Chapter 40
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 40
Oscar was silent for a moment. I didn’t dare look up to see his expression. I assumed he was speechless with disbelief, but then he suddenly asked again.
“But why did you sprinkle salt?”
“Ah, that was to… ward off bad luck.”
“Bad luck?”
“Yes.”
“Did Abel buy flowers, too?”
“No. He helped me return them.”
“So what does that have to do with bad luck?”
“…”
Right. What did helping return flowers have to do with bad luck? The problem was the act of returning the flowers itself.
The journey to return the flowers to the dead was long and arduous, made all the more so by the company of a furious wolf.
The cemetery we arrived at was desolate and damp. Graves were packed so tightly together it was a wonder how anyone had been interred at all.
I bought more flowers to make up for the ones we were missing and placed them on each grave, taking a moment to at least sweep away the fallen leaves. I was in the middle of this when Abel approached. Then, as if to rob me, he snatched an armful of flowers.
The problem was what he did next.
“Did he throw the flowers on the gravestones?” Oscar asked, his voice laced with frustration before I could answer.
My eyes widened. I had just been wondering how to phrase that act delicately.
“Or did he throw them down and stomp on them?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“He… used his feet to brush the fallen leaves off the gravestones.”
“But why is that a problem?”
Why is that a problem?
“If I were a ghost, I think I’d haunt him…”
A low laugh enveloped my timid reply.
I desperately kept my gaze from drifting upward.
In the study, awash in a hazy golden light, the man leaning against the doorframe let out a low laugh that seemed to fill my hollowed-out mind and body. I tightened my grip on my clasped hands as he uncrossed his arms and swept his hair back. The laugh, as dry and cold as a winter wind, finally subsided.
“So, what does that have to do with the salt?”
“…They say salt purifies spirits.”
“It didn’t seem that way to me.”
I wanted to hide.
“Back home, we’d just grab a handful of salt from a jar and toss it. This was my first time using a grinder, so it was a little awkward, but salt is salt, so…”
Oscar laughed again, and once more, I couldn’t finish my sentence.
Yes, it must have looked strange. But enduring his laughter was better than being cursed at.
I’ll go back to my room when this laughter dies down.
I stood still, enduring the wind that seemed to swirl around me, when he suddenly moved. He had only taken a few steps closer, but it felt as if an invisible wave was pushing against my body.
“You asked how much five hundred million Kerte a week was, yet this is all you spend in a day? I heard you only use a few tens of thousands of Kerte.”
“…”
“Then did you buy that, too?”
“…Pardon?”
When I asked a beat too late, Oscar answered leisurely.
“Because I haven’t seen you in that before.”
“…”
Haven’t seen me in this before…?
I reflexively dropped my gaze to look at myself.
In that instant, time seemed to stretch like taffy.
I saw my brown hair cascading to my waist, the hem of my thin, white nightgown, and my bare feet in slippers beneath it.
The taffy-like stretch of time suddenly snapped.
“I, uh, well…”
Heat flared through me as if I’d been set on fire, and my words tangled in my throat.
My mind became a knotted mess of yarn, and the foreign language I had painstakingly learned vanished completely. I’m sorry, excuse me, good night. I couldn’t for the life of me remember how to say those words in the Norfolk Common Language.
A cold sweat broke out, and my mind spun as if the ground beneath my feet had given way.
What do I do?
To be seen like this by the household staff was bad enough, but to be caught wandering his personal space at night, dressed this way…
What if he thought I was not just a mysterious guest, but a bothersome one? What if he told me to get out of his sight?
Anxiety—the kind Oscar would have laughed at had he known—continued to swell inside Seo-ah.
And Oscar was watching her quietly.
His piercing blue eyes remained fixed, unwavering, on her face as it slowly turned crimson.
Seeing her utterly flustered expression brought that day back to him.
Why are you so flustered over something like this?
The day I first saw you, I saw much more than this.
He entertained the wicked thought of telling her, just to see her expression, but he was growing tired of her frozen, dazed state.
Oscar gestured with his chin toward the door behind him.
“You can go.”
Just as he thought he saw moisture gathering in her wide brown eyes, her head bowed. Then, as if she had been waiting for that exact permission, she moved, fleeing.
A small breeze stirred as she passed him.
