Don't speak so presumptuously."
"Why is it presumptuous? Then are you trying to say you have no right to ever be loved?"
"Yes, I am. I have to be."
"Then what about what you said to me? Were those just words you spat out to placate me? Or did you say that while secretly condemning me in your heart? Calling me a life that survived by sacrificing others."
"No!"
Stop! Stop it! I shouted in denial, shaking my head like a madwoman. I didn't want to continue this conversation anymore. As I turned to leave, Vincent quickly stepped forward and seized my wrist. I immediately tried to shake his hand off, but his grip on my wrist was too strong to break easily.
"Then admit it yourself. That you are someone worthy of being loved."
"Let go of me! I said let go!"
"Paula!"
I didn't want to hear his words anymore. I twisted my entire body to shake off his hand, and Vincent tried to grab hold of me. A brief struggle ensued. It wasn't until he grabbed my other arm as well that I finally stopped thrashing.
My wildly disheveled bangs obscured my vision. I panted heavily. One of my wrists was still trapped in his grasp, and with my other arm held by him, I pushed against his chest. Through the gaps in my parted hair, I could see Vincent's face. His expression was rigid, and he was breathing just as heavily as I was, but his emerald eyes were deeply sunken, as if piercing straight through to my soul.
*Don't run away.* It was as if he was saying just that.
"Why are you doing this to me... Are all nobles like this? Do you just not care at all about the feelings of someone like me? Is it fine as long as you satisfy your own greed?"
I let out a hollow laugh. His eyes flickered for a moment.
"Please stop. I've never wanted such things from you, and I never will."
"I want you to want me."
"……"
"I wish you were a greedy person."
"I am already a greedy person."
I had turned a blind eye to my siblings' deaths and the sacrifices of others just to survive. I was already a greedy person. I let out a small laugh as if to refute his words. Vincent released my wrist and gently cradled my temples with both hands. He traced the corner of my eye with the pad of his thumb.
"Truly greedy people don't wear faces so full of guilt."
"……"
As if trying to wipe away my tears, his fingertips gently brushed the corners of my eyes. The touch was so cautious, and yet so impossibly warm that it made me feel sick to my stomach. I turned my head away to escape his hand. Warning bells clanged in my mind, screaming at me that I shouldn't be doing this.
I could feel his gaze on me. He might be condemning me. But without a single word, Vincent finally let go of my other arm.
I hesitantly stepped back. Then, step by step, I retreated. This time, Vincent didn't try to grab me. He simply stood there, watching my actions. I realized that he had no intention of stopping me anymore.
I immediately turned my back.
"This is the last time."
I stopped and turned back at the words that suddenly reached my ears.
"I can't wait any longer than this."
What did he mean? I was about to ask, but clamped my mouth shut. Vincent stood in the same spot, gazing at me intently as he spoke.
"Come find me if there's something you want to say to me. I'll wait for you, one last time."
Vincent must have known. That I was running away again this time. And I realized that this was the last time Vincent would turn a blind eye to my fleeing.
I curled up, burying myself in the bedsheets. What had happened in the white flower field wouldn't leave my mind. Vincent's voice lingered in my ears.
*'You're pretty.'*
My ears felt like they were burning. I rubbed my ears for no reason and buried my face into the pillow. How could I be pretty? It was a lie. I had heard the same words from Lucas in the past. Back then, he had said it so casually in passing that I hadn't thought much of it. It was the first time I had ever heard such words from someone looking at me with such a serious, earnest expression.
I sat up in bed. Then, I picked up the small mirror resting on the nightstand beside Alicia's sleeping form. It was the same mirror Alicia peered into every day. A woman was reflected in it. An ugly woman with a gloomy countenance.
*'You're pretty.'*
But no matter how I looked at it, it wasn't a pretty face. It was a strange, ugly face. How could a face like this be considered pretty? I knew very well that I wasn't.
I looked down at the sleeping Alicia. Her face, framed by the lustrous hair she had recently taken such good care of, looked lovely even in sleep. I alternated my gaze between her face and the one in the mirror. Then, I let out a scoff.
Liar.
Lowering the mirror, I murmured softly. I stared blankly at the dark wall and took a deep breath. I couldn't fall asleep tonight of all nights. But even if I did, I would only have nightmares, so I'd be exhausted either way.
Confessions of love and words calling me pretty were so alien to me that I couldn't bring myself to believe them. I didn't want to take Vincent's words seriously. I wanted to brush them off as a lighthearted joke. Because in the end, the one who would get hurt was me.
Even though my heart was in turmoil, daily life flowed on unchangingly. I hadn't seen Vincent since that day. The intervals between Vincent's visits to the mansion had grown longer, and when he occasionally came to see Robert, he would visit during times I wasn't around, only to vanish just as suddenly. I realized that Vincent was keeping his word to "wait."
"It seems the Count is quite busy these days."
The nanny said as she placed the toys scattered across the floor closer to Robert. I offered a bitter smile and replied in the affirmative before picking up the books strewn about nearby.
"Read this to me!"
Robert held a book out to me. Just as I reached out to take it, the nanny interjected.
"Please give it here, Young Master. I'll read it to you."
Having recently developed a fondness for reading, Robert pestered us to read to him like this every day. Whenever he did, I would end up reading him four or five books at a time; perhaps worried I was overworking myself, the nanny would often ask if I was alright. But today, it was the nanny who reached out to take the book instead. After a brief moment of hesitation, Robert handed the book over to her.
