Chapter 58
A suffocating darkness lay thick over the long mansion corridor stretching before Eleonore’s sky-blue eyes. The occasional magicite lamp cast a small pool of light, but that was all.
Passing the mysterious blue glow seeping through the glass of the lamps, Eleonore walked alone down the long corridor.
The scene before her was a little wondrous, something she would never have seen in the modern world where she had lived.
Still, Eleonore had grown quite accustomed to the stately corridors of a European-style mansion, and to the blue magicite lamps that lit them.
And it wasn’t just those things.
She knew perfectly well where the long corridor led, and what lay beyond the heavy wooden door she had just passed.
Her lessons with her mother, Etie, had made her quite familiar with this enormous mansion.
Now, she could make her way around the estate without getting lost, even without Sophie or the other maids’ help.
“Dmitri said he was staying in a guest room on the third floor of the west wing.”
Eleonore’s mutter echoed through the quiet corridor. The sound was louder than she’d expected, and she couldn’t help giving a small start.
The main building of the mansion was divided into east and west wings by the entrance and the large central staircase in front of it.
The eastern part of the mansion, which they called the east wing, was reserved for the members of House Béarn. The west wing, by contrast, housed guests and those who worked at the estate.
“Why is it so quiet today, anyway?”
Though she was used to the place, perhaps its atmosphere felt a little chilly. Eleonore glanced restlessly up and down the silent corridor, shrouded in darkness.
In truth, Eleonore didn’t know the whole story. Thanks to a certain someone, House Béarn had started its day much earlier than usual, and the servants had finished up a little earlier, too.
“Sigh… If I’d known it would be like this, I should’ve woken her and asked her to come with me…”
Eleonore murmured as she fingered the neatly folded white handkerchief in her hand. Between her long, thin fingers, wrapped here and there in bandages, crooked letters showed faintly through the white fabric.
#.
Whether fortunately or unfortunately.
Eugenie, who had been cowering earlier, had returned to her usual self after Eleonore personally wiped her face with a warm, damp towel.
“Ah, seriously! I told you to go inside and rest!”
If anything, she had become an even more energetic maid.
As soon as they had climbed down from the carriage, Eugenie had washed the dust from her body and then gone straight to Eleonore’s bedroom without taking any time to rest.
“My lady, I’m fine. I got plenty of rest in the carriage, too.”
Eugenie smiled brightly, her still-damp platinum hair swaying gently from side to side.
‘Excuse me, Miss Eugenie. I’m the one who isn’t fine.’
Even as Eleonore shook her head, Eugenie drew her hands up to her chest, clenched them into fists, and gazed intently at her.
“And, you know, I made a promise to myself. From now on, I really won’t let you out of my sight, no matter where we are.”
“Um… Eugenie. I appreciate you caring about me, but we’re at our own estate, you know?”
“Yes! Even here at the estate! You know, my lady? I think I’ve been a little too complacent all this time.”
You died at your own estate, too.
Swallowing the words that followed, Eugenie gave her dear longtime friend a bright smile.
Eleonore let out a long sigh.
Ever since she’d started living as a young lady, she’d given up on privacy. Someone was always at her side when she changed clothes or bathed. Her maid knew her body better than she did.
But she hadn’t expected even her private time to be invaded like this.
Eleonore lifted her head and looked at Eugenie, who was smiling brightly.
To be honest, Eleonore felt a little uncomfortable around Eugenie.
Not because they weren’t close. Eugenie was the only person in the estate she could truly open her heart to.
It was just that Eugenie was a woman—specifically, a woman whose body was about the same age as Eleonore’s had been in her previous life. A woman her own age.
Her pretty face and gentle manner, the way she approached Eleonore so warmly, and even the occasional physical contact—whether intentional or not—all of it felt burdensome to Eleonore.
She’d been horrified when Eugenie suggested they bathe together earlier…
“Sigh… Fine… Do as you like.”
Eugenie’s lips curled into a delighted smile, nearly reaching her ears.
Well, she had only just come of age. How long could that resolve possibly last?
“Then, my lady, shall I give you a massage? You rode for quite a while yesterday. Are you sore?”
Besides, she had something she wanted to ask about noble ladies.
“Actually, Eugenie.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“You know…”
At Eleonore’s uncharacteristic hesitation, Eugenie tilted her head slightly to one side, her ivory-colored hair shifting with it.
