Chapter 92
Laughter finally burst from her lips, and a naturally sarcastic tone followed.
It was absurd and ridiculous to think they had lived an entire month without a single maid, even though they had received help from the cruise staff.
This was all because of that girl with the face of Janus.
(TL/N: She meant two-faced)
Thinking of her impudent stepdaughter who revealed her true colors after catching a man, the Countess glared at her husband with sharp eyes. However, the man himself was just looking around at the line of carriages.
“The hotel staff should have come to meet us. Ah, there they are. Hey!”
They had reserved a carriage to take them from the dock to the hotel. Spotting an employee in uniform, Count Vansen waved his hand widely.
“Over here, over here!”
“Are you Count Vansen, sir?”
As the employee approached and asked, Count Arnold Vansen nodded, looking relieved.
“Yes. Go over there and bring our luggage.”
“Pardon?”
“And bring a newspaper for me to read in the carriage too. Let’s go, dear.”
Speaking lightly, the Count took his wife and strode toward the carriage.
There wasn’t a single servant in sight carrying bags, and yet he told him to fetch the luggage…
The hotel employee stood blankly for a moment, then hesitantly approached the place where the luggage from the cruise had been gathered.
Servants busily moved about, collecting their masters’ luggage, but no matter how long he waited, no servants seemed to be assisting the Count and Countess.
In the end, he was being told to go fetch the bags himself.
Turning his head toward the shameless couple boarding the hotel carriage, he sighed.
“Here is today’s newspaper.”
Wiping sweat from his sleeves, the employee managed to maintain a smile as he handed over the daily paper. Sweat had poured down like rain as he loaded five large suitcases, but not a single word of thanks was heard.
The Count just gave a brief hum and took the newspaper, and the employee, cursing under his breath, climbed up to the coachman’s seat.
Before long, the hotel carriage left the port and began running along the main road.
In the sweltering heat, the Countess fanned herself irritably and complained.
“Arnold, let’s just go to my family’s home. Without maids, it’s too inconvenient.”
“…”
“I’ll write a letter as soon as we get to the hotel—”
“Dear.”
Ignoring his wife’s words entirely, the Count muttered. His eyes were glued to the newspaper in his hands.
“We can’t go to the hotel. We need to go home.”
“What are you talking about? We’ve booked the suite for an entire week.”
With trembling hands, even in the middle of summer, the Count handed over the newspaper. In the Countess’s brown eyes, the name of her stepdaughter—who had caused all this trouble—was reflected.
════════════════════════════════════
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹
The mining village was much more developed than expected. It wasn’t comparable to a city, but it wasn’t quite countryside either. Sturdy stone buildings stood all around, and people wearing traditional Bower clothing mixed evenly with younger generations dressed in Western fashion.
Hermia looked around the lively street scene with wide eyes and tugged at Walter’s sleeve.
“So, you’re saying all of this land belongs to you?”
“It’s our land.”
At his perfect answer, her face lit up like sunshine. The gloom that had lingered before arriving here was long gone.
She had gained one more day.
Today, they would just tour the village and the mine, and catching the writer was postponed until tomorrow.
Learning that he was the grandson of someone named Margaux Buzam turned out to be a bigger breakthrough than expected.
Walter’s subordinates, who had infiltrated the village in advance, easily discovered her residence. And there, they even found Nesser Buzam.
They also heard that the author walked around town confidently, as if he weren’t a wanted fugitive.
The reason for his boldness was unclear, but they had already marked his trail, so there was no rush. The writer was already within Walter’s grasp.
They could seize him whenever they wanted. Walter gave his men the order to wait. He seemed to want to explore the mining village, which he was visiting for the first time, a bit more thoroughly.
So, she had gained an extra day, and Hermia couldn’t help but feel cheerful.
‘Last night, we had to sleep as a group, so I didn’t even get a moment alone with him.’
They had managed to change inns, but due to the shortage of rooms, Hermia had to share one with Emily and the maids.
That had been the cause of her lingering gloom.
Tonight, they would stay at the hotel as planned, giving her one last chance to enjoy Walter’s curse to the fullest.
That was why she was smiling wickedly now.
“Oh! Roasted chestnuts!”
A familiar scent drifted in from somewhere, and before she knew it, she spotted a street vendor roasting chestnuts over a brazier.
Hermia ran over, and Walter naturally followed. Behind them trailed attendants, guards, and village representatives—dozens of people.
She was used to attracting crowds by now. Approaching the vendor, Hermia asked cheerfully,
“How much for a bag?”
“Ah… uh, just take it, please.”
