Episode 39

Elouise left the duchess’s villa in a bit of a daze. From across the drawing room, Logan had waited and seemed to have overheard at least some of her raised voice. Even after they boarded the carriage, he waited patiently for her to gather herself before asking,

“Miss… are you all right?”

That brought Elouise back to herself. She turned to look at Logan. As always, he watched her with a blank expression—but this time, Elouise could detect a trace of concern behind it. She gave a faint smile.

“I’m fine. The duchess just isn’t the easiest person to have a long conversation with.”

“…Which is exactly why the young master was so taken with her.”

“…Because she’s difficult to talk to?”

“She’s beautiful, and no one ever quite understands what she’s saying. So apparently, she seems mysterious.”

At that absurd remark, Elouise couldn’t help but laugh. Logan, too, smiled ever so faintly.

“There’s still time before dinner. What would you like to do? Shall we return to the Noskina estate?”

“Hmm, no. I need to buy a few things in town.”

“Very well.”

“Do you happen to know what Madam Noskina likes, Logan?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. Elouise smiled gently.

“Now that I think about it, there’s no reason she should like me, but she’s been nothing but kind. I’d like to give her a little gift.”

“I see… Madam Noskina likes chocolate.”

“Really?”

“She can’t eat much, due to her sensitive teeth, but she enjoys a single piece every afternoon with tea.”

But would there be anywhere in Cliff’s town that sold high-quality sweets like chocolate? And even if there were, surely someone like Madam Noskina would already have access to the best. As Elouise considered this, Logan added,

“Go to the shop at the far end of the main market street. They sell orange zest dipped in fine chocolate once a week. And today happens to be the day. Besides, if it’s coming from you, Miss, she won’t dislike it—whatever it is.”

“…Logan, do you happen to have a knack for reading people?”

Elouise blinked at him, wide-eyed. Logan gave a small shrug.

“That’s probably why the young master pays me such a high salary.”

Elouise laughed. The fact that he always referred to her as "Miss" only when no one else was around proved that Logan, truly, was a secretary worth every coin of his pay.

The orangettes sold at the shop Logan led her to looked delicious—slices of orange, candied and dipped in dark chocolate. Elouise bought them all. The shop owner happily wrapped them up.

“That’s quite a lot. Should I box them all together?”

“No, please divide them.”

“How many ways shall I divide them?”

Elouise counted on her fingers.

“Five.”

“Then I’ll wrap seven orangettes per box—five in total!”

Beaming, the shop owner packed up the remaining sweets and handed them over. Elouise gave him several large coins and waved off the change. Then she returned to the carriage and, as Logan climbed in, handed him one of the packages. He blinked in surprise.

“I’d raise your salary myself if I could, but that’s not really within my authority.”

“…Thank you.”

Logan took the orangette box and carefully placed it into a basket at the side of the carriage. Elouise waited until he finished before speaking, calmly.

“It’s also a bribe.”

“You don’t need to say it. I wouldn’t report anything to the young master regardless. But…”

Logan turned toward her, his eyes uncharacteristically uncertain. Elouise tilted her head slightly, inviting him to speak.

“If the two of you do go through with a proper marriage… the young master will find out, whether you want him to or not.”

“…I know.”

Logan was the kind of person who never said anything unnecessary. He didn’t clumsily warn her about the fickleness of Marcus’s love, or worry about the Hanger family’s objections, or even her own reputation. For that, she was grateful. Elouise gave him a soft smile.

“Perhaps it’s good for him to be surprised once in a while.”

“…”

“Don’t you think? Honestly, sometimes I really find him infuriating.”

“I agree completely.”

Logan nodded solemnly.

“The young master has a tendency to neglect those around him. He often says with a laugh that it’s why he pays me well—to handle it in his place. But some things in life… can only be done by the person themselves.”

“…”

“That’s why I have high hopes for you, Miss.”

“Oh? For me?”

Elouise laughed at the sudden declaration. Logan pushed up his glasses and replied,

“From what I’ve seen of the young master so far, you seem like the only one capable of really landing a blow.”

“You really think I could do that…?”

“I shouldn’t say too much…”

Logan stopped himself mid-sentence. Elouise tilted her head in curiosity, but he shook his head.

“No, never mind. It’s nothing. Just forget it. But… thank you for the orangettes.”

“You’re welcome.”

Elouise figured if someone like Logan chose not to say something, it wasn’t something she needed to know. She nodded easily—and laughed again.

It was almost absurd to think that someone like Logan received boundless trust, and yet his master, Marcus, had a reputation so bad it could barely sink any lower.

---

As soon as she stepped down from the carriage, Marcus was there waiting for her.

