3. Love Letter (2)
She seemed accustomed to such reactions, telling me to be careful next time before dragging me into the party hall. As soon as we entered, people flocked to Violet, eager to make her acquaintance. With practiced ease, she offered them light greetings and led me toward the balcony.
I realized that Violet held a much higher status than I had initially thought. Well, she had mentioned she was royalty, so it made sense. Worried that my presence might bring her trouble as well, I observed her reactions, but Violet quickly eased my concerns.
"I came here to do as I please. I want to talk with you, and I don't care about what others think, so don't worry."
Since she had gone that far, I gave up trying to avoid the situation.
"Are you sure it's alright? Does this happen often?"
"Not often, but it's fine. I'm not particularly hurt by it, and I've grown somewhat accustomed to it, so it doesn't bother me too much."
"If someone acts too rudely, you can speak up. You're not from a family so weak that you can't even say that much. They only act like that because they know Paula will just stay quiet."
Is that so? Come to think of it, these things always happened when Ethan wasn't around.
"If things get worse, just tell Ethan. What's the point of having an older brother?"
I merely smiled at her suggestion to make use of him when needed. Just a few days ago, Ethan had actually asked me to tell him if anyone was rude to me. He must have noticed that these situations arose occasionally in his absence. Had I told him, he would have taken action, but I didn't particularly want to report everything to Ethan. I felt this was something I needed to adapt to as well.
"Your life isn't as happy as it seems, is it?"
Violet brushed her hair back and asked lightly. I couldn't bring myself to deny it, so I only smiled.
"It must be difficult, but I'm rooting for you. If you ever need my help, just say the word. I won't hesitate to help you to the best of my ability."
"That's quite reassuring to hear."
"Of course. I'm always on your side, Paula."
Those words gave me enough strength. That day, I spent the party chatting away with Violet. We asked about how each other had been. While we had been exchanging letters, hearing it in person felt entirely different.
It was the most enjoyable time I'd had since I started attending these parties. Knowing there was one more person on my side in this world gave me the premonition that even this life could bring me happiness. Even after that, Violet frequently offered me necessary advice, which was a great help.
However, attending parties and meeting people was always a nerve-wracking experience. Noticing my excessive tension, Ethan eventually started only accompanying me to parties where the attendees were easier to deal with.
Ethan told me it would be nice if I made more friends my own age. I merely smiled, knowing full well that the young ladies and lords my age at these parties talked behind my back the moment I was out of sight.
"Refrain from going out alone for the time being."
One day, Ethan, who had changed into his going-out clothes early in the morning, fiddled with his cufflinks and spoke to me. Saying he would only have a light breakfast, he had the meal brought to his room rather than the dining hall. Not wanting him to eat alone, I had gotten up early and barged into his room, fighting off drowsiness on the sofa before turning to look at him.
"Why?"
"I heard there have been a string of kidnappings targeting nobles recently. It seems they're abducting young lords and ladies and demanding ransoms. They say they're having trouble catching the culprits, so for the time being, I plan on declining party invitations unless they're absolutely necessary."
"Hmm. Understood."
Lately, I had been making an effort to stop using honorifics with Ethan, which had become second nature to me. It was a proposal Ethan had made first. He said that since we became family, my attitude toward him was already stiff enough; if even my speech was the same, people would find it strange.
In fact, at one party, a noble who overheard our conversation remarked that we were exceptionally polite for siblings. Worried that acting too casually might come off as disrespectful, he told me that while siblings sometimes used honorifics in public, they shouldn't do so when alone together. Besides, it seemed he partly just wanted me to feel more at ease around him.
'Florence. I'd want nothing more than for you to call me Oppa affectionately.'
'...I'm still a bit embarrassed.'
To be precise, I was mortified. Embarrassed, mortified, and cringingly shy.
'I fully understand your shyness. Then, shall we come up with a nickname? Something like "cool, kind, and sweet older brother."'
'Oppa. I think it would be best if you just sat there quietly.'
I immediately put on a stern face, putting an end to his futile hopes. Ethan's shoulders slumped.
'It would be nice if you called me a bit more affectionately, though.'
'Oh, someone's coming over there.'
I pointed at a random spot where I claimed there was movement, abruptly changing the subject. Ethan narrowed his eyes at my blatantly obvious deflection, but I feigned ignorance. As we spent time together, I began to understand what Ethan meant by a "close sibling relationship."
Knowing the terrible rumors that followed Ethan, people frequently advised me to be careful around him. However, perhaps due to what had happened with his real brothers, Ethan tried to give me what he couldn't give them.
Seeing how Ethan treated me at the parties, everyone was thoroughly surprised. At first, Ethan had restrained his attitude a few times, but eventually deciding there was no need to hide it, he showed the demeanor of a "caring older brother" to some extent, even if it wasn't to the same degree as when we were alone. Adding to that was the casual, unguarded conversation between us. Thanks to this, it seemed the terrible rumors that followed him were fading ever so slightly.
After that, to get myself used to it, I frequently called him Oppa and made a conscious effort to drop the honorifics. As a result, I could finally act somewhat natural when it was just the two of us.
