Episode 30

Why is he sleeping there, though?

Even when Elouise lay down to sleep, Marcus would usually still be up reading, burning through candles unnecessarily, claiming he’d rest a bit later.

Tilting her head, Elouise sat herself at the edge of the sofa beside him. It was wide, but with a full-grown man—especially one Marcus’s size—curled up on it, there was hardly space for her to sit.

“Marcus. Marcus?”

“Mmm…”

“Wake up. Why are you sleeping out here?”

When she shook his shoulder, Marcus’s eyes tightened in irritation before opening groggily a moment later.

“…El?”

“Yes, your wife.”

She smoothed back his messy bangs with a teasing smile, and Marcus grinned drowsily.

“Even if it’s a lie, it’s a nice one to hear. My friends all swore marriage was a living hell, but seeing your face the moment I open my eyes makes me want to march straight to the cathedral and donate a hundred thousand shings…”

He was laying it on thick—and it wasn’t even breakfast time. Elouise briefly wondered if she should have pushed him into the lake the day before. Even if he’d fallen in, he probably would’ve just floated across with his mouth still running.

“What a skilled liar. Get up. Go sleep in the bed.”

“Mmm… Why are you up so early?”

“I wanted to speak with Lady Abigail.”

Marcus blinked himself awake and sat up.

His hair stuck out in every direction, causing him to resemble a ragged street urchin—adorable enough to make Elouise want to kiss him. The thought alone made her want to die of embarrassment.

Unaware of her inner turmoil, Marcus opened his mouth, eyes still unfocused.

“Is it because of the Duchess?”

“Yes. Lady Abigail seems like a good person, and Juliet likes her. But… if the Duchess asked her to do anything strange, I don’t think I can keep leaving Juliet in her care.”

Yawn. Marcus let out a long one.

Just before falling asleep the night before, Elouise had recalled that Abigail was close friends with the Duchess. That realization left her uneasy.

What if the Duchess had already done something through Lady Abigail?

The nightmares of Harris and Murray still haunted her. She had to confront Abigail and dig for answers about the Duchess.

“You’re right. Better to be certain. You’re the kind of person who prefers that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only what it sounds like. Even before we married, you were the sort of woman who drafted a contract first… which, honestly, is kind of adorable.”

“…What did you just say?”

Elouise jerked in surprise. Marcus, mid-yawn, looked up at her sleepily.

“Hmm?”

“…Nothing. I’ll be back later.”

“Alright. If the conversation runs long, send a maid. I’ll have lunch sent for you, Abigail, and Juliet. Ah—she’s already gone.”

Elouise rushed out before he finished, trying to hide her blushing face.

It wasn’t until she reached the hallway near Juliet’s room that she realized something.

She never received an answer as to why Marcus had been sleeping on the sofa this late.

---

Juliet was never one to sleep in. Abigail had adjusted to Juliet’s early schedule and always arrived at her room bright and early. Thanks to the girl, she had started going to bed and waking up earlier herself—and often joked about it.

This morning, Abigail had arrived early again. She and Juliet were getting ready to go crab hunting. There was a rocky area a little ways from the beach, which Andrea had mentioned was a known crab habitat.

The three of them planned to bait the small crabs using crushed sesame seeds, peanuts, and bits of fish. They would gather stones while they were at it. But Elouise’s unexpected visit postponed Juliet’s great crab-hunting adventure by a day.

Juliet instantly sulked.

“Juliet, I’m sorry. Let’s go after lunch, okay?”

“Crabs go to sleep early.”

She meant it would be harder to catch them in the afternoon when the tide came in. Abigail smiled gently and massaged Juliet’s scalp with her fingertips beneath her braided hair. Juliet let out a relieved sigh and closed her eyes.

“But there’ll still be crabs tomorrow! Juliet, how about we play a quiz game instead?”

“Quiz…”

“You finished the book I gave you, right? I’ll ask ten questions from it. If you get them all right, I’ll give you a maple candy. If you get nine, you can build blocks with Andrea! If you get eight…”

Before Abigail could finish, Juliet blinked once and darted off. Andrea called out, “Wait for me, miss!” and hurried after her.

Elouise didn’t even get a word in. She could only let out an admiring breath.

“You’re amazing with Juliet…”

“As I said before—it’s all about knowing the trick.”

Abigail shrugged playfully. Elouise cautiously broached the topic.

“About that trick… May I ask who taught it to you? Was it the Duchess?”

Abigail nodded without dropping her smile.

“Yes. I suppose Eve must have mentioned it?”

“…Not in the most pleasant way.”

Elouise rubbed her forehead. A soft dent formed in Abigail’s plump cheek.

“Sounds like Eve put her foot in again.”

“…Madam Rependers.”

“Oh, please—call me Abigail. I prefer that.”

Though Abigail smiled again, Elouise’s expression remained serious.

