Chapter 81
The first thing he did was fling open the window. The room visible beyond the window was still lit. Killian, who had been habitually searching his coat for a cigarette, lowered his hand. It was time for him to quit again. He was staring fixedly at the curtained window when, as if she had read his mind, Rowena drew back the curtains.
The moment he saw her in her slip, both arms resting on the windowsill, hot blood coursed through his weary body and his heart began to beat faster.
Even from a distance, she came clearly into his eyes. Her blond hair shimmered mysteriously beneath the moonlight, her green eyes dreamy; her skin was so pale it seemed almost transparent, and her features were graceful and beautiful.
Killian thought of the times he had stood before her empty grave, endlessly imagining this sight. He thought of the time he had knelt there, stroking the gravestone, then opened the lid of the stone tomb and lain down inside it. The underground mausoleum had been terribly cold and bleak. It felt as though the chill that had seeped in deep enough to freeze even his bones still remained.
In perfect solitude, without so much as an ant crawling nearby, he had lain there for hours with his eyes closed.
In that span of time that felt like eternity, realization came in an instant.
—I-I’m sorry…! I mistook the seat…
—Your Highness.
—Your Highness. Look at this. Isn’t it so pretty?
—Killian…
Every moment, every moment she had been by his side, surged over him like waves and swallowed him. At the same time, he became as powerless as if he had inhaled poison. In the helplessness that left him unable to move even a fingertip, the portrait set up across from him spoke.
—Honestly, you simply wanted to cast me aside, didn’t you?
No. He had to say it, but his lips would not move. Rowena, smiling brightly, whispered.
—Be honest, Your Highness. You cast me aside because you happened to need an excuse. You knew there couldn’t possibly have been another man in my life. While you were thinking of proposing to me, my status must have weighed on you too.
That wasn’t it. He strained with all his might, as if wringing the words from his throat, but no sound came out.
Perhaps she was right. Half right and half wrong. Her status had not been the problem. He knew he would run into countless obstacles and objections, yet she was the woman he had resolved to keep beside him despite them all.
As if she had read his thoughts, Rowena in the portrait hardened her mouth and drove in the wedge.
—Or were you, deep down, afraid?
—…
—You didn’t want to give me any more of your heart, did you? Were you so afraid of being swayed by me, of giving me your whole love and letting me hold your heart in my hand? So afraid that, rather than entrust someone with the power over your life and death, you chose to use a convenient excuse to cast me away?
It felt as though a bullet had passed through his heart and pierced out his back. Rowena, frowning as if in pity, added sadly.
—Wealth, power, honor. Your Highness has everything, yet you possess nothing. No family, no one you love, no friends. There is no one beside you, Your Highness.
—…
—You poor man.
Her voice was growing smaller and smaller. Killian forced himself upright with all his strength and glared at the portrait like a madman.
—If you resent me, then take me with you.
There was no answer. Rowena, fixed forever in a single scene, smiling at him, looked freer and more at peace than ever.
—Take me and torture me, trample me, I don’t care. Do anything you want, just take me.
He had hoped a ghost might appear. He had hoped it might strangle him. But that was the end of it. The portrait never spoke to him again, and whenever he went far away, he always carried the portrait with him as though it were her gravestone.
“…Rowena.”
He watched her from afar as if bewitched. Rowena, who had been gazing into the distance with eyes lost in thought, turned away. Only after he confirmed that she had closed the curtains again and that her room had gone dark did Killian also close his own curtains.
The long night came again.
* * *
Contrary to her fear that he might come to her at any moment, Rowena greeted a peaceful morning the next day.
Since she had decided to continue Cecilia’s lessons, that was the only thing on her schedule for the day. But Cecilia could not concentrate on the lesson the whole time. Compared to just a short while ago, it was like heaven and earth.
“We’ll stop here for today.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“You worked hard too.”
As soon as the book was closed, Cecilia stood up, turned sharply, and left the study. She avoided her so quickly that Rowena did not even have a chance to speak to her and ask what misunderstanding she was laboring under.
In the end, Rowena, left alone, organized the books and rose. She approached the window to close the open pane, and noticed people bustling about in the courtyard.
“That goes over here! Plant them in a neat row too!”
A gardener whose face she had seen a few times was instructing an apprentice gardener who was transplanting flowers. Pansies, daffodils, red tulips, hyacinths, and all sorts of colorful flowers were being planted one by one. They were all flowers she liked.
Feeling pleased, Rowena went out into the courtyard. When she looked around, the gardener removed his hat and approached.
“Good day, madam.”
“Ah. Hello. You look busy.”
“It’s work, after all. We’re planning to make a small flower garden.”
“A flower garden?”
“Yes. I was just about to ask you, so thank you for coming out. Do you like it?”