He had been watching the carriage approach from a window at the far end of the Noskina estate’s main gate, then rushed down immediately. Seeing Marcus, who proudly wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her down at the entrance, Elouise once again felt like she was raising a puppy.

“I sent the letter via express delivery today.”

“What letter?”

“Oh, Elouise. The letter announcing that you and I are now husband and wife!”

At those words, a chill ran through Elouise’s heart—but she didn’t let her smile fade. Instead, she pulled a small bundle of orangettes from her coat and handed them to him.

“All right, here’s your reward.”

“What’s this?”

“A prize for being a good boy.”

“I’m curious, but don’t you owe me something else more important?”

When Elouise widened her eyes, Marcus tapped his cheek with a sheepish grin.

Elouise blushed at the sight of the other maids standing nearby, but Marcus was relentless. In the end, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek. He beamed.

“What did you write in the letter?”

“I wrote that I had found my one true love. And how beautiful you are. And… how foolish I felt the first moment I saw you…”

“…So basically, you didn’t write anything useful?”

Elouise playfully pinched his cheek. Marcus blinked in protest.

“How can you say that wasn’t useful?”

“Well, you didn’t mention when we got married, whether we held a ceremony, or how your aunt feels about any of this, did you?”

“Oh, that. Those details can be figured out later.”

With that, Marcus again began to recite how beautiful Elouise was and how deeply he loved her.

She had heard it so many times she could practically recite it herself, but strangely, she didn’t mind it. In fact, she felt so full of happiness it almost hurt. She let him ramble on, intentionally not stopping him.

Of course, Madam Noskina had a rather different view.

“I knew this would happen!”

Marcus's aunt, who had been heading to the dining hall early for dinner, had caught the tail end of his proclamation.

From behind them, she exploded in fury, berating her nephew.

“Marcus Hanger! I ought to tear you limb from limb today! You’ve been sneaking around, dodging me, and now this? So it’s true—you haven’t even told your uncle yet!”

“…Well, about that…”

“I don’t want to hear it! You’re nearly thirty and still behaving like a child. I tried to treat you like a grown man, and this is how you repay me?”

The old woman, with surprising strength, stormed over and grabbed Marcus by the ear.

“Ow ow ow! Auntie! At least let go of my ear if you want to talk!”

“You never listen unless someone forces you to. So open those ears and follow me!”

“Save me, El!”

Watching Marcus plead to her so desperately, Elouise gave a wry smile.

“You brought this on yourself. Handle it.”

But Madam Noskina didn’t spare Elouise, either. Hearing her words, the old lady glared and barked,

“You’re coming too!”

“…Ah.”

And so, Elouise ended up seated beside Marcus, treated as an accomplice, enduring Madam Noskina's scolding about immature newlyweds throughout the entire dinner. She had no idea if the food went in through her mouth or her nose.

---

After being scolded all through dinner, she was completely drained.

Elouise pushed Marcus away as he cuddled her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek. Juliet had been at dinner, watching everything without understanding what was going on.

Juliet, after hearing a few lines from Madam Noskina with her mouth agape, had abandoned her meal and crawled under the table to lie on the floor.

Because the maids were observing Madam Noskina's wrath, no one dared intervene. As a result, Juliet’s white indoor clothes were covered in dust across the back.

Perhaps it was fortunate that the old woman had been too distracted scolding the couple to notice Juliet at all.

“Oh, Juliet. If you wanted to play, you should’ve eaten first.”

Juliet had grabbed a peach from the table, and her hands were sticky with juice. Elouise wet a napkin and wiped her hands. When Marcus held out his hands, saying, “Me too, please, Elouise,” she elbowed him away.

“Stop acting like a child and go to your room. I’ll put Juliet to bed and come.”

“Can’t I help put her to bed?”

“You’ll just make everything more chaotic!”

Marcus, mumbling something ridiculous like ‘Even waiting is one of love’s joys’, finally skipped off to his room.

Elouise watched him disappear down the hall, sighed, and picked Juliet up. The girl clung to her neck as she swayed gently in Elouise’s arms.

“Marriage. A man and a woman coming together to start a family, have children, and continue the line.”

“Huh?”

Juliet said it while nestled in her arms. Elouise, puzzled, listened closely.

“Do you hold hands with Marcus Hanger?”

“…Hm? Juliet?”

“Does Marcus Hanger hold hands with Mommy?”

At last, Elouise understood. She had once asked Juliet:

"Juliet, what kind of man would you like to meet, to start a family and have children with?"

"No, not just any man you know. I mean, someone you’d want to hold hands with. Like…"

Elouise adjusted her grip and laughed softly.

Throughout the dinner, while Juliet rolled around under the table, Madam Noskina had gone on endlessly about how sacred marriage was and what responsibilities they should never neglect. Elouise couldn’t even guess how many times the word marriage had been used—hundreds, surely.

