"Tessa?"
Startled, Roxana instinctively pulled on the mask she had been holding. While she was still wavering on what to do, the man stepped forward in a single stride and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
"Old Woman Tessa. It’s been a while."
A voice that sounded slightly excited burrowed into her ears. There was only one person who could wander around this place at such a late hour in such a defenseless state.
Curtis.
Roxana’s body stiffened. The hands pulling her in from behind held her in a suffocating embrace. Roxana caught the scent that brushed against her neck before fading away. A faint smell of alcohol, the cool breeze, the scent of grass, and a light trace of sandalwood mingled to tickle her nose. Curtis pulled away from the hug, returned to her front, and knelt down to meet her eye level.
"Why aren't you rapping me on the head? You haven't lost your temper just because you've aged, have you?"
His voice was full of affection, like a boy acting spoiled in front of his grandmother. Roxana stared at the man before her, frozen. A mischievous, playful, and tender smile.
"You shouldn't be happy, Roxana."
It was a completely different expression from the one he had worn when he whispered those cold words. It was as if the same person were wearing someone else's mask.
"Are you still not willing to talk to me? Even if I did steal a few valuables at the end. I even returned them, didn't I? Doubled."
The image of a large dog with its tail tucked between its legs overlapped with Curtis. Her hand moved on its own. Her outstretched hand brushed his smooth forehead and touched his cheek. He closed his eyes like a puppy, savoring the touch.
"I thought you would never look at me again, Old Woman."
"……."
"You said that killing people is something only a beast worse than an animal would do."
Instead of the sharp voice that had raked over her like a bird of prey, a clear, bright voice like a boy's rang out like a harmony. It was a fragment of the boy from the past, whom she had thought was lost forever.
Ten years.
It had been a full ten years. Between them lay a deep chasm of ill-fated connection and an unbridgeable span of time.
"Old Woman."
At the sound of his voice, Roxana came to her senses and pulled her hand away as if burned. Regretting the loss of warmth, Curtis sat flat on the floor and placed his hand on her knee.
"You came to see my face after receiving the letter, so that's enough. I won't feel slighted anymore."
The eyelashes looking up at her were long and thick, not like a man's. The impression that had once seemed fierce with its upturned corners now gave off a languid, seductive atmosphere, blended with cheeks flushed as if from drink.
"That aside, I have something important to tell you."
Curtis muttered, reaching his arm toward her face.
"But before that, why don't you show me that expensive face of yours?"
"My Lord."
Just before Curtis could pull off her mask, a soldier approached. Taking advantage of the moment Curtis’s attention was diverted, Roxana jumped up and fled.
* * *
She ran with every ounce of strength she had until she was gasping for air. Roxana made it back to her room without encountering a single soul. *Bang!* As she closed the door and leaned her back against the wall, the strength drained from her legs.
The face she had encountered after so long left her in turmoil. It felt like seeing a treasure she had thought lost long ago and resigned herself to, now held in someone else's hands. Overcome by an inexplicable sense of loss, Roxana squeezed her eyes shut.
"…What on earth are you thinking?"
It was only natural that he hated her. Her father had killed his parents. Since he had taken everything and trampled it, it was only fair that he, too, would take and trample everything of hers. Her mind understood it, but a corner of her heart ached. The childhood memories she had cherished like fragments of gold dust had turned into sharp glass shards, piercing her left breast.
As she took a deep breath to steady herself, a voice laced with irritation drifted from beyond the door leading to the bedroom.
"What is it? Why is it so noisy?"
It seemed Frey had been awakened by the loud noise in the dead of night. She rarely slept soundly, so any time she managed to catch some shut-eye was precious. Roxana, having quickly suppressed the emotions that had surged like a tide, carefully opened the side door.
"I apologize, My Lady. You woke up because of me."
"Where are you coming back from?"
"They said a gypsy had arrived."
"…I see."
Frey’s expression clouded for a moment before returning to normal. Noticing her emotions even under the faint moonlight, Roxana slowly approached the bed.
"Did you want to see the gypsy? I would have brought them to you if you had asked."
"I can't even see, so what would be the point of going?"
"But there is the atmosphere and the sounds of the scene. There were birds that could talk, and a snake dancing to the sound of a flute. Aren't you curious?"
She was ready to prepare for an outing that very instant if Frey wished. Frey, who had shaken her head dejectedly, lay back down and turned her back to her.
"I don't need it. You go and see all of that yourself."
