Chapter 89
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 89
It was one of those perfect days.
The moment I opened my eyes that morning, the sunlight was so brilliant it nearly blinded me.
A gentle breeze drifted through the window, causing the chiffon curtains to flutter, and as the light filtered between them, it shattered like jewels in the air, scattering and gleaming.
I drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling that profound warmth settle within me.
A serene joy washed over my entire being—the kind that whispered this day could not possibly be more perfect.
Grace lingered in bed like one reluctant to rise, rubbing her forehead and cheek against the pillow, watching through half-lidded eyes as the veil of sunlight danced and sparkled above her.
Why did my heart feel so full?
I had merely awakened, merely opened my eyes, yet it felt as though I had recovered something long lost.
She smiled softly and pressed her face against the pillow once more.
A sharp sting ran across the bridge of her nose, and warmth gathered at the corners of her eyes.
I was joyful, my heart was overflowing, I was happy—yet I could not understand why tears suddenly began to fall.
It was as she buried her face in the pillow that silent sobs escaped her.
Someone's gentle hand caressed her hair.
Once, twice, three times.
When Grace's weeping ceased beneath that tender, affectionate touch,
'...my beautiful daughter.'
A voice infinitely dear whispered against Grace's ear.
'When did you grow so much?'
Mother...
'You've suffered so much, haven't you? You've endured so much.'
Grace slowly lifted her head to look at her mother.
With the sunlight behind her, her mother's face remained obscured.
Only the gentle curve of her smiling lips was visible.
Her hand continued to caress Grace's hair with infinite tenderness.
'I'm sorry I couldn't care for you more. But...Mother will protect you until the very end.'
Mother slowly lowered her head and placed a brief kiss upon Grace's forehead.
Though I knew this was a dream, I could feel a faint warmth lingering where Mother's lips had touched my forehead.
'...Always be happy, my daughter.'
Mother. Mother...
Mother's smile grew hazy. Grace strained her eyes, desperately trying to hold onto her mother's fading face.
She had departed so long ago that her mother's features had grown dim in memory, yet I longed so desperately to see her face once more.
No matter how hard I tried to recall her, her face remained as erased as if by an eraser.
Her scent, her habits, her laughter, her voice—all came flooding back, yet why did my beloved mother's face remain so indistinct?
Grace suddenly grasped at her mother's receding sleeve.
Her mother turned back to look at her.
She reached out and gently stroked Grace's cheek.
'It's alright.'
With those whispered words, her mother's face became visible as she departed.
Grace jolted upright in surprise.
* * *
"Miss, are you alright?"
"...Hm?"
"No, it's just that you seem rather dazed. Did you wake up too early, perhaps?"
"Oh, yes. I suppose so. I can't seem to shake off the drowsiness."
"Oh, Miss—are you nervous too? My heart feels like it's about to burst, and my mouth has gone completely dry!"
"Julie, you're going to make me nervous too with all your fussing. Stop trembling and head downstairs. We sent all the luggage to the Black Family Estate already, didn't we?"
"We sent it all yesterday, Head Maid. You were there with me! Honestly, you're nervous too right now, aren't you?"
"Of course I am. How could I not be? I've never prepared for a wedding before either."
Elia spoke with a wry smile and tugged at Julie's nose.
Julie let out a yelp and whined in protest.
"Ow! You'll smudge my makeup!"
"You barely applied any in the first place."
Today, both Julie and Elia had shed their maid uniforms and dressed in beautiful gowns.
The dress that matched the bouquet Grace held was a gift from her.
She watched Julie and Elia busily fussing over her appearance with a faint smile, then gazed up at the sky beyond the window.
The lingering echo of the dream I had at dawn wouldn't fade.
Though it should have been a joyful and wonderful day, something felt strangely off.
'Mother's face... Why...'
Lost in thought, staring only at the sky, I caught sight of a familiar silhouette.
'That man...'
He was Norman's coachman—the very man who had disappeared with a woman at Hiss's Residence days ago.
I had searched for him the moment I returned to the Estate, but he was nowhere to be found.
'...Why is he here?'
Norman had come to find me and asked why I was looking for his coachman.
I made some excuse about needing him for an errand, but Norman had regarded me with suspicious eyes.
After that, the man continued to remain out of sight.
"Miss, we should depart soon."
"Ah, yes. I understand."
Grace gazed quietly in the direction the man had disappeared, then called for Rüfel.
"What is it, Miss?"
"Could you quietly follow that man?"
Rüfel peered through the window at the man's silhouette growing distant.
"I must escort you now, so I shall assign someone else to the task."
"Someone else? Is there another person here?"
Rüfel smiled quietly at Grace's bewildered question.
Understanding the meaning behind that smile, Grace asked nothing further.
'...So there are others besides Rüfel. The General's people.'
Whether she was someone planted within the Estate or hiding her presence from outside, one thing was certain—she was now within his field of vision.
