Chapter 38
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Chapter 38
The first week of October brought its customary chill. I gathered a thick shoulder shawl in preparation for a walk with Aunt Elicia.
"Charlotte, you seem to have slept well last night. You look less tired than usual."
As Charlotte descended the stairs to join me for our walk, I asked with a playful expression. It was clear I still believed she was secretly meeting her lover each night, just as I had been doing.
"Oh? Um..."
Yet unlike yesterday, Charlotte answered in a dejected voice. She had intended to protest this morning about the book I had given her yesterday. But last night, before midnight had even arrived, Leopold had escorted her home.
'I was waiting for His Highness in the forest from early evening. I wanted to spend more time together.'
Charlotte thought with a sullen expression. As winter approached, the nights grew longer, yet to Charlotte, who held Leopold dear, they always felt far too brief. But despite all her effort in bringing blankets and a lamp, Leopold had escorted her home early and, rather than following her into her room, had simply walked back alone into the deep darkness.
'His Highness's behavior yesterday was strange. He said he wouldn't forget me, but then shortly after, he sent me home... Why would he do that?'
I walked along the path behind the Augusta Mansion with Jane and Aunt Elicia, lost in thought. The sound of fallen leaves rustling beneath my feet echoed the feeling of last night.
'...Did I laugh too freely at His Highness's noble kiss? Could he have noticed because of that?'
My face flushed instantly as I recalled last night. The memory of Leopold's sweet, warm lips touching my forehead surfaced. That kiss on the forehead was one filled with pure affection, a promise of protection. Since Leopold was royalty, perhaps he had bestowed such kisses many times before.
'My face turned so red at His Highness's simple and pure kiss... Could he have realized that I have feelings for him?'
My expression shifted rapidly from worry to embarrassment, then to panic and despair. Jane caught sight of my face changing so quickly and burst into suppressed laughter.
'A heart bouncing back and forth, small yet burning worries. Ah, secret romance really is amusing.'
Jane recalled how she had been when she first began her romance with Terrence, and gently linked her arm through mine.
"Charlotte, is your romance not going well? If so, tell me. I know a very skilled necromancer. That necromancer can not only read other people's hearts with the help of spirits, but can also cast mysterious sorcery to capture the heart of the one you love."
At Jane's teasing remark, I pouted in response.
"Oh, come now, that's not it at all. Jane, dear...."
'How could I ever presume to harbor romantic feelings for someone of his station? Such a thing could never happen to me....'
Even as Charlotte dismissed the notion, a scene from the book Jane had given her yesterday flickered through her mind. Lovers embracing tenderly, their gazes intertwined as they whispered sweet affections—those precious moments lovers shared together.
'It could never happen... but if it did, how wonderful that would be.'
Charlotte conjured in her heart the piercing gaze of Leopold, who resembled an elegant forest wolf. And with that image came a cascade of memories—his beautifully bronzed, flawless skin, the soft lips that had brushed her forehead, and those expansive arms that had enveloped her entirely.
'I wish I could be held in that embrace once more.'
Of course, there had been many occasions when he had held her—when she'd fallen from a tree, or when they'd needed to cross the City Center. But perhaps because of Jane's book, Charlotte now yearned to be held by him for a different reason entirely, one burning and passionate, not born of mere necessity.
"Hmm... now that I think of it, that necromancer has apparently relocated to London... We ought to visit together before every young lady in London lines up at his door."
Jane spoke teasingly to Charlotte, who had once again fallen into reverie. At that moment, Aunt Elicia, who had been walking a few paces ahead of them, finally spoke.
"My, the forest's essence has grown so thick—it's hardly pleasant for a stroll, is it, girls?"
Jane, delighted that Charlotte had no chance to protest, quickly answered Aunt Elicia's question.
"The fallen leaves are quite beautiful, Aunt."
"Ah, that's not what I mean. The forest's essence has changed because the Saint's Day approaches. The spirits sleeping in the forest are awakening, growing more vibrant by the day. Perhaps even more so than the living."
Aunt Elicia, her expression animated, placed her hand upon a great tree standing in the heart of the forest. Had Bianca witnessed this, she would have dismissed it as her aunt's peculiar nonsense. Had it been Helena, she would have rolled her eyes at such an impractical notion. But Jane was different.
"Every time you speak in such riddles, Aunt, I find myself wondering if you truly are a most formidable necromancer."
Jane replied in a cheerful voice. Given her fondness for necromancy and sorcery, Jane was among those who listened most intently to Aunt Elicia's words, alongside Charlotte.
At that, Aunt Elicia's weathered face broke into a gentle smile.
"I speak only truth. This forest was once the burial ground of our ancestors from the Augusta Family, long ago."
Aunt Elicia ceased her caress of the tree and closed her eyes softly as she spoke.
"So it is no coincidence that we, their descendants, feel the vitality of spirits in this place."
"Hmm... I can perceive nothing but the scent of rain-soaked fallen leaves and the dampness carried on the wind, Aunt."
Jane closed her eyes as she followed Aunt Elicia, speaking softly. Between the two of them, eyes shut as they sought to sense something ineffable, I gazed upon the densely packed forest.
"..."
From somewhere within the woods came a hurried melody, as though played upon a wooden flute, and it resonated within my ears. Yet I could not discern with certainty whether it was truly music or merely the sound of wind cutting through the trees. What remained undeniable, however, was that the sound carried a peculiar busyness all its own—like the stirring of new buds in spring.
"Regrettably, and yet fortunately... not everyone possesses the ability to perceive the soul, Helena."
"I am Jane, Aunt. Jane Augusta, the eldest of the Augusta Family."
Aunt Elicia opened her eyes and whispered, whereupon Jane gently corrected her in a tender voice. The elderly Aunt Elicia often confused the names of the Augusta sisters. Of course, Charlotte alone—she who bore features distinct from the others—was an exception.
"Ah, yes. The young lady beside Charlotte is Jane... Yes, our Jane, who shall soon be married."
Aunt Elicia spoke with a look of mild surprise, as though she had just learned something new. Then she withdrew her hand from the tree and resumed her walk along the forest path with movements as graceful as a ballerina's dance.
"Now that I think of it, Aunt speaks in riddles and confuses the names of we Augusta sisters, yet you always remember my name with perfect clarity, Charlotte. Is that not so?"
Walking behind Aunt Elicia, Jane whispered to me.
"Perhaps having chestnut hair unlike the rest of your family is not entirely a misfortune..."
At Jane's words, I withdrew my gaze from the densely packed forest. With that, the wooden flute melody that had been ringing in my ears gradually began to fade.
It was as Jane and I continued our walk behind Aunt Elicia that it happened.
Clop—clop—
The urgent sound of hoofbeats echoed from the forest path behind us, and a handsome white horse came into view.
"Miss Charlotte!"
It was Philip Oslo, astride the horse with an imposing bearing, who called out my name and approached the three of us in an instant.
"Oh my...!"
With Jane's exclamation, Philip dug his spurred heels into the horse's flank. The animal, signaling its pain, changed direction and slowed its pace.
"Good afternoon, ladies... and madam."
Philip pulled hard on the reins, breathing heavily as he spoke. The white horse, equally exhausted by the frantic pace, snorted sharply through its nostrils.
Aunt Elicia, who had been walking ahead of the sisters, and even Jane herself were so startled by the sudden appearance of the handsome gentleman that they forgot to return his greeting. Instead, Jane blinked rapidly, her eyes darting back and forth between Charlotte and Philip.
"My goodness, my goodness... is this the gentleman...?"
Brilliant golden hair backlit by the morning sun, and a sturdy frame clad in a crimson naval officer's uniform. It was unmistakably Philip Oslo of the Oslo Estate—the very man Katie had written of in her letters. He was also the most promising suitor among those gentlemen who had shown interest in Charlotte.
"Forgive me for interrupting your ladies' walk."
Philip inclined his head with impeccable courtesy as he spoke.
"I have an urgent matter to discuss with Miss Charlotte."
As he spoke these words, Philip's lips curved into a smile so sweet that most ladies would have melted at the sight of it.
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