Chapter 26
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Chapter 26 The next day, Vivian visited the Garden with the two of them. In a quiet, sun-drenched corner of the Garden stood a Gravestone. 【Isela Edelbayne】 Vivian released Rachel's hand for a moment and withdrew a paper flower from her bag. Yesterday, despite Rachel's objections, she had painstakingly gathered and preserved it. As Vivian let go of the hand she'd been holding, Rachel hesitated briefly, then waited in silence. Curtis Rohan watched Vivian secure the flower with a stone to keep it from blowing away in the wind, his gaze lingering on both her and the bloom. It was the flower Isela had loved, the one she had once woven into a crown for me. Since I had never told Vivian about this flower, Rachel must have been the one to mention it. A child who remembered the flower her mother cherished would surely have wanted to visit her mother's grave. I swallowed the surge of emotion that rose at my own belated realization of this truth. I shifted the atmosphere and asked Vivian a question.
"Do you know how to honor the departed?"
"Yes. Every time I pray to Mother, I do it like this."
Vivian nodded and demonstrated by pressing her small hands together.
"Good. Simply do as you always have."
As I lowered my head, Vivian followed suit. Seeing her do so, Rachel also bowed his head. After the spring breeze rustled through the leaves several times, Rachel glanced up and his eyes met mine, which had been watching him. In that instant, the memory of my weeping at Isela's funeral surfaced, and his heart sank heavily. Rachel quickly lowered his head again, but....
"Rachel."
My voice had already followed him. [You said you would preserve it, Isela, and yet you...!] The phantom words that followed made his heart race and his breath catch. He wanted to flee, but he could not. Because of Vivian's careful grip on his hand. Because he could not abandon this child and run.
"Your mother would be pleased to see you like this."
But what followed in my voice and what dwelt in my eyes was neither the anger Rachel had imagined nor the unbearable sorrow he had braced himself for.
"I should have brought you long ago."
It was a profound longing. That emotion deepened the moment our eyes met. Rachel stared blankly as I gently stroked the child's hair as if caressing her mother's Gravestone.
"I thought you feared me. It was a cowardly rationalization."
"...."
"The truth is, I lacked the courage to face you. Every time I saw you, the thought that I had killed your mother suffocated me."
My eyes, mingled with self-mockery and remorse, twisted painfully. Yet in those eyes there was neither resentment nor anger. In that moment, seeing me speak thus, Rachel thought for the first time that he and his grandfather resembled each other. His blue eyes, brimming with sorrow.
"I have regretted it my entire life. That I let your mother go in such a way back then...."
"...."
"But I have only now come to understand that such regret has already grown too late. And I have also come to realize that once this moment passes, I shall regret again."
The hand that had been ceaselessly wiping the Gravestone came to rest, and he turned his head to gaze upon Rachel as he continued.
"Back then, I should not have left you lonely, consumed as I was by my own emotions."
"...."
"I am sorry."
Upon hearing those words, Rachel's eyes wavered like fierce waves crashing upon the shore. The light in Curtis's eyes, too, and the lips that had been speaking so calmly, began to tremble. He worked his lips for a long while before managing to speak again.
"...This old fool has only now come to understand, far too late."
Faced with the genuine heart of the grandfather he had only just truly met, Rachel knew not what to do. 'Did I wish to hear these words? Or am I angry? Or perhaps....' In truth, I understood nothing. Only my throat grew tight. Rachel turned away from the emotions welling up as if to sweep me away entirely. And then I simply fled. Curtis watched the receding figure of Rachel with bitter eyes, yet he did not call the child back. The one who remained at his side was Vivian.
"The Young Lady does not dislike the Duke because of this. It is like how things feel awkward for a time after quarreling with Father and then reconciling."
"...."
"Since the Young Lady has been hurt for such a very long time, it will take even longer than that."
"...."
"But still... you will wait, won't you?"
The thoughtful golden eyes of the child asking thus seemed to caress him gently. Curtis, gazing upon those eyes, let out a soft laugh and nodded.
"...Of course."
For as long as that child has waited, or even longer still. Only then did Vivian smile brightly.
"Then I shall wait with you as well."
"...Together?"
"Ah, first I must go to Rachel... the Young Lady and return."
The child pointed in the direction her grandson had run, seeking permission. When Curtis readily nodded, Vivian immediately dashed off in the direction Rachel had fled. Beaming brightly at him as she went. Curtis's eyes, watching the child's pink hair flutter as she grew distant, became as serene as an afternoon lake.
"...Fare well, Isela."
Now I seem able to escape from the irreversible past and live in this present without you. And beyond that, I have become curious about the future of these children.
"We shall fare well too."
Having offered his final farewell, Curtis took a step—one beat delayed—along the path where the children had already disappeared. * * * Searching the Estate for Rachel, Vivian discovered a familiar silhouette in the Library. Rachel was huddled between the bookshelves.
"You were here?"
Vivian made no effort to hide her footsteps as she approached and sat beside him. Rachel did not lift his head, yet he did not move away. After gauging Rachel's mood for a moment, Vivian spoke with careful deliberation.
"Rachel, did you leave earlier because you were embarrassed?"
"...."
"Or is it because you hate the Duke?"
Rachel neither answered nor reacted. I did not understand what this feeling—as if my chest might burst—was, but I did not want to show Vivian this side of myself. Yet Vivian did not relent.
"I want to know how you feel, Rachel."
"...."
"Because I don't know what you're feeling, I'm not sure what I should say to you."
She wanted to peer into my emotions—ones I myself did not understand—and soothe them. That longing was woven into her careful words. Suddenly, something Vivian had said once came to mind. [Friends are supposed to share their true feelings with each other. When something hurts, they comfort you. When something angers you, they take your side. They even share secrets that can't be spoken aloud. That's how you become closer friends.] Even if my emotions were unrefined and chaotic, even if I appeared unstable, unable to make sense of them.... Would you understand? Rachel's lips trembled with hesitation before I finally lifted my head.
"...I don't really know either."
Whether I'm happy or sad, what I want to do about Grandfather. Meeting Vivian's turbulent amber eyes, she blinked in surprise for a moment, then crouched down beside me and whispered.
"Then I'll stay by your side until you understand what you're feeling."
"...."
"If you cry, I'll comfort you. If you laugh, I'll laugh with you. If you're angry, I'll be angry with you too."
"...."
"I'm on your side."
In that moment, her softly curved amber eyes gleamed with captured sunlight. More dazzling than any jewel. The turbulence in my own eyes gradually stilled as I gazed into hers. Even amid the chaos, I could be certain of one thing in this moment. Those eyes shining toward me.... I loved them so very much.
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