Coloring (8)
Coloring (8)
The next day at lunch, Serepina came to find me.
She looked exhausted.
Like someone who'd spent the night tossing and turning.
A clumsy bandage was wound around her finger.
The same one she'd caught in the door last night.
We climbed into the carriage without a word.
I took the window seat.
Serepina sat across from me.
The carriage jolted.
It began to move.
Familiar scenery drifted past the window.
I watched it all in silence.
It felt like watching a very old black-and-white film.
Faded, soundless footage.
Silence filled the carriage.
Only the steady clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels.
It was an awkward silence.
But neither of us moved to break it.
I stared out the window while she watched me.
I could feel her gaze even without turning my head.
How much time passed like that?
The carriage had left the academy grounds behind and was taking the road toward the manor.
"That..."
Serepina spoke first.
Her voice was small and trembling.
"That bakery... I wonder if it's still there."
Her eyes were fixed on some point outside.
A small, worn shop on the corner.
It was there, in Ravin's memories.
When we were young, we used to stop there sometimes.
The savory smell of fresh-baked bread, and sweet pastries dusted with powdered sugar.
Serepina always chose a cream-filled bread, and Ravin liked the chocolate chip cookies.
"Who knows. Maybe it's still there."
I answered indifferently.
As if it were someone else's story.
"...Do you remember that time you got mad because I ate all the chocolate cookies?"
She smiled faintly.
"I wasn't mad."
"You were. I thought they were mine at first, but you made a huge fuss and even stole my cream bread."
"I don't remember that."
But I remembered it clearly.
It might have been a happy memory for Ravin.
A warm, sunny afternoon, young Serepina and Ravin sitting together on the bench outside the shop.
"...I see."
There was a note of hurt in Serepina's voice.
Instead of answering, I turned back to the window.
The familiar roads slipped past.
Everything was just as I remembered.
But we were no longer part of that scenery.
And we never would be again.
"That's the road to the reservoir."
I murmured.
A narrow path leading into the woods came into view.
"Yeah. After it rained, there were always so many frogs."
Serepina brightened a little.
Her voice had more life than before.
It must have been a good memory.
"One time, you caught a frog and threw it at me.
I nearly fainted."
"...I did that?"
She laughed.
The laughter sounded hollow.
An echo ringing through an empty room.
I listened and tried to imagine it.
Young Ravin, throwing a frog and laughing obnoxiously.
The image didn't come easily.
After all, there were no photographs, and no memories of the young Ravin peering into a mirror.
The carriage slowed.
We were nearing the village entrance.
Lively chatter filled the air.
A fruit vendor, children performing tricks in the street.
It was all so vibrant.
"Look, that general store."
Serepina pointed out the window.
Her finger was still wrapped in the bandage.
It was coming loose, the clumsy wrapping starting to unravel.
I stared blankly at the finger, then our eyes met.
She stopped what she was saying, ducking her head.
As if to hide the bandaged hand beneath the other.
A short while later, the carriage passed through a massive iron gate.
A well-maintained garden stretched into view.
I stepped down from the carriage without a word.
A butler was waiting.
He spoke briskly.
"Lady Levina is waiting in the drawing room."
We followed him down the corridor.
Our footsteps echoed on the marble floor.
At the end of the hall, in front of a large door, he stopped.
"Lady Serepina, please wait a moment in the guest room.
The Count will be arriving shortly."
"...So I'm going alone?"
"The Heir Apparent wishes to speak with Young Master Ravin first."
Saying this to me, the butler opened the drawing room door.
Serepina nodded in silence.
A maid appeared to escort her, and she vanished down the opposite corridor.
Her retreating figure looked strangely small.
Levina stood by the window.
With her back turned, she stared out at the garden.
She seemed to be watching the roses.
"You're here."
She didn't turn around.
"Sit."
I sank into the sofa she'd indicated.
The plush leather enveloped me.
