Night of Eden 42

Chapter 42

***

"Are you really going straight to the port, without stopping at Belvida?"

"Uh, no time for that. I don't know when the ship will arrive, so I’d better be there."

Noah replied, fixing his hat.

"Then when will you be back in Belvida?"

"Well, that depends on when the ship arrives... but I'm afraid it'll be quite a while, and I’ll have to stop in Dorset before then."

"Then... I shall not see you again for a long time..."

Noah paused. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Are you sad that you won't see me?"

"...Huh?"

"You're disappointed. Well, of course you are."

Dana's eyes narrowed. Noah’s handsome lips curled under the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe next time we can go to your grandfather's grave together. We can meet my sister while we're there."

"Huh?"

He climbed straight into the carriage and grabbed the reins.

"Then I'm off."

Before Dana could reply, the carriage pulled away.

After a while of listening to the rattling wheels, Dana snapped out of it.

In the distance, a bell chimed from the clock tower.

Dana clutched her books to her chest and trudged toward the main building.

She had just reached the entrance when she realized another strange fact.

This was usually the busiest and most noisy time of the day around the cottage, and yet she hadn't seen a single person all the way here.

'Where is everyone... Where are they?’

Her darting eyes caught a glimpse of a single figure. It was the freckled maid who'd been gushing in praise of Theodore. She rushed forward and paused when she recognized Dana.

"...You haven't heard yet, have you?"

She said nervously.

"We must all go to the parlor, now."

When Dana arrived in the parlor, panting, the first person she saw was Nordstrom.

He was looking down at his pocket watch when he felt the heat and looked up at Dana.

Nordstrom walked straight to the window by the potted plants and leaned in. Through the leaves of the plant, she saw a strange woman.

"That's her." Nordstrom announced.

The woman’s graceful, upturned, brown head whirled halfway around. Clear peridot-colored eyes locked onto Dana’s.

It was a face that bore an uncanny resemblance to the entity that had haunted her relentlessly for the past month.

A shiver ran down Dana's spine.

"Come here."

Isabella glanced across at her. The voice, as cold as a frozen river, made Dana tense. As she lifted one trembling foot off the floor, she realized she hadn't even said her greetings.

"Hello."

Dana bent her knees and walked to the chair the duchess indicated.

Her wobbly pupils instinctively searched for Celeste.

Judging by the tea tray, she must have served the Duchess tea, so why wasn’t she here?

A cold voice sounded as if it could see right through her.

"Celeste is not here. I have just sent her back to Peron."

A smooth, fair face, beyond recognition, stared back at Dana.

Sharp, piercing eyes, like a discriminator, scanned Dana from head to toe. A shiver ran down her spine as if she were standing before an enemy army, bare-chested.

***

One by one, two by two, Kreutz’s guests began to leave.

Only after the castle had seen off the last of Lowengrin's carriages could it return to its normal routine.

The same was true for Tilly. He finished tidying up his room and made his way to the Master with a sense of relief. His steps were light, excited by the prospect of another hunt.

"Earl Lowengrin's attendant told me that if we go deep enough into the valley, we can hunt buntings," he said, "where the flowering grasses are in full bloom."

He brushed off his haphazardly draped jacket, picking at the dirt that wouldn't fall off with his hands.

"They say they catch bunting (birds) there at night."

As he dusted, he noticed that one sleeve button was hanging down. The heir to the Macmilan name would never wear a button that came undone, so Tilly pulled a ring out of a drawer.

"They say night hunting is...a lot of fun."

The darkness was making him feel a little dazed. Tilly turned on the desk lamp and took the needle to the thread once more. After a few moments, he threaded the needle and began sewing in earnest.

"When I asked him how he hunted in the dark, do you know what he said? Well, he said, you hit the birds and catch them with a stick 'this good'."

Tilly stretched his arms out wide to the side, then said excitedly.

"You take a torch or something, and they're blinded for a moment, just like people, and then you hit them with a stick."

He paused in his enthusiasm. His tilted head swiveled halfway around to look at the Master.

Theodore was lying at an angle on the couch. His back leaned against the armrests, and the way he blinked and stared into space showed that he hadn't been paying attention to the conversation so far.

A loose tie caught Tilly's eye. So did the shirt and pants, crumpled in a mess against the couch...

As his gaze carefully scanned his master's form, he caught a glint of something shiny.

It was a bird-shaped ornament that the Earl of Lowengrin had given Theodore as an engagement gift.

Tilly stared uneasily at the expensive ornament as it dangled from his fingertips.

"There...."

The words leaked out slowly and were swallowed in one dry gulp.

Theodore’s cold eyes stared at the two delicately crafted bird figurines. His grip was as cold as his gaze.

"I'll be over there, then, if you need anything, just call."