Even if she went to see it, it was obvious she would only feel a deeper sense of deprivation. She didn't want anyone to see her, once the most lovely girl in the South, in such a fallen state.
"I'm going to sleep now, so get out."
"My Lady."
Roxana, who would normally have risen quietly, whispered softly.
"It is not your fault that you went blind, My Lady."
"I know that."
"And even if you are blind, you are still truly lovely and beautiful, My Lady."
"…I know that, too."
"Actually, I think you are a little cute, My Lady."
"What?"
Frey, who had turned back around in bewilderment, opened her mouth to snap at her. She had intended to pour out a lecture on how insolent she was, but all her motivation vanished at the trembling end of the sentence.
"Are you crying?"
"I am not crying."
A lie. Her voice was full of moisture.
"Are you lying to me because I can't see?"
Roxana cleared her throat and changed the subject.
"It breaks my heart that you act like a sinner when you have done nothing wrong, My Lady."
"Are you drunk?"
"My Lady."
Now that she mentioned it, there was a faint smell of alcohol. Two arms pulled at Frey, who was scrunching up her face.
"Hey!"
"My Lady. My dear Lady."
"Let go of this……."
Frey tried to shake her off, but Roxana was stronger. As Frey finally gave up and let her body go limp, Roxana emphasized again.
"You really have done nothing wrong, My Lady. You are the most beautiful and lovely person I have ever seen. Even if you are a little mean."
"……."
"I don't want you to live in hiding. If you live in hiding when you have done nothing wrong, people will invent sins that don't even exist."
"Roxana."
"Anyway…… I am truly sorry."
It had been a day with many things happening since the morning. As the tension faded, fatigue washed over her. Roxana collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in it.
"Roxana?"
Frey blinked her sightless eyes in bewilderment. Not only had her maid dared to act drunk, but she had also collapsed onto her mistress's bed.
"Do you really want to be kicked out?"
It was a flaw she had finally found. Hadn't she been waiting and waiting for a chance to kick her out the moment she caught her? If she told Robert right now, it would be the end of it.
"I should teach her a lesson so she comes to her senses."
"I'm sorry……."
The hand that had been groping the wall to find the bell cord hesitated, then slid down.
"…What is there to be sorry about. It's a bother, so I'll let it slide."
It's just because it's a bother. There's no other reason. Frey muttered to herself as if making an excuse, and turned her back to Roxana, pretending not to notice. Just before she drifted back to sleep, the voice echoed in her head like an echo.
I don't want you to live in hiding.
* * *
"To a banquet?"
The next day, Curtis doubted his own ears. He wondered if the person standing before him was truly his younger sister.
"Frey. You want to go to a banquet?"
"Yes. I want to go. I'm at the age where I would have already made my debut, anyway."
"Frey."
A voice filled with worry called his sister's name. As expected, Frey replied firmly.
"Brother. I am already fifteen. I am not a child. There are many people who married at my age."
"But."
High society was crawling with seasoned old foxes and cunning vixens. Frey was too fragile to enter a place filled with such treacherous nobles.
"I think it would be better to go next time. I'll do something else for you instead. How about a diamond necklace? You can even keep a pet if you want."
"Brother."
She had expected to meet with opposition. Frey was conscious of Roxana standing behind her. Since she had already brought it up once, she could not back down.
In the end, she had no choice but to use the ultimate weapon she had brought.
"By any chance, are you ashamed of me?"
"Lady Frey!"
Robert, startled, intervened.
"Even so, you shouldn't say such things."
"I will allow it if you fulfill one condition."
Curtis, cutting off the butler, turned his gaze toward Roxana, who was keeping her eyes modestly lowered. He didn't know what she had whispered, but seeing Frey glance at her, it was clearly she who had moved the innocent girl.
Perhaps feeling his persistent gaze, Roxana slightly raised her bowed head. At the same time, their eyes met. Startled, she averted her gaze. Feeling his mood sour for some reason, Curtis stated the condition.
"If you can dance perfectly within five days."
It was a condition bordering on the impossible. The faces of Robert and Roxana turned deathly pale. How could a lady who couldn't see dance? And she had finally taken an interest in the outside world.
Frey’s complexion turned just as pale.
"What did you say?"
"You don't happen to have a strange habit of stepping on your own hem and falling, or stepping on your partner's feet and toppling over, do you?"
It was a question so sharp it hit the bone. While Robert and Roxana, who had suddenly been caught in the middle of a sibling quarrel, exchanged glances, invisible sparks flew between the two siblings.
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