"Why did you want to see me alone first?"
"Because I have something to say to you."
Her answer was curt.
Only then did she face me.
With the light behind her, her expression was hard to read.
"A broken engagement is a matter between houses.
You have no part in this.
Just sit there and wait for everything to end.
Serepina is the same. Don't say a word. Just sit."
Her tone was as commanding as ever.
"Just do as you're told."
I didn't reply.
Levina tossed a few sheets of paper onto the table.
"These are the terms we'll be discussing.
There won't be any disadvantage for Serepina.
It's a mutual annulment.
You, on the other hand, will be stripped of everything.
You'll no longer be a member of this family.
As I told you before, this is the last day you'll bear the name Edelgard."
There was no emotion in her voice.
As though she were summarizing a stranger's life.
A knock sounded at the door.
It was the butler.
"The Count has arrived."
Levina nodded.
"Ah, yes. I'll be right there.
You heard him. Ravin, follow me."
As she led me down the hall, she added as an afterthought,
"Oh, and stay behind after the Count and Serepina leave. I still have things to say to you."
The door opened to reveal a middle-aged man rising from his seat.
Serepina's father, Count Belluz.
He bore no resemblance to his daughter.
Sharp eyes, a greedy-looking mouth.
Oily hair and slick skin.
He wasn't the kind of man I'd ever find agreeable.
He scanned the room once and gave Levina a slight nod.
"It's been a while, Heir Apparent of Edelgard."
"Indeed, it has."
They exchanged formal pleasantries.
Levina took the seat of honor, while Serepina sat beside her father on the sofa opposite me.
His gaze rested on me briefly before moving to Levina.
The discussion proceeded far more simply than I'd expected.
Using the documents Levina had prepared, the two adults reached an agreement without any notable objections.
While the actual parties involved never said a single word.
"Now, please sign.
Everything we've discussed has been recorded."
Levina said.
She took up her pen and signed her name at the bottom of the paper.
Her handwriting was elegant and assured.
The Count was next.
He accepted the pen from Levina with a satisfied smile.
He signed without any hesitation.
Finally, the paper was passed to Serepina.
Her hand trembled as she took it.
She hesitated for a long time.
"Serepina."
The Count spoke his daughter's name in a low voice.
It was a gentle pressure.
"...Father, I..."
Serepina tried to say something.
Her eyes wavered.
"Could we perhaps... postpone this annulment, just for a while...?"
"Lady Serepina."
This time it was Levina who cut her off.
Her voice was cold.
"This matter is already settled."
"It's just a moment of confusion, Heir Apparent.
The girl has suffered for a long time because of her relationship with Young Master Ravin."
The Count smiled.
He placed an arm around Serepina's shoulders.
At least outwardly, it looked like a father's affection.
"Serepina, you, your mother, and I have all had a dreadful time.
This is the path for you.
It might be your last chance, and our daughter wouldn't want to disappoint her family. Would you?"
At those words, Serepina's shoulders shrank.
She bowed her head.
She didn't say another word.
She simply picked up the pen and wrote her name.
The letters were violently unsteady.
The moment she set the pen down, our connection dissolved with that single sheet of paper.
It was that simple, that empty.
She stared at me vacantly.
I looked away, not eager to meet her eyes.
Then it was my turn.
I took the pen without a shred of hesitation.
I wrote my name beside Levina's.
"I'll have this sent to you directly later," she said to the Count.
She rose to see them out.
The Count and Serepina left the drawing room.
I didn't get up.
I just stared at the empty table.
Soon after, Levina returned.
She sat down across from me.
"You've lost everything."
"Thanks to you."
"You'll have dinner tonight with Father. Just the two of you.
There's no refusing, so be aware. Get some rest.
If you need anything, tell the servants."
How kind of her.
I wanted to say it out loud, but my mouth wouldn't move.
Feeling drained, I reached for a cigarette, remembered I'd left them in my room, and let out a sigh.