# 26
26. Tea Time with the Viscount (8)
When I suddenly pulled my hand away, Vincent furrowed his brow.
"What's wrong?"
"……."
"Hey."
When I still didn't answer, Vincent reached his hand out. It was a habit of his since he couldn't see. Surveying his surroundings by touch. Even now, his hand reached into empty air, stirring about searching for something to grab.
See, he can't see.
Only then did I finally let out a breath of relief.
"Ah, no. It's nothing."
I shook my head and reined in my tense mind. Then I casually waved my hand in front of his eyes. His unfocused pupils didn't even flicker beneath his eyelids.
I had thought needlessly. To think he seemed like he could see.
"But why did you suddenly go quiet."
"Just…… I was checking if your face was angled properly. Ah, this is good right now. I think you should look this way."
I went back and sat on the opposite sofa as I was. I rubbed at my chest where my heart had tightened then loosened. Then I turned my head at a stinging sensation—Ethan was staring holes into me. When I looked back at him as if to ask what, he smiled mischievously.
"Vincent has gotten a bit more lively, hasn't he?"
"What are you suddenly talking about? More importantly, how is it?"
"Just right. Ah, but don't fumble around with your hands feeling the surroundings like just now. Endure it. It'll look strange."
"Mm."
He looked down at his hand. That was a habit from when he could see. Then he lowered his hand and felt along the table before finding and lifting the teacup. It seemed like he was practicing whether the motion would look unnatural from his current posture.
"Relax your expression. And your posture is too stiff. Try to be comfortable."
"How."
"Just sit like you normally would."
He fell silent for a moment, seeming to ponder what sitting normally even meant. Then Ethan chimed in, suggesting he cross his legs at least. Vincent hesitated before crossing his legs. When Ethan commented that he was still too rigid, this time he leaned his back against the sofa backrest. Only then was a somewhat relaxed posture completed.
"Then Vincent. Shall we try having a brief conversation with the lady-in-waiting now?"
"What?"
"Pardon?"
Vincent raised his head. I looked back at Ethan.
"Conversation needs practice too."
As he said that, Ethan patted my shoulder and looked at Vincent.
"Now, Vincent. Think of the lady-in-waiting as Violet and try having a conversation."
"What conversation."
"Anything. Even talk about the weather."
Ethan sat beside me. At the abruptly demanded task, Vincent scowled. I was also flustered, looking back and forth between the two.
"Or should the lady-in-waiting start first? Now, lady-in-waiting."
"Me? Pardon?"
"Relax. Think of yourself as Violet and have a conversation with Vincent."
But what should I even say first?
I rolled the thought around in my head. Beside me, Ethan repeated 'think of her as Violet.' What was Lady Violet like. What kind of person was Lady Violet. I imagined her sugar-white, pretty face and opened and closed my lips.
"Wh-what's been going on. Why haven't you seen me."
"Violet wouldn't say it like that."
Too stiff. The criticism came immediately. Flustered, I cleared my throat.
"Vincent."
"Awkward."
"V-Vincent."
"Don't stutter."
"Vincenttt—"
"What. Why are you being like this."
When I imitated a honey-sweet, cute voice, Vincent scrunched up his face. It was the face of someone who'd heard something they shouldn't have.
"Reeeally. What's been going on, hm?"
"Creepy. Don't do that."
He recoiled in genuine horror and set down the cup as if throwing it. It might break at this rate. This time I scowled and looked down at the cup. It shook a bit, but thankfully the cup was unharmed.
I placed it back in its designated spot and sat down again.
"Please think of me as Lady Violet."
"How am I supposed to think of you when you're being weird."
"Is it weird?"
"It's weird."
So cold.
"Still, think of me that way. If you practice now, you'll be able to treat Lady Violet naturally when you meet her later. Like when I read books to you—imagine, imagine."
"……."
Come on, quickly. I shamelessly urged Vincent. He let out a sigh, then parted his lips.
"It's been a while."
He calmly opened the conversation. I answered right away.
"Vincenttt. Reeeally."
"……Rather do it stiffly. I feel like I'll throw up."
"I really want to know why you haven't seen me. Do you know how worried I was? What happened during that time? Hm?"
When I immediately corrected my tone and spoke stiffly, he caught his breath again. I could hear him muttering 'Violet, Violet' under his breath—he seemed to be hypnotizing himself. Is it that bad? As I blamed my abysmal acting skills, Ethan was beside me clutching his stomach, on the verge of choking. His smiling face was close to tears.
"I'm sorry. As you know, I wasn't quite myself. There were dangerous incidents too. So…… I was on edge. I didn't meet you because I was afraid I'd say something harsh in that state. I was also worried you'd be in danger since I'm not in a safe situation yet. I intended to meet you when my safety was guaranteed and my condition improved."
"Then why didn't you reply to my letters. If it was because I'd be in danger, you could have at least replied to my letters."