Robert sat down obediently across from the nanny. Smiling, she opened the book. I began tidying up, gathering the surrounding items to one side in her stead.
"When the Gods created and bestowed you upon this world, your very existence became steeped in blessing; love without reservation. For all of it shall pave the way before you..."
I stopped mid-action of picking up a wooden block shaped like a letter and turned around. The nanny was reading the book with a warm smile on her face, clearly finding Robert's attentive listening adorable. I hadn't realized it before, but the words she read in her resonant voice sounded awfully familiar. Without even realizing it, I found myself focusing on her voice.
After reading to the very last page and closing the book, Robert clapped his hands with a bright, tinkling laugh. The nanny smiled broadly as well, telling him to go fetch another book he wanted to hear, and Robert trotted over to the pile of books. He looked quite serious as he pondered his choice. I approached the nanny.
"Nanny, that book."
"Hmm? Oh, this book? It's *The Sorrows of Love*."
The nanny held up the book she had just finished reading. Written on the cover was *The Sorrows of Love*. I knew it was a book even children read, but I hadn't realized Robert owned a copy.
"Have you read this book too, Anne?"
"Yes, it's one of my favorites."
"Really? I love it too. The story of a protagonist descending from the heavens, meeting various people, and learning what love is... it's quite romantic, isn't it?"
Was it, though? I mulled over the book's contents and offered an ambiguous smile. The nanny missed my expression, as she was busy glancing over at Robert. Robert was still deeply absorbed in picking out his next book. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the book's cover for a long while.
"Nanny, do you have someone you love?"
I asked out of sudden curiosity, and the nanny turned to look at me. Her eyes went wide, clearly not expecting such a question. Seeing her reaction, I felt a bit sheepish, but she simply let out a soft laugh.
"Well, I love the Young Master, and I love the Madam, and I love you too, Anne."
"A man... have you ever loved a man?"
The nanny's eyes widened again before she smiled shyly and waved her hand dismissively.
"My, how embarrassing. Why would you ask something like that?"
"Just... curious, I suppose."
"What about you, Anne? Do you have someone?"
When she asked me back, a fleeting scene flashed through my mind.
*'You're pretty.'*
Reflected in those eyes, which held a gaze meant for something beloved, was me. I was so flustered I completely froze. I hung my head low and shook it frantically.
"I don't."
Not in the past, and not ever in the future. Making that resolution, I peeked up, only to find the nanny lost in thought.
"Well, let's see... I did, once. A long time ago. Though it didn't end well."
The nanny smiled, looking a tad sheepish. Her eyes, resting on the empty air, grew distant with memories. Even though I knew it was a rude question, I couldn't help but ask.
"He was a childhood friend from my village, but he caused me a lot of heartache. We couldn't walk the same path in life, so there was no way it could have ended well. I cried so much back then, and it was really hard, but..."
"Do you regret loving him?"
I asked hesitantly. Asking if she regretted it because she ended up hurt. The nanny pondered my question for a moment before slowly shaking her head.
"No. I don't regret it."
"Why not?"
Why wouldn't she regret it when she had been hurt? If something hurts, aren't you supposed to regret it? The nanny pondered my question for a moment before suddenly holding the book up.
"There's actually more to the ending of this book. Have you heard it?"
The nanny shook the book she was holding. I stared at the book blankly. That was the first I'd heard of it. Was she saying there was more to the story after the ending, where the protagonist—who found both socializing with others and the very concept of love too burdensome—abandoned everything and left on their own? When I shook my head, the nanny glanced over at Robert before continuing.
"I heard there was originally more to the ending. But they said it wasn't suitable for children, so they omitted that part when they published it."
I had heard similar things before. I just hadn't known this book was one of them. I looked back at the book's cover before returning my gaze to the nanny.
"What happened in it?"
"Hmm, what was it again... Oh, the protagonist who grew weary of love and ran away lives out the rest of their days alone, only to eventually feel a profound emptiness in life. They finally realize just how much of a driving force the love they had grown so weary of had been in their life. But by then, there was no one left around them; the people who had given the protagonist love had all passed away. Having experienced being loved once, the protagonist craved it even more fiercely than before, and ultimately ended up taking their own life. That was the original ending."
The nanny spoke as she fished through her memories. I listened to her words in sheer astonishment. Even the current ending couldn't exactly be called a happy one, but the original ending was infinitely more tragic. It made sense why they said it was removed for being unsuitable for children.
"It's even more tragic than you thought, right?"
The nanny fanned the book open. Perhaps it was a version intended for even younger children than the copy I had read, as one side of the page featured a large, colorful illustration. Her fingers, which had been lightly flipping through the pages, paused on the final page, which depicted the protagonist walking along the shoreline.
"But that's what loving someone must be like. You come to know a happiness you never knew, while simultaneously discovering a side of yourself you never knew existed. It can be just as painful, and you might regret it when you get hurt, but if you felt happiness even once during the moments you loved that person... I think that alone gives it enough value."
"……Is it really like that?"
Even if you end up hurt and full of regret in the distant future, if you felt happiness in that moment, does that alone give it value? Is that what love is? It was an emotion I knew nothing about, so a pure curiosity welled up inside me.
The nanny tore her gaze away from the book at my question. She looked at me softly as I waited for her answer with bated breath, and the corners of her eyes crinkled gently.
"Of course. Because each and every person lives to share their life with others."
Saying so, the nanny smiled warmly. Just like that woman who had once told me about love when I was young.