She wasted no time laying out her thoughts—her unease with the Duchess’s rudeness and suspicious behavior, and even the doubt she’d begun to feel toward Abigail herself. As she spoke, Abigail’s face slowly grew more solemn.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Abigail. Truly. But I just… I just can’t understand her. And I worry about Juliet…”

“Oh, Lady Hanger. Please don’t say that. You haven’t offended me—really, not at all.”

Elouise’s voice cracked, and she looked on the verge of tears.

Abigail quickly patted her shoulder, trying to comfort her. Her palm was warm. The simple contact calmed Elouise more than she expected. She began explaining, voice stumbling, trying to justify herself.

“You’ve spent some time with Juliet now, so you probably understand how I feel. I’ve never met a doctor who wasn’t… off in some way. They act like they’re the only salvation for their patients, and if you don’t listen, they start speaking like death is imminent. And the Duchess is… well, she’s very strange. Abigail—I know you’re close to her, but please, just try to see things from my side…”

“Of course, Lady Hanger. And I apologize as well. I never truly explained why I offered to look after Juliet in the first place. Actually, I knew about Juliet even before I met her in Madam Noskina’s forest.”

“You… already knew her?”

Elouise blinked in confusion. Abigail looked at her apologetically and said,

“Have you ever been to Madam Noskina’s forest?”

“The forest…? No. I know Juliet likes it, but aside from a brief walk there on our first day here, I haven’t gone back.”

“Well, the weather’s still clear—no rain yet. Would you care to take a walk there with me?”

Elouise had no idea why Abigail suddenly wanted to visit the forest, but she nodded.

After all, the Duchess of Bellona had entered Madam Noskina’s forest twice.

There had to be a reason.

---

The forest was small—no more than thirty minutes to walk through completely. Abigail explained that she had entered it three times since taking charge of Juliet.

“That must have been tiring.”

“Well, thanks to Juliet, I’ve gotten in much better shape. I used to spend all my time drinking, and compared to that, this is practically a wellness retreat. Even my husband approves!”

Abigail laughed brightly as she strolled deeper into the forest.

Elouise glanced around again. The forest carried the vividness of early summer. The breeze rustling through the leaves and the vibrant green of the foliage brought the season to life. The path had been laid with stones for easier walking, and when they reached a fork, Abigail took the right.

“Watch your step. Some parts of the path have holes in them.”

She caught Elouise just as she stumbled and offered a friendly smile.

The path, though well-constructed, was made up of variously sized stones. Some had come loose, leaving gaps. A few were small, but others were big enough to swallow a shoe tip.

Whew. Maybe I should mention to Madam Noskina that this path could use repairs… Elouise was debating just that when Abigail spoke again.

“There’s no need to defend Eve. I’ve been frustrated by the way she talks more than a few times myself.”

“…But you’re friends, aren’t you?”

“We weren’t always.”

Abigail replied casually, walking ahead in quick steps. Elouise found herself unsure how to take that answer.

Sensing her hesitation, Abigail grinned knowingly and continued.

“She’s only resided in Cliff for about three years. By then, news of her husband’s death had spread far and wide—everyone pitied her. But do you know what Eve said to me the first time we met?”

“No…”

“She asked if all I’d learned at university was how to drink. I wanted to strangle her.”

Elouise’s face went pale. Abigail, by contrast, burst into laughter.

“The wives in Cliff didn’t even know I went to university! And she just went and blurted it out in front of everyone. That was worse than the drinking jab! I remember thinking—why was she so polite and sweet to everyone else, but not to me? It got so bad another lady actually asked if I’d done something to get on the Duchess’s bad side.”

“…”

Elouise felt a pang of recognition. That peculiar discomfort when someone speaks differently to you than they do to others—sharper, more cutting, more offhand. The Duchess’s words had always come with an edge. Now it all clicked.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, Abigail pointed ahead.

“We’re here.”

Elouise’s eyes widened. Within the forest was a small clearing where one might rest during a walk. It wasn’t very large.

Just enough space cleared of trees to sit down and relax. And right in the middle of it stood something unusual.

“That’s…”

“Juliet built it.”

Elouise had never seen it before, but it felt oddly familiar—a small house made of stone.

She walked up to it. It was sized just big enough for a child like Juliet to crawl inside. Standing beside it, Elouise felt like a giant next to a dollhouse. But it wasn’t crude or makeshift, nor did it look like a haphazard hut or a cairn. It was a scaled-down replica of a real mansion.

“This is…”

Only now, up close, did Elouise understand why the stone path had holes in it.

The little house was made from all shapes and sizes of stones, fitted together so precisely there were no visible gaps. Every single one had clearly come from the forest trail. And the most surprising part—it had been constructed without the usual dirt or sand to fill the seams. Yet it stood intact, solid.

Elouise opened her mouth, but no words came out. Abigail stepped in quietly.

“She must have had something specific in mind, but Juliet wouldn’t say what it was. Do you know?”

“Yes… I do.”

Eyes wide, Elouise scanned the miniature mansion, then crouched before it. Though it wasn’t flawless—it had been built by hand with found stones—it was recognizable enough.

It was…

“Our home.”

The Starwood estate.

---

Prev || Toc || Next