The current of air held a warmth like that of a body, carrying a scent that was hard to define. It wasn't perfume, nor was it the smell of soap. It was a fragrance that could perhaps be described with words like undergrowth or verdure.
Oscar’s gaze followed the scent on the breeze. The moment the afterimage of the fleeing woman vanished around the corner, the pure scent wafted on the air before fading.
“…”
And that was what was strange.
The scent had surely faded.
It wasn't a perfume so strong it made his head spin, nor was it the smell of cigarettes that clung to the lungs and stung the nose with every breath. And yet, he kept sensing that faint fragrance, so subtle he couldn't be sure if it was real.
That scent, like formless moonlight, brought to mind the woman’s secret face, which he had watched while hidden in the moon’s shadow. And then… the white nightgown that seemed almost translucent, and her feet, just as white and small.
The curve of her shoulders was in strange harmony with the sharp line of her collarbones and the soft swell below them. The rumpled hem of her nightgown, like a distant coastline, and the slender legs visible beneath it. Her ankles, which were certainly no more than a handful, looked fragile, and her prominent ankle bones seemed to have a reddish hue.
Formless, yet real moonlight. If one were to shape it into a person…
The train of thought snapped.
A crack formed in Oscar's shadowed expression. A silent, vicious sneer twisted the corner of his lips.
He should have just drowned this troublesome night in alcohol. Why had he been so curious? Why was he clinging to an afterimage that was already gone?
Ah, am I sexually frustrated?
Is that it?
Even cursing himself felt like a waste of energy.
Shaking his head slightly, he turned, and his blue eyes grew deeper and darker than a mine shaft.
He craved a cigarette, one so acrid it would choke him.
A long, dark shadow wavered behind the Marquis of Reinhardt as he strode away toward his bedroom.
*
Seo-ah fled into her room and shut the door. Then, like prey hiding from a predator, she froze in place, unable to even breathe.
Nothing she saw registered. All her senses were focused on the presence that had been behind her.
Even after the heavy presence beyond the door faded, her feet refused to move. After huddling by the door for a long while, she finally crept to the bed. She should have eaten, if only out of respect for Lady Barbara’s kindness, but she couldn’t bring herself to.
Out of habit, she lay flat on her back and pulled the blanket up to her chest. Feeling it wasn’t enough, she covered herself up to her neck. But perhaps because the blanket was too light, her heart felt strangely buoyant. So she curled up on her side like a shrimp on a hot pan. It was a little better, but the feeling was fleeting; it still wasn’t enough.
She swept a hand over her chest, then pressed down hard. For some reason, it felt a little more grounded, but the pressure of her hand wasn't enough. Finally, she rolled onto her stomach, pulling the blanket over the back of her neck.
Hiding her body completely, with only her eyes peeking out, she tried to catch her breath.
She wished she could fall asleep as if fainting. She wanted to escape, at least into sleep, but cruelly, a low, cool laugh echoed in her ears.
“Because I haven’t seen you in that before.”
The memory of that deep, low laugh made her body curl in on itself instinctively.
She had waited for him to return and was relieved when he did. But he was someone she did not want to face.
Someone she wanted to keep at a very specific distance, just like when she had watched him, hidden, through the train window.
One day she would have to confess her sin to him, and the thought of that day already made her feel suffocated.
Seo-ah squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in the bed.
How wonderful it would be if she could rewind this entire day.
No, if there was a god who could turn back time, she wanted to ask him to turn it back to before she was born. If this useless body and soul could be of any use for that purpose, she felt she could gather every last speck of herself and offer it up.
It was difficult. How could taking a single step be so difficult?
Life had never been easy for a single moment, but life in this strange world felt like even taking a single breath was a struggle.
In the end, the night bled into a sleepless dawn.
For someone whose every waking moment was a struggle, the peace of sleep was a desperate need. She wanted to somehow drag back the sleep that had fled so far away, but even when she closed her eyes, everything was a white blur. The low, cool laughter beat against her eardrums no matter how she covered her ears. It felt like it wasn't coming from outside, but from within.
The sleepless night was cruelly long, and yet, short.
She watched as her surroundings brightened to a pale gray, then closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, a sliver of golden sunlight piercing the narrow gap between the curtains stabbed sharply at her eyes. As she squinted and sat up, someone knocked on the door.