"I didn't think that far. I'm sorry."
"I was worried about you. But no reply, and when I came to see you, you wouldn't even show your face. I worried that maybe you'd come to hate me."
"That could never happen."
Unexpectedly, the conversation flowed smoothly. I threw out questions Violet would ask, and he answered each one readily. Whether he'd thought about them beforehand or they were truly improvised, I couldn't tell, but the conversation was smooth.
"I'm sorry for worrying you. It really wasn't because I dislike you. Don't misunderstand."
"Are you okay now?"
"Yeah, much better. The reason I said I'm still recuperating was partly to cool my head too, so don't worry too much."
Was this enough? The conversation went quite well, and throughout it, he faced forward and didn't move, just as I'd taught him. Thinking our gazes met, it definitely didn't feel strange.
Wondering if I'd missed anything, I mentally organized the things Violet would say once more. Then I realized I'd left out the most important words.
She would definitely say this. Holding the words she would earnestly spill in my mouth, I cleared my throat again. Ahem.
"I, I mi—"
"Mi?"
"I mi, mi, mi……."
Repeating 'I mi, mi, mi, mi…' I couldn't easily finish the sentence. Vincent tilted his head. I needlessly licked my dry lips several times. Saying it myself suddenly felt too embarrassing. The words felt unfamiliar even resting in my mouth. So I hesitated, squeezed my eyes shut, and spat out the most important words.
"I missed you!"
"……."
Even after finally crying it out, I couldn't open my eyes for a long while. I couldn't bear to look at Vincent. My face felt hot, so I needlessly rubbed my cheek. Then when I peeked my eyes open, Vincent had a blank expression. His eyes blinked a few times in surprise before stretching long.
"Really?"
A gentle voice flowed. It wasn't a cracked, hoarse voice, nor a voice sharpened with anger. A voice with ease, slightly mischievous. He lowered his gaze slightly, then raised it again. His slightly raised mouth corners formed a wonderful smile.
He was smiling.
Eyes filled with affection sparkled with vivid light.
"Thank you."
The sweet voice held consideration. The warmly smiling face was unfamiliar, but I couldn't tear my gaze away. It was the face I'd seen when having tea with him in the garden. No—a face with even more affection than then…… a tender face.
I'm not the one who should see that face. It's not directed at me. I buried my head. I couldn't meet his eyes.
"I'm really fine. So……."
He said something more, but I didn't hear it. I clenched my fists and caught my breath. Was it because I saw something unfamiliar? My heart pounded. As if I'd peeped at a secret I absolutely shouldn't have seen.
Thump, thump, thump.
Strange.
Too strange.
"……lady, ……ma'am, ……lady-in-waiting!"
"Yes!"
I'd been clutching my chest when I suddenly snapped my head up. Ethan was looking at me with wide eyes.
"Why are you so startled? I think that's enough."
"Ah, aah. Yes. I think that's enough now."
You did well. I uttered a light remark and rose from the sofa. It's a relief I have bangs at times like this. My reddened face won't be visible.
"Keep the conversation as short as possible. If you drag it out, she'll notice something's off. Make some excuse about being tired and end the conversation first. Violet would never end it first."
"Alright."
"Good. Then the posture is roughly set, and the conversation seems about fine too. The next part is also important. First, stand up."
Vincent placed his hand on the sofa armrest and slowly stood.
"Then you just leave."
"How."
"I'll tell you the flow of movement."
Ethan rearranged the furniture so it wouldn't be difficult for him to pass through. He pushed the sofas on either side of the table further back to widen the passage. Especially the sofa to Vincent's right, he created an even wider gap between it and the table. After that, Ethan surveyed the reception room, then beckoned to me.
"Then, lady-in-waiting. You need to show Vincent how to leave."
"Me?"
"Together."
Ethan smiled brightly. I struggled to hold onto my mind that kept wandering off course, and approached Vincent. Vincent stood there vacantly. The face from just now was like an illusion. But that image still floated around in my head. I shook my head, desperately shaking off the memory.
"Master, I'll take your hand and guide you."
Then I hesitated right in front of his hand. I was reluctant to hold it. Why am I like this. It was fine until just now. I needlessly bent and straightened my fingers repeatedly before lightly grasping his fingertips.
"Now, please come out this way."
"Why are you being like this."
"Pardon?"
When I asked back, he furrowed his brow. Then he suddenly grabbed my hand.
"Don't hold me half-heartedly. If I fall, you have to catch me."
"M-me?"
"What?"
"No, never mind. You're right. I'll do that."
Now, I'll hold on tight, I said, while still squirming to escape from his hand. Then he gripped even tighter. I was flustered by the crushing grip as if trying to keep me from slipping away. He feigned ignorance and urged me to guide him quickly.
In the end, dragged into letting him hold my hand by force, I led him.
"Y-you need to memorize the path well."
"I will."
I don't know why my chest keeps tickling.