Tilly spoke loudly on purpose, then walked toward the next room. Just before the door closed behind him, the crystal birds came into view again.

The delicate surface of the glass glinted sharply in the lamp's light.

***

"It's called a lucky duck, and among the natives of the Second Colony, it symbolizes the affection between a husband and wife. May your path together be filled with faith and affection."

Theodore's hands tightened as he clutched the bird model.

He'd heard similar words at least two or three times a day since the engagement was finalized, and he'd always responded to the ritualized greeting with a smile, never once feeling negative.

For him, marriage was a responsibility he gladly accepted, a sacred duty as the heir to the family name.

Young Lady Hastings was given a passing grade by the elders of the house, and no flaws were found that would cause them to complain.

Though he had never spoken to her alone except at their engagement, he had no doubt that she had received the perfect education for the next Duchess.

She wasn't ugly that would make him cringe, and he didn't mind the envious glances he received from men whenever they walked side by side at events and gatherings.

 As the heir to the family, a spouse's appearance was a pretty important consideration. His mother, more than anyone else, was very particular about it, and her eyes twinkled whenever she talked about the second generation.

That's the way marriage was supposed to be.

You have to put aside your lower desires, such as lust or greed for money, so that you can get the right partner.

His parents had done it, his grandparents had done it, his in-laws had done it.

But now, the mere mention of the word 'betrothal' made his chest tighten. It was hard to breathe, like he was being crushed by a massive rock wall.

Theodore narrowed his eyes and slowly pushed himself to his feet. He loosened his tie and threw open the window.

A chilly breeze brushed across his hot cheeks.

His shaky hand reached for a cigarette. He had barely reached for the lighter when something fell from the sky. It was rain.

Drop, drop, the intermittent raindrops hitting hai hand quickly grew to dozens.

Down below, he could see the maids running frantically to escape the rain.

They were all dressed alike and had similar faces, but Theodore pinpointed a maid with light brown hair.

Was she the only one?

Nina Matheson, he even memorized the maid's name. Just because they looked alike.

He couldn't stand the sight of that light brown hair bouncing around.

What had happened to her?

He thought she was just a tiny pebble in the ground, but it turned out to be a giant rock wall, and he felt as helpless as if he were facing a mountain.

His head, his heart, his stomach, felt like it was going to burst with a strange greed he could only call craving.

Rainwater trickled down the backs of his hands. The ends of his sleeves were damp and stained.

The pounding rain reminded him of the unpleasant scene.

"I'd rather be accused of being a thief... I'd rather... A ring, a teacup... Whatever you want...."

"I would... I can marry anytime, without anyone's permission... Not just you... or anyone else... or anything like that... You can't stop me... Ever."

Since she promised to marry the man, whoever he was, she must have slept with him, right?

A sickening feeling of unpleasantness, like being covered in filth, ran down his spine.

"In some cases, they've allowed themselves to be ravished by older men, like the gardener or the butler, and become unwillingly pregnant.”

“It's not uncommon among maids in rural areas like Belvida and Shore. How lonely must they be?”

'What if she really is pregnant... What should I do?’

'Oh, throw it away.’

A cold voice chastised his shallow self.

'It's just a toy, something I played with for fun. If it's broken and dirty, just throw it away.’

She can marry some nameless peasants or not, have a bunch of kids and live in poverty or not, turn around at night and long for Edwin Hastings...

"Damn it."

Theodore let out a gasp of air without realizing it. The tip of his cigarette, which had not yet been lit, was charred black.

Through the hazy smoke, a pure and young-looking face with not yet lost its baby fat emerged.

The large, clear eyes beneath the long, curled eyelashes were the color of the sky. Not a cloudless, pure blue sky, but a pale gray like the sky just before rain on a windy hill...

A strange emotion, different from anger, surged into Theodore's chest.

His impatient hand flattened the unlit cigarette.

Tap.

A knock on the door broke his troubled thoughts.

“Your Excellency, someone has come from Shore. Celeste sent him.”

The door opened and the butler strode in, panting. The man behind him pulled off his hood and said something, but none of it reached Theodore's ears.

Theodore stalked over and snatched up the letter. He didn't realize his hands were shaking as he tore open the envelope with his knife and unfolded the contents, nor did he notice the butler's surprised face as he watched.

The letter was only a few lines long, but it was satisfying enough to put to sleep all that had been boiling in his chest.

Theodore crumpled up the letter. His impatient legs headed toward the next room. As he opened the door, Tilly, who had just sat down on the bed, jumped up.

"Prepare the carriage. We're going to the Shore."

"Now?"

“Now.”

As he answered, the rain pounded down outside the window.

Tilly couldn't even close his mouth at the sudden outrageous order.

***

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