“These flowers?”
“Yes.”
It sounded as though it had to be to her liking. Rowena tilted her head at the sight of him anxiously waiting for her answer, even though she was merely a guest.
“I do like them, but is that important?”
“What a relief!”
The gardener stroked his chest and let out a sigh of relief. Before Rowena could even widen her eyes, the gardener smiled brightly and continued.
“They’re all for you, madam.”
“Pardon?”
“Hey! You there! I told you not to put it there!”
Before she could ask what he meant by that sudden statement, the gardener turned toward another direction and moved away. Rowena watched the flowers being planted one by one in harmony and enjoyed a brief rest, then unconsciously looked up at the annex. It was so quiet and devoid of human presence that she wondered if anyone was staying there at all.
“…What on earth is he thinking?”
Perhaps he simply wanted her within sight, the way one might place a doll in a display case. If that was the case, it would be better. She did not want to face him any more or exchange words with him. Whenever she faced him, she felt utterly exhausted, as if all her strength had been spent and all her energy had drained away.
With a troubled expression, she returned to the mansion and opened the door to her bedroom. On the bed lay a box she had never seen before. When she untied the luxuriously bound ribbon, she found a dress and shoes inside. She knew who the gift was from the moment she picked up the card placed atop it.
Let us have dinner together tonight.
The neat yet elegant cursive belonged to none other than Killian. It felt as though she had been ambushed unexpectedly while her guard was down. As she stood frozen, the silence broke, and the voices of the maids outside the door pierced Rowena’s ears.
“You know, doesn’t the young lady seem really gloomy these days?”
“Honestly, are you asking because you don’t know? She had an unrequited love for the guest in the annex. Anyone could see she was a girl in love for the first time. But then the guest in this room arrived.”
“Ah… so that’s why she’s depressed.”
“It’s such a pity. A person’s heart doesn’t go the way one wants.”
The moment she heard the conversation, a warning bell rang in her head and her question was answered. Come to think of it, Cecilia was blond too. Depending on how one looked at her, did she not resemble Killian’s dead fiancée, the one to whom he had been betrothed before birth? If she could make him take an interest in her… perhaps this might be a clever solution. A good solution for Cecilia, and for herself as well.
Having made up her mind, Rowena rose from her seat.
“Excuse me.”
“Oh my!”
When she flung the door open, the two maids cleaning the corridor started in surprise and faced her. As they exchanged glances, frightened that she might have overheard their conversation, Rowena smiled at them.
“Do you happen to know where Miss Cecilia is?”
“Th-the young lady?”
When the coachman cracked his whip, the four-wheeled carriage carrying the three of them quickly left the Ludville estate. Cecilia, dressed to the nines, pressed down on her pounding heart. Seeing how excited she looked, Rowena smiled.
“I-Is it really all right for me to be here? I’m not intruding, am I…?”
“Of course. I’m grateful you agreed to come. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”
The final question was directed at Killian, who sat across from her looking out the window.
Rowena met Killian’s cold gaze head-on when he turned his head. Had she not done as he wanted? She had accepted his invitation and put on the dress and shoes he had sent.
However, the card had not said anything about the two of them dining alone, so there was no great problem with Cecilia joining them. Their taut gazes met in midair. As the silence stretched on and Rowena swallowed dryly, Killian unexpectedly took one step back without resistance.
“Of course.”
It was an acceptance so compliant that it left her deflated, unlike the confrontation she had expected. When Rowena, rather flustered instead, averted her eyes, Killian quietly curved his lips.
He had known she would not obediently accept his invitation, but this was a cuter move than he had expected. It surprised him that she was a woman capable of such mischief.
“Do you… have any foods you like?”
Cecilia, who had been reading the awkward atmosphere, cautiously spoke to Killian.
“I like oysters.”
“…”
At the pointed answer, Rowena tore her gaze from the window and looked at him. Killian smiled at Cecilia and added,
“I especially like eating oysters by the sea.”
“Oh my! I’ve never eaten them that way. They must be truly delicious.”
“Of course. They’re even better on a fine day.”
It was a remark that unmistakably brought to mind the meal on Lofs Island. Rowena, displeased by the way he dug up a past she had tried hard to forget, pressed her lips together. Killian, leisurely turning his head toward her, asked,
“And you? What do you like?”
“Everything except oysters.”
“Ah.”
With an expression that said he understood, Killian rested his chin by the window and fixed his gaze on her lips. He recalled the time he had personally prepared oysters and placed them against her lips. The way she had parted those full lips and eaten the oysters he gave her.
“I like cake. Fruit too.”
Just as the suggestive atmosphere made the carriage feel hot inside, Cecilia cut in and began to chatter.