"However."
"However?"
"We cannot force this upon someone who is strongly resistant to it."
The mood shifted among the people at the follow-up statement. Curtis furrowed his brows at the ambiguous remark.
"So, what are you suggesting? Give me the conclusion."
"St. Benedict’s Day is in one week. The village chiefs from other manors—not those governed by knights entrusted with authority by Your Excellency—will be coming up to hold services. Why not ask for their opinion?"
It was a solution he hadn't considered. The knights, eyes wide, nodded one by one.
"That... is a decent idea."
"Indeed. It is objective and reasonable."
"Since opinions here are split down the middle, we can decide based on the majority vote of the village chiefs."
The atmosphere was one of general consensus. It was a release from the tedious meeting. Curtis stretched his long limbs and rose from his seat, brushing off his clothes.
"Fine. Let’s do that. Meeting adjourned."
The person directly involved was the first to leave the conference room after the dismissal. Robert followed close behind. It was a short while later that Curtis, who had been heading toward Roxana’s room, suddenly stopped.
"Where is Roxana?"
"She is in the kitchen, sir."
"Buying herself trouble from the crack of dawn."
Curtis clicked his tongue and headed quickly toward the kitchen.
"Roxana."
Unlike his usual brash approach, he opened the door quietly, and the kitchen was silent. It was still before the head chef and the kitchen maids had begun their work. The room was cluttered with beans and kitchen utensils. He looked around, but the person he sought was nowhere to be seen. As Curtis stepped further inside, his eyes landed on a woman slumped over the prep table, eyes closed, sitting on a stool.
"Roxana?"
He called her name, but there was no answer; she must have been fast asleep.
"I told her to flirt and whisper sweet lies, yet she’s off doing something completely different."
Curtis narrowed his eyes and carefully pried the kitchen tool from her grip. At that moment, a murmuring voice reached him.
"No..."
He was startled, thinking she had woken up, but it was merely sleep-talking. Curtis shook his head and, just as he lifted her into his arms, she spoke again.
"Mother..."
The tiny, barely audible voice pierced his eardrums. Roxana buried her face in Curtis’s chest.
"Take me away... Please... Do not leave me here..."
"..."
Curtis froze like stone at the tear-choked voice. From her twisted childhood to their reunion, Roxana had always been a resilient woman who never shed tears in front of him. Seeing a side of her he had never known—and could never have known—felt as if someone had gripped his heart and squeezed it tight. While he was puzzled by this unfamiliar pain, someone entered through the open kitchen door.
"My... My Lord?"
It was one of the maids who was close to Roxana. Alice, was it? Curtis, having cleared away the questions he held just moments ago upon seeing a familiar face, raised his index finger to his lips.
"Shh."
"..."
Alice nodded repeatedly in response to the gray eyes looking down at her. She had known he was handsome, but seeing him up close, he was truly a striking man. His sharp features gave him an unapproachable air, but for some reason, holding Roxana in his arms made him look a little softer than usual.
She was giddy at having witnessed such a rare sight, but Curtis simply walked past her while still holding Roxana.
"He really has nothing to do with the Princess after all. I must tell Kesi at once."
Alice, finally coming to her senses, hopped away in excitement to find Kesi.
* * *
Frey showed a very interesting reaction to the minor stir within the castle.
"So this is that bean dish? It looks different than I expected."
Frey tilted her head, her fingers tracing the dish that had been cooled to a warm temperature.
"Do I just scoop it up with a spoon?"
"It’s a bit tastier if you add a little soy sauce."
"Good. Then I’ll have a bite."
Roxana silently placed a fork in Frey’s hand and had her pick up a small piece of the tofu dish. Frey dipped it in the soy sauce, put it in her mouth, and chewed and swallowed in silence. Roxana swallowed hard, waiting for the verdict.
"How is it...?"
"Hmm."
Frey seemed to ponder for a moment before breaking into a bright smile.
"It’s better than I thought! I never imagined beans could have a texture like this. It’s amazing!"