The merchant flinched when he saw the Duke, the village chief, and the crowd that had gathered like a swarm of clouds. He spoke up, but the Duchess was firm.
“You can charge a little extra. Just sell five bags.”
“Ah, then… it’s five thousand Persos.”
“At one thousand Persos per bag, that’s much cheaper than in the capital.”
The merchant gave an embarrassed smile and began picking up the well-roasted chestnuts with tongs, putting them into small bags.
The roasted chestnut bags went to Emily, the maids, Walter, and Hermia. The village chief, who had subtly joined the line, smacked his lips in disappointment and left empty-handed.
Hermia took off her gloves, quickly peeled one, and popped it into her mouth. It had been years since she’d had street food, so the familiar taste moved her. Just as she was savoring it, she felt someone’s gaze.
Walter hadn’t even touched his bag and was only watching her.
“Do you not like roasted chestnuts?”
“I like them.”
Though he said that, he still didn’t look like he intended to eat them.
Ah. Maybe peeling the shells is a hassle for him.
With so many eyes watching, it probably didn’t suit the Duke’s dignity to fumble with chestnut shells. Realizing this late, Hermia scolded herself inwardly. She peeled one and popped it straight into his mouth.
Walter’s eyes widened slightly as he accepted it, startled.
His expression stayed surprised the whole time he slowly chewed, making Hermia burst into a laugh.
“You’ve never had something like this before, have you?”
“I’ve eaten plenty of chestnuts. Marron soup and marron terrine often appear at the table.”
What is he even saying? She looked at him with suspicion and asked again.
“You’ve never had fire-roasted chestnuts with the shell on, have you?”
“Marron paste on dessert also—”
“No, I’m asking if you’ve ever eaten roasted chestnuts.”
“I haven’t.”
He could’ve just said so from the start. Clicking her tongue softly, she peeled another and firmly pressed it to his lips. He obediently accepted it again. Laughter from the maids sounded from behind.
After sharing two bags like that, their fingertips had turned black. Walter used a handkerchief to wipe the soot from her hands, while Hermia, even then, was eyeing the next snack she wanted.
After looking around the whole market, she parted ways with Walter. He was headed to the mining site, and Hermia to a teahouse.
She was greeted by staff in long, flowing clothes, surrounded by colorful tapestries and ornate murals.
Following the guide, Hermia sat at a round wooden table where the tree rings were still visible. Shortly after, four ceramic cups were placed on the table.
As expected of a place that served Bower tribe’s traditional tea and snacks, the atmosphere was unique. But judging by the fact that all the customers were tourists, it seemed locals didn’t really come.
Hermia took a sip of the bitter and astringent tea, shuddered, and put the cup down.
“When was the meeting time again?”
Emily, who had also taken a sip and briefly grimaced, quickly composed herself and took out a pocket watch.
“It’s eleven o’clock, so it’s not long now. Oh, look over there!”
Right after checking the time, Emily stood up. Following her gesture, Hermia’s eyes sparkled with delight when she saw the figure.
“Miss!”
She jumped up and called out. At the entrance, Nora, who had been peeking in, met her eyes.
Hermia’s mouth dropped open in joy and surprise, seeing her in regular women’s clothes instead of a military uniform.
Nora, too, was smiling brightly as she hurried over.
“Careful, Lieutenant.”
Behind her was Henry. It had been a while since she’d seen their faces, and Hermia couldn’t stop smiling.
As Emily and the maids moved to a nearby table, Henry and Nora took the seats across from Hermia.
Nora’s bobbed hair, which had once reached her jawline, was now longer and neatly tied back. With a face full of emotion, she clasped Hermia’s hands.
“Congratulations on your marriage! You look much better than two months ago!”
“It’s already been two months?”
Hermia was also surprised to realize it had only been two months since she last saw Nora. A chuckle escaped her lips.
‘Well, the proposal and wedding happened so quickly it’s no wonder.’
She had first met Walter in late spring, the engagement was in early summer, and now they were on their honeymoon before summer even ended.
Hermia gazed at Nora, wrapped in a strange sense of wonder.
Was it really possible to feel so close to someone she had only known for a season? When did she stop feeling uncomfortable or awkward being alone with Walter and instead begin to want it?
She had been enjoying married life more than she ever expected. She liked her husband more with each passing day and leaning on him felt natural now.
“…But I shouldn’t.”
She muttered this realization just as a teahouse staff member approached with an order pad. They seemed ready to take a new order.
“You’re having black tea, right, Lieutenant? And just one glass of lukewarm water, please.”
As Nora spoke, the server smiled and