“Juliet, would you like it if Mommy held hands with Sir Hanger?”

She asked as they entered Juliet’s room, recalling the time when Juliet had repeatedly uttered Marcus’s name in response to that earlier question.

Back then, I thought it was a disaster. How did I end up loving that man…?

Just then, Juliet answered.

“No.”

“…What?”

“Juliet doesn’t want that.”

Elouise stood her up and looked down at her.

Juliet blinked up with wide blue eyes beneath her tousled hair. As Elouise gently smoothed her hair with her hand, she asked calmly,

“You don’t like Sir Hanger, Juliet? I thought you liked him.”

Juliet said nothing. That silence was its own answer.

Elouise turned her around and began unbuttoning her dusty pajamas. Juliet raised her arms expectantly, and Elouise undressed her quickly. As the girl waited, arms up, she pulled out a clean pair and dressed her again.

“Juliet, do you dislike Sir Hanger?”

Juliet hesitated, then opened her mouth and spoke in Toulous.

“{Marcus Hanger makes Mommy sad.}”

After meeting Abigail, Juliet had started speaking more in Toulous.

Abigail had noted that Juliet was far more expressive in Toulous than the common tongue, and had begun using it exclusively with her. Elouise responded in kind.

“{Why do you think that, Juliet?}”

“{When Mommy is with Marcus Hanger, her eyes look sad.}”

Elouise pulled Juliet into a tight hug, unable to hold back her emotions.

Oh, Juliet. This small child was more sensitive to her feelings than anyone else. A child who once mistook hunger for pain, who used to slap her cheeks because she didn’t know how to call for her—when had she grown up this much?

Elouise felt both sorrow and a deep joy. There were times when she had felt bound by this child, but now… she couldn’t imagine life without her.

“Why would I be sad when I have such a sweet child like you?”

Juliet hesitated, then hugged her around the neck. The warmth of those tiny hands made Elouise’s chest ache. She felt foolish for even briefly considering something else.

For Juliet’s sake, she could do anything.

“{Juliet, do you know the Duchess of Bellona?}”

“{Bellona…? No…}”

Juliet blinked, peering into her eyes. Elouise smiled and said calmly:

“{Evenia.}”

“{Evenia.}”

Juliet nodded as she repeated the name.

The Duchess had claimed to have become friends with Juliet. Since Juliet knew her name, it probably wasn’t a complete lie.

Elouise asked Juliet to open her mouth and handed her a cup of rinse water. Juliet wrinkled her nose but gargled a few times before spitting it out.

Elouise wiped her teeth with a finger, then lifted her into bed.

As Juliet kicked her legs, fussing about not wanting to sleep, Elouise lay down beside her. Juliet nestled her head in the crook of her mother’s arm, the warmth of her breath brushing Elouise’s chest.

It was the same peaceful feeling she always had at the end of a hard day in Maine.

She finally reflected on herself. She had wept to the Duchess about her painful life—but her life hadn’t been meaningless. The tiny breath in her arms was the greatest proof.

“{Evenia, weird.}”

“{What’s weird about her?}”

“{Like a frog…}”

Elouise stifled a laugh. Frogs were one of Juliet’s favorite animals.

“{She jumps close, really quietly… and then flaps her hands and surprises me.}”

“I see.”

There had been times when she thought even the worst husband would be better than none. It was true—she had spent her life alone, and sometimes longed for one.

Everyone knew that Marie, the owner of Brioche, the best bakery in Maine, was beaten daily by her husband. She baked from dawn till night, yet when a rowdy customer showed up, her husband Ben always appeared. He was, if nothing else, fair—hitting thugs just as hard as he hit his wife.

On those days, Marie would pack sandwiches with the finest meats and take them home. Without her husband, the bakery wouldn’t exist. A terrible husband—but one she couldn’t live without.

Still, Elouise thought, stroking Juliet’s hair—

She had lived thirty-two years without a husband.

If she had thirty-two more ahead, could she not live them alone, too?

As long as Juliet was by her side.

And for the life that Juliet has ahead…

She looked down at her daughter, now fast asleep. Juliet hadn’t blown her nose before bed, and a little bubble had formed. Elouise wiped it with her sleeve, smiling wryly.

The Duchess’s sister. The Duchess herself. Elouise disliked them both. A woman who had lived in comfort could never understand her. Honesty may be a virtue, but the Duchess’s so-called candor had felt nothing short of insulting.

And yet, so many thoughts swept through her mind.

What was truly best for Juliet?

Elouise closed her eyes, thinking of Evenia Bellona. For now, all she wanted was to focus on the child sleeping in her arms.

---

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