It was a success, thankfully. Roxana let out a sigh of relief and smiled back.
"I tried many different things. I’m glad you like it."
"Roxana, you really are amazing."
"It’s an idea anyone could have had. It was only because I was in the convent that I thought of it."
"That’s right! The convent."
Frey’s face lit up, and she reached out to find Roxana’s hand. Roxana gladly took it.
"I heard a while ago. You were at Angela Convent for a while, weren't you? Are the sisters doing well? And Mother Superior? It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen them. I should have visited when you made that stew."
"..."
"They’re all still the same, right? I miss them so much."
As Frey continued to speak, Roxana’s head bowed lower and lower. Under the persistent questioning, Roxana suppressed the emotions surging up to her throat.
"Yes. They are well. They must miss you, too."
"It’s too cold right now, so once the weather warms up and spring comes, I’ll have to go visit!"
Frey laughed at the happy news and made a vow.
"You’ll come with me, won’t you, Roxana?"
"..."
"Yes?"
"...Of course."
Roxana managed to reply and quietly changed the subject.
"By the way, what do you do for St. Benedict’s Day?"
"Roxana, you really did come from the countryside. To ask something like that."
Frey teased her before explaining kindly.
"It’s a memorial day to honor the martyr St. Benedict. The village chiefs and knights from each manor come up to hold services and have a banquet with the Lord. It’s essentially meant to foster interaction."
Roxana listened intently to the calm explanation. Compared to her childlike behavior in the past, Frey was a quite clever and insightful girl.
It was a waste that such a smart girl was excluded from the castle’s management simply because she could not see. Was there no way to change that?
While she was lost in thought, Frey’s words pulled her from the swamp of her musings.
"I hope the village chiefs take your side."
"Yes. I hope so, too."
Roxana smiled shyly at the heartwarming support. Since her position had been elevated from maid to mistress, many things had changed. Her clothes, her food, her room. There were many gazes whispering when they saw her, but she no longer cared. Her own people—the ones who truly mattered—believed in her, supported her, and held her up.
It was a fact she had realized after reconciling with Alice and Kesi. Whether she was a Marquess’s daughter, a nun, or a mistress, she was still herself. She wanted to live as herself, without being swayed by the gazes and judgments of others. She would perform as many good deeds as the number of evil acts her father had committed. That was a vow that had nothing to do with Curtis or Frey.
"Say, Roxana."
Just as she was thanking the faces around her, including Frey, a subtle voice called out to her.
"Yes?"
"Though he has already left, my brother and the Princess are not in any kind of relationship."
"..."
The tone was unusually cautious, as if she had chosen her words very carefully.
"If it is because of status, you must never yield my brother to her."
"Frey..."
"I don’t actually know what kind of relationship you and my brother have. Since I cannot see, I don’t know how you look at each other. But you said it yourself. Just because one cannot see, it does not mean one cannot see everything."
It was when they had been invited to Baroness Philomena’s banquet. Roxana listened quietly to Frey’s words.
"One thing is certain. My brother needs you, Roxana. And you need my brother. You two are in a relationship where you need each other. You must not be apart."
Roxana dropped her gaze at the firm insistence. No. It was not something so sweet.
They were in a relationship where they choked each other. He found solace in tormenting her, and she eased her guilt by suffering at his hands. Curtis was affectionate, but it was all a lie. That was the nature of their relationship. A relationship that feigned peace on the outside, but was the deepest hell if one looked within.
"Promise me. Promise you won’t yield my brother to the Princess."
"I understand. Anyway..."
Roxana managed to pull up the corners of her lips and naturally changed the subject. She would be discarded long before any yielding could happen. Roxana thought Curtis’s whim would not last long. At most, it would last until next year. Perhaps, even if she couldn't return to the convent, she might be able to open a small pharmacy somewhere. A life where she helped the weak with the meager skills she possessed during the day, and prayed quietly for the Russell siblings at night.
Such a life seemed like it would be fine.
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