The thought that he would have done the same for me didn't displease me.
Rather, being under his protection felt strangely reassuring.
For a moment, Grace found her own situation somewhat absurd. To worry about safety within her own home, the place that should be most secure.
'...This is something.'
Yes, threats could emerge at any time and place. There was no harm in being cautious.
It was just as Grace rose from her chair upon hearing that the carriage was ready.
A knock at the door, and an unexpected visitor entered.
* * *
"As a father, shouldn't I give my daughter a gift on her wedding day?"
Capren Oellin extended the box with an air of deliberate magnanimity.
Grace traced the edges of the box he offered.
It looked familiar—these were her mother's belongings.
"Your mother entrusted these to me, asking that I give them to you on your wedding day."
Ahem, hem!
He scratched his throat and lifted his chin with arrogant pride.
"Even as a Duchess, mind your conduct as a woman. That is all your father has to say."
Be modest as a woman.
Do not raise your voice.
Do not talk back to anyone.
Observe the other person's mood before speaking.
These were the "teachings" Capren had emphasized to Grace since childhood.
Grace never expected to hear such words even as she left this house.
Grace, who had been smiling faintly, opened the box's lid.
Inside were several items.
Her mother's hand mirror, a teacup, a pendant necklace, shoes, a few banknotes from her homeland that she had brought at her marriage, an old storybook, and more...
Grace touched each item one by one before asking in a quiet voice.
"What about the incense burner, Father?"
"...What?"
"Back then, you took the incense burner from me. You said you would return it later."
The Marquess Capren frowned in apparent confusion, then spoke with sudden irritation.
"The incense burner is gone! You should be grateful I found even these! Why would such an old incense burner matter?"
The Marquess's Butler had searched meticulously for over a month, but several items could not be found.
Far more money had been spent than what was received from selling the items.
Still, only seven pieces had been recovered.
The incompetent Butler reported that finding even these was a miracle.
Competitors kept pursuing the same items, purchasing them first.
'Damn it.'
That yellow contract troubled him, but he supposed finding even this much was something.
The problem was that Grace, who received it, should have accepted it gratefully—yet her expression was far from pleased.
He spoke as though scolding her.
"Do not forget, Grace, that greed invites calamity!"
Grace gently caressed the box in her hands, then let out a soft laugh as she replied.
"How is it greed for me to ask for what is mine, Father?"
"What, what did you say?"
"Strictly speaking... is it not you, Father, who has been excessively greedy—selling away even your daughter's possessions?"
"Grace!"
Capren Oellin's indignation flared.
He had endeavored to maintain a pleasant demeanor befitting such an auspicious day, yet he could not abide his daughter's insolent tongue.
"How dare you speak thus to your father!"
Capren Oellin's hand rose without his conscious intent.
"I have but one question for you, Father."
Yet Grace was quicker still.
"At that time... why did Mother's eyes become as they were?"
"What, what?"
"Mother lost her sight before she passed away, did she not? Why did that happen, Father? You know, don't you?"
At Grace's question, Capren Oellin visibly startled, stepping backward.
Grace recalled her mother's face as she had last seen it in her dreams.
Eyes that looked upon her yet could not see.
The faint scars lingering at the corners, those eyes that would not open.
How could she have forgotten such a thing?
As though under some enchantment, she had forgotten it completely.
As though only those memories had been erased.
Yet the moment she beheld her mother's face in her dream, the memories buried beneath sleep resurfaced.
The hazy recollections of her mother returned in clarity.
Though somewhat disoriented at first, the moment she saw the items her father had brought—her mother's belongings—the memories became whole.
"Why, why do you ask of this now?"
"Why? Because I remember, that is why."
"You remember?"
"...Why, Father? Is it forbidden to remember?"
Capren Oellin clenched his teeth, then suddenly broke into a bright smile.
"You speak foolishness, Grace. On such a fine day, would you sow discord? I congratulate you on your marriage. Be a good wife, Grace."
Capren Oellin hastily delivered the words he had prepared and turned sharply away.
"Father."
Grace spoke to his retreating form.
"You have never once stood by my side."
Capren Oellin stiffened and halted.
Though his face was hidden, she knew his brow was furrowed.
"You have never held me warmly, never soothed my fevered brow, never mediated between Norman and me."
"...A father is simply that kind of existence."
Capren Oellin replied, his voice tight with suppressed irritation.
"I see.... Well, regardless, I am grateful to have been born as the daughter of House of Marquess Oellin and to have received warm care and quality education."
Grace Oellin spoke with a sardonic edge to her words.
"Please do not be too greedy, Father."
An elegant smile, as if drawn with a brush, graced Grace Oellin's face.
"As you yourself have said, greed invites ruin. Do not forget that."
It was the smile of one whose heart had been steeled, unwavering and resolute.
"Then...farewell, Father."
From this day forward, I will no longer stand by your side, nor will I comfort your tears, nor will I mediate between you and anyone else.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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