Chapter 24
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Chapter 24
"Then let's meet the day after tomorrow, Rachel."
The day before Isela's death anniversary.
As I sat in Rachel's room working on word puzzles as usual, the chiming of the grandfather clock marking the hour drew me to my feet.
Rachel then furrowed his brow slightly and asked.
"Why the day after tomorrow? What about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is your mother's death anniversary, isn't it? Don't you do any memorial services or anything like that?"
Of course, Isela's grave wouldn't be in this neighborhood, but I'd heard that nobles maintain memorial spaces in their estates to honor the departed.
Spaces where the dead could be honored from anywhere.
'Thinking back to when the Duke spoke of Rachel's mother recently, it doesn't seem like he'd let tomorrow pass without acknowledgment.'
Yet an unexpected answer came that defied my expectations.
"...I don't do that sort of thing."
"Why?"
"...."
Rachel didn't answer.
I studied Rachel's expression carefully before asking cautiously.
"Did you perhaps have a difficult relationship with your mother?"
From what I'd heard from Curtis, Rachel's mother seemed to have been a good person....
'Just because the Duke spoke of her as a dutiful daughter doesn't mean she was a good mother to Rachel.'
If Rachel was uncomfortable with the topic, I had no intention of bringing it up again.
"If that's the case, I won't mention your mother again. I don't want to say things that hurt my friend."
"...That's not it."
"Then what?"
Rachel hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"I think Grandfather wouldn't like it. Me honoring my mother."
"Why would you think that? You're her son—it's only natural that you'd miss her and want to honor her memory."
At my question, Rachel's lips moved, but he ultimately couldn't respond.
Because of a memory that suddenly surfaced.
[If it weren't for that wretch.... You wouldn't have suffered so, wouldn't have contracted such an illness.]
[...Father.]
[To save that thing, Isela, you've come to this...!]
The sound of Grandfather's weeping from the day I came to the Duke's estate with Mother was still vivid in my ears.
Of course, I'd been too young then to even comprehend the concept of 'death,' so I hadn't truly grasped what that weeping meant.
It wasn't until Mother's funeral that I understood what 'death' was, and what Grandfather's weeping had signified.
'I killed Mother.'
That's why I never visited to honor Isela on her death anniversary.
Afraid that I'd have to face Grandfather's weeping—the weeping I'd overheard back then—without any escape this time.
I hated Grandfather for what he surely felt toward me, yet simultaneously I was consumed with unbearable guilt.
But....
"Then Rachel, just tell me this honestly. Do you miss your mother?"
The weight of guilt did not mean I had stopped missing my mother.
I was simply afraid to face my grandfather's sorrow and my own culpability.
Rachel had never confessed such genuine feelings to anyone before.
"...Truth is, I want to see her."
How could I not miss her?
She was the first person in this world to love me.
Even living in a drafty, dilapidated house during cold winters, she was the gentle soul who taught me what love truly meant.
She was once my entire world....
The moment I spoke aloud the feelings I had buried so carefully, they took on form and substance.
I wanted to see her.
I missed her. So very much.
Vivian made a proposal to Rachel.
"Then let's go see your mother."
Rachel's eyes widened.
"How?"
"There's a portrait of your mother at the Villa, isn't there?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where?"
"It's probably on the Fourth Floor."
"Then today, you and I will go there together. The Duke will pay his respects tomorrow, so if we slip away today, he won't find out, will he?"
A space to honor the deceased had been set apart in the Villa's rear gardens.
So surely the grandfather and the servants preparing for the memorial would pay no particular attention to the Corridor where the portrait hung.
It was quite an enticing plan.
"What do you say, Rachel? Will you come to the Corridor with me?"
Rachel stared blankly at Vivian's earnest question, then let out a soft laugh.
This girl always had a knack for finding answers somehow. Remarkably so.
Interpreting that laughter as silent consent, Vivian fell into her next dilemma.
"Hmm, but when visiting the deceased, one should bring flowers."
Hearing Vivian's words, a memory suddenly surfaced.
"Now that I think about it, there was a flower my mother loved."
"Oh! What kind of flower?"
"It's called a Marca flower—it only blooms in the Northern Region.... It won't bloom here."
Every year at this time, Marca flowers bloomed in the Northern Region.
But in this Village with its mild climate, they could not be obtained.
Just as Rachel was about to resign herself to this, Vivian cried out.
"Then, let's make one."
"...A flower?"
Rachel doubted her own ears.
Of all things, make a flower?
But Vivian seemed to have something else in mind, nodding confidently.
"Yes. Can you describe what that flower looks like?"
Rachel decided to trust me once more.
This child who always found the answers.
* * *
"See you later then!"
Vivian and Rachel parted ways at the door.
Rachel headed to the Library to find a book with illustrations of Marca flowers.
Vivian went to the Corridor to scout ahead for decorating it with those flowers.
As the two children disappeared to their respective tasks, Sally emerged from where she had been hiding in the hallway.
'I'm not sure what they're planning... but this is my chance.'
You're finished now, Vivian.
Once their footsteps had completely faded, Sally wore a meaningful smile as she slipped into the Room.
Soon after, the door closed quietly.
* * *
"All done!"
I picked up the paper flower I had made.
I had worried it might look crude, but once finished, it looked better than expected.
"Shall we go now?"
Rachel nodded.
I stuffed the flower into my bag and left the Room with Rachel.
Just as we were trying to sneak up the stairs to avoid the other servants' eyes.
"Vivian, could we talk for a moment?"
The Nanny appeared and blocked our path. The smug expression on Sally's face beside her felt deeply unsettling.
"What is it, Nanny?"
And my ominous premonition was never wrong.
Sally spoke up.
"You stole the young lady's belongings, didn't you?"
"...What?"
Before I could even respond in shock, Rachel furrowed his brow and refuted on my behalf.
"Vivian was with me the whole time. She didn't do anything suspicious."
"That's not true. You left the Room with the young lady earlier and went separate ways. She came back to the Room alone in secret at that time."
I blinked in bewilderment. I had certainly never returned to the Room alone.
So Sally was fabricating lies right now.
I responded calmly.
"I never went back to the Room. When I returned to the Room, the young lady was already there."
"Does anyone have proof you were somewhere else at that time?"
That question left me speechless.
'There's no one who can prove I was on the Fourth Floor at that time.'
The Fourth Floor was already a rarely used area with few maids around, and I had moved about secretly to avoid being noticed while searching the Corridor.
After a moment of confusion, I regained my composure and pointed out Sally's flaw.
"You don't need to prove your innocence—you need to prove your guilt. Do you have evidence?"
"That bag."
Sally pointed at the bag slung across my shoulders as if she'd been waiting for this moment.
"Open it."
I flinched.
'I was so focused on putting the flowers in that I didn't even see what else was inside....'
More importantly, the bag contained the paper flowers I'd made with Rachel.
'If anyone else sees this, I'll have to explain what it is, and then my plan to sneak off to the Corridor with Rachel will be exposed.'
As I stood there hesitating, uncertain what to do, Sally suddenly stepped forward and snatched the bag away from me with crude force.
"If you're so confident, you should just show me, right?"
Then she turned it upside down and dumped everything inside onto the floor.
"What are you doing?!"
I tried to stop Sally a moment too late, but all the flowers had already spilled out of the bag.
And among them....
Something that appeared to be Rachel's hairpin rolled out across the floor.
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