"Just in case, I'll assign a few more guards to accompany you when you go out."
"I'll just stay quietly in the mansion."
"That's even better."
I didn't have any reason to go out anyway. Ever since a bothersome incident at a salon hosted by a prestigious noble family—which I had attended twice—I hadn't wanted to go to any parties or salons, so this worked out perfectly. I leaned comfortably against the back of the sofa and sipped the bitter tea that would help wake me from my morning drowsiness.
"I'll be back in the afternoon. Let's have dinner together."
"Yeah. Be careful on your way back."
Ethan brushed my bangs aside and planted a kiss on my forehead. Then, he told me not to go outside. So, I remained seated on the sofa, waving my hand to see him off.
It was the start of an ordinary day, one I was now accustomed to.
At first, I had pushed myself hard to learn, but after a certain point, my progress slowed. Isabella said this was a natural phase. Just as a clean cloth becomes too heavy with water and needs to be wrung out midway, a person also needs to empty their mind occasionally. Because of this, my lesson hours had been cut in half recently. I readily accepted her suggestion to take a break, as continuing to study in this state wouldn't yield much result, and we would increase the lesson hours again once I regained my original condition. Thanks to that, my days became much more leisurely.
I was idly lounging in bed when I heard a knock on the door, and a maid entered.
"My lady, a letter has arrived."
"From whom?"
"From Count Belunita."
I bolted up from the bed and held out my hand. The maid respectfully handed me the letter. I went to my desk, slit the envelope open with a paper knife, and took out the letter. However, something fell out with a soft tap. It was a square bookmark that beautifully enclosed dried flower petals.
[I bought this because I thought you'd like it. May today be another good day.]
The message was brief, but it was more than enough for me. This was the kind of trivial correspondence Vincent and I shared. It was mostly about our daily lives, occasionally accompanied by small gifts like today. Last time, I had sent him a pair of fox fur gloves as a present.
Vincent was a busy man. Although he had received a firm promise from Ethan that he wouldn't be barred from the Christopher estate, that didn't mean I got to see him often. We mostly kept in touch through letters, only seeing each other when he managed to find time to visit the Christopher household just as I felt it had been a while since we last met, or when we crossed paths at a party. I was simply grateful that he faithfully sent me letters despite being so busy he barely had a moment to rest.
Vincent recently brought up the topic of our engagement again. He made it clear that he wouldn't delay it any longer now that I had made my social debut. In response, Ethan agreed and said he would make the preparations. It seemed they had bickered briefly over what preparations were even necessary, but when Ethan firmly stated he would draft the engagement contract this time, Vincent yielded a step. Instead, he urged that it not take too long.
Consequently, Ethan had been swamped lately, even preparing for my engagement. I told him it was just an engagement, not a wedding, and that it would be nice to keep it simple, but Ethan insisted that how others perceived us was important. I thought he simply wanted to give me an engagement ceremony that would remain a beautiful memory.
In the meantime, our relationship continued through letters.
I glanced around my room before spotting a tree outside the window and running over to it. I reached out toward a blossom that was on the verge of falling. Because of the distance, I had to stand on my tiptoes. Knowing I would write a reply immediately, the maid had been waiting, but she ran over in surprise. Thanks to her hastily grabbing me, I was able to pluck the flower safely.
Clutching the flower carefully, I sat down in the chair at my desk. Then, I pulled out a piece of paper, dipped my pen in ink, and began to write.
[May your day be happy as well. And I miss you terribly.]
I enclosed it along with the flower.
Time had already flown by. After my debut in high society, my life had been a hectic blur. But I had finally made it this far. There was still a long way to go, but at the very least, I felt like I was putting in the effort. There hadn't been any major accidents, and I was slowly finding a sense of stability. I would be fine if things just remained this peaceful from now on.
However, that wish was shattered to pieces by a love letter that arrived one day.
I pondered who could have sent me such a letter. But no one came to mind. I hadn't even received a letter like this from Vincent.
After that, two more letters arrived. The contents were similar. "I've fallen in love," "I miss you so much," "I can't forget you," and so on. Every single one of them was filled with rambling nonsense. Consequently, the letters were always thick.
Receiving letters meant for a beloved lover left me with a strange feeling. The first time, I was flustered; the second time, I grew wary; and by the third, I was angry. No matter how I looked at it, it felt like a prank. Otherwise, who would send me such letters?
I decided not to overthink these strange letters. I couldn't reply to them anyway. But as I stared at the fourth letter that had arrived, I found myself hesitating over whether to accept it or not. Seeing me hesitate to take the letter, which was unlike my usual self, the maid looked at me in confusion.
Just then, a hand reached out from behind me.
"What's arrived?"
"Uh..."
Before I knew it, Vincent had snatched the letter from my hand. Flustered, my eyes chased after the stolen letter. Vincent examined the unopened envelope before glancing at me. Realizing I was flustered, he tore it open without hesitation.
Vincent pulled out the thick letter from the envelope, unfolded it, and read it in silence. Just as the silence started to feel drawn out, he uttered a single word.
"Love?"
Somehow, it sounded like he found it an eyesore.