“Um… I’d like to thank His Grace, the Grand Duke. But I’m not used to all the etiquette and such. Is there a good way to do it?”
Eugenie’s violet eyes sparkled. She scampered over to stand right in front of Eleonore.
“His Grace the Grand Duke?”
“Yes… I caused him a little trouble, too. And…”
“My lady. Have you finally made up your mind?”
Then Eugenie’s soft hands clasped Eleonore’s tiny ones. Under that intent violet gaze, Eleonore flustered and stumbled over her words.
“M-Made up my mind? What decision?”
“Oh, come on. Playing dumb again. What could we possibly hide from each other?”
“Hey! It’s not like that with His Grace!”
Despite Eleonore’s protest, Eugenie merely teased her, clicking her tongue.
“Ahem. Well, His Grace is a pretty good catch. He’s quite handsome, too. And that physique… Oh, right, my lady, when His Grace held you—”
“Stop, stop, stop! Seriously! I said it’s not like thaaat!”
A shrill voice rang through the room. Her slightly damp platinum hair swung through the air from side to side. Eleonore shook her head so vigorously that she nearly gagged.
“Oh, honestly! Our young lady is just too cute.”
“I said it’s not like thaaat…”
“Yes, yes. I know perfectly well it’s not like that.”
Eleonore glared at Eugenie, her eyes bloodshot from retching a couple of times. Her gaze was full of concern, but laughter filled her smile.
“Hmm… Then what would be a good gift? Oh! How about an embroidered handkerchief? You used to be quite good at embroidery when you were little, my lady.”
“Embroidery? Embroidery…”
Apparently intrigued by Eugenie’s suggestion, Eleonore opened her red eyes wide.
“I’ve lost my memories, Eugenie. Won’t it be difficult?”
“It shouldn’t be too hard if you just embroider your initials. It won’t take long, either. If it’s too difficult, I can help you. Shall I have someone bring the things you need?”
Back when she was still Seo Juha, she had often read fantasy novels in which women gave embroidered handkerchiefs as tokens of gratitude.
Eleonore looked at Eugenie and nodded slightly.
Of course, neither Seo Juha nor Eleonore knew what that gesture meant in a romance-fantasy world.
#.
Was it because he was tired in more ways than one? Or was the whiskey Albris had given him stronger than he’d expected?
After a servant showed him back to his room, Dmitri sat down heavily on the sofa beside the bed, his face slightly flushed.
“Damn it. Even this sofa is every bit as comfortable as a bed in the Grand Ducal residence.”
With the alcohol going to his head, Dmitri spoke more roughly than usual and planted his feet on the table in front of the sofa.
‘It’s not a bad deal for Your Grace, is it? For our Eli, too. And for House Béarn.’
He felt miserable.
Dmitri hadn’t been able to answer Albris, his younger sister, who had said those words so calmly, without even changing her expression.
Because they were true.
The North needed House Béarn right now. If he didn’t get the magicite mine, he would have to come down to the capital next spring and beg like a pauper.
‘Besides, doesn’t Your Grace have some feelings for her, too?’
But that wasn’t the only thing that turned Dmitri’s stomach. He had long since cast aside his pride as a Grand Duke to protect the North and save the people who lived there.
Feelings, huh…
Dmitri idly tapped the empty wineglass on the table with the tip of his shoe.
Honestly, it would be a lie to say he hadn’t been drawn to the young lady’s beauty.
The beautiful platinum hair swaying softly before his eyes. Her soft body in his arms, and the fragrant scent of roses on her skin.
Of course, the situation had been so urgent last night that he hadn’t consciously registered any of that.
But now the incident was over. And the alcohol had gone pleasantly to his head, too.
Every sensation Eleonore had given him was returning, one by one, from every part of him that had touched her.
Her quirky, adorable manner at their first meeting, too.
The pleasant conversation they’d shared over dessert on the terrace after their meal.
And her beautiful figure in the moonlight at the margrave’s farewell ball not long ago.
Knock, knock, knock
The knock interrupted Dmitri’s memories of her, and he responded somewhat irritably.
“Who is it at this hour?”
Then the voice slipping through the crack in the firmly shut door instantly swept away the thick haze of drunkenness circling his head.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Your Grace. It’s Eleonore Béarn.”