Chapter 108
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 108
"Yes, of course, Miss Liber. I've been well."
"Why are you smiling like that?"
"I just remembered we had this exact same exchange a week ago."
Had they? She couldn't recall, so it must not have been a particularly memorable encounter for her. To be fair, the Polignac Mansion had far more staff than Gloucester Castle ever did.
She only ever saw him when he came to help his father, the butler, so she must have simply offered the same polite greeting every time their paths crossed. Was that considered rude in Amiens? A prickle of self-consciousness made Vanessa wonder, but when she saw the man didn't seem offended at all, she offered an embarrassed smile.
"But was there something you needed?"
"Mr. Simon was called away on urgent business. I'll be driving you home today."
"You really don't have to. The tram stop is only a short walk away."
"My father—that is, Mr. Marshal..."
He stopped and smiled sheepishly, as if calling his own father by his last name felt entirely unnatural.
"...insisted that I take good care of you, Miss Liber. Madame also gave me permission to use the car."
"There's no need to go to such trouble on my account."
"That's a little hurtful, you know... Oh, right. Here. Mr. Balmain asked me to give you some apples from his recent harvest. I also have a plum pie Aunt Sophie baked in this basket, and some woolen gloves Miss Rose knitted herself. And..."
As it turned out, everything he was holding was meant for her. Vanessa's eyes widened as her hands were quickly piled high with gifts.
"All of this... for me?"
"Mr. Balmain said it's for helping him prune the trees last time, and Aunt Sophie said it's for writing that letter for her. Miss Rose wanted to thank you for lending her a good book, and Uncle Bouvier for teaching him Ingramian."
The man grinned at the sight of her, with only the crown of her head peeking out from behind the baskets, bags of apples, and woolen goods.
"I don't think you'll manage the tram like this."
"Oh, my..."
"Shall I take your bag first?"
Vanessa nodded, her cheeks flushing. She had only ever heard that the people of Amiens were insular and cold to outsiders, so she had never imagined receiving such a warm welcome. While she was thrilled by their bustling kindness, she also felt the slight weight of it.
After all, this goodwill wasn't earned solely by her own merit. If not for the Marchioness Polignac, she wouldn't have won over half of these people. Still, she couldn't deny that it warmed her to her core.
"Is that an engagement ring?" Jacques asked casually as he took the last bag from her left hand. Vanessa noticed the tips of his ears were red—a telltale sign of his nervousness. The young man shrugged with a grin.
"That's what everyone is saying. That Miss Liber has someone she's promised to marry."
Ever since her first day as a governess, she had worn a thin silver ring, following the Marchioness's advice. In a small town like Amiens, everyone knew everyone, and rumors about a single woman living alone were bound to spread.
Thanks to the ring, people believed that Miss Vanessa Liber had a fiancé. They assumed she was only temporarily separated from him due to her sudden, unavoidable return from Ingram.
"You know better than anyone that this is merely a temporary fix, my lady. If you plan to keep living here, the best thing to do is find someone to act as your husband. Before your belly gets too big."
If she followed Alice's other piece of advice and confessed her situation to this man to ask for his help... perhaps Mr. Jacques Marshal would readily agree.
But... she had no desire to get entangled in such affairs ever again. To get involved in a strange relationship and fall in love with a man she barely knew—once was more than enough. She now knew all too well how incredibly dangerous that was.
"...That's right."
She didn't want to deny that she had loved the Duke. Nor did she want to disrupt the peace she had fought so hard to find by harboring hatred for him. However, if she were to ask herself whether she could ever love someone that much again...
"There is someone."
Well, even if that man appeared before me right now, I doubt it would be possible.
* * *
Theodore leaned back into the sofa and tilted his stiff neck back. There were only thirty minutes until the afternoon session began at five, and he had to clear his head by any means necessary before then. Sheer willpower and medication could only hold him together for so long, and he was finally reaching his limit.
Every day, it felt as though the very tips of his nerves were being scraped raw by coarse sandpaper. This sensation of being slowly worn down, of eroding, was far from pleasant. A single, acute illness would have been preferable; at least then, he could have recovered.
If only he didn't feel like he was sinking into a bottomless abyss. If only he knew the reason, or if he could at least understand her.
"Don't regret this later, Theodore."
Edgar's advice was useless. To regret, one had to trace back to where things went wrong, but he still couldn't understand Vanessa.
No matter how much he thought about it, there were pieces of her that didn't align with the woman he thought he knew. It was like trying to read a report with heavy redactions scattered throughout. The most incomprehensible part was her motive. Vanessa had loved him even when she believed he was a poor naval sergeant. An ambitious woman would never have fallen for a mere sergeant, and a woman after a duke's wealth and status would never have walked away on her own.
That left only the engagement... But they had long agreed that marriage was a meaningless institution. Born an Ingramian noble, who didn't know the true meaning of an arranged marriage? It was never a union of two people, but of two families—nothing more than a political and economic alliance.
Even so, did that transaction hurt you so deeply? Enough to end our relationship so unilaterally?
"But I just... won't ask. I've decided not to."
He couldn't remember what her face had looked like when she said those words. He only recalled the anxiety that gripped him as he felt her damp cheeks and shallow breaths. He had been utterly at a loss, not knowing how to comfort her.
He had been plagued by that anxiety the entire time. The fear that she might vanish at any moment, that their relationship would ultimately run on parallel lines, never to meet.
That night, in particular, had been exceptionally strange. Their conversation had seemed to flow and yet not flow at all, and he had been too blinded by devotion to notice. In those moments when she spoke and acted as if she would never leave, she was maddeningly alluring. He had no choice but to believe her.
Because until that moment, she had never lied to him, and he knew that about her...
"Your Grace."
He removed the hand covering his eyes and opened them. It was his parliamentary aide. Seeing Theodore's seat empty, the aide had apparently been searching the nearby meeting rooms for him.
"The session is about to begin. You must return to your seat."
Theodore furrowed his brow and forced his sluggish body up. He pressed a hand to his face, waiting a moment for his vision to clear.
"Was that a gift from your fiancée?"
"What do you mean?"
"That chess piece you're always carrying."
"...Ah."
He couldn't answer right away. It wasn't an object with some grand story behind it; in fact, it wasn't even a gift Vanessa had left for him. As he remained silent, struggling for the right words, the aide spoke again.
"My apologies if it was a secret. It's just heartwarming to see. Belated as it is, congratulations on your engagement."
"..."
"After all, it's rare to see people unite purely out of love these days."
Theodore snapped his deep blue eyes open from behind his long fingers. Love, and engagement. For some reason, that perfectly ordinary congratulation sent a sudden chill through his heart. For the first time, he felt a sense of dissonance.
* * *
"Is that what the newspapers are saying?"
"Ah, yes. That's right. Miss Morton has personally given several interviews."
It had been agreed that the Morton family would handle the public stance and official announcements. He had never given much thought to the tone of the articles, assuming they would use the usual sugarcoating typical of arranged marriages—clichés like having known each other for a long time or being childhood friends.
Yet, for a parliamentary aide—a man well-accustomed to the political maneuvers of the nobility—to specifically mention love, the circumstances must have been extraordinary.
"To be honest, everyone assumed it was just an ordinary arranged marriage. A union between noble families is nothing new. However, Miss Morton's public behavior has been the very picture of a blushing bride in love."
The aide placed the publications from the past few weeks onto the study table. They were articles chronicling Hailey Morton's activities since the engagement. In the photographs, the woman indeed looked completely infatuated.
Theodore hadn't known because he hadn't paid attention. After checking the tone of the first few articles, he had told his staff there was no need to report on them further, thinking she would make a fuss for a while and then stop.
"..."
Surrounded by photographs of a blissfully smiling Hailey Morton, Theodore felt a chilling sensation wash over him. He could finally see how sharp the blade Morton wielded had grown in the shadow of his indifference. And now, it was painfully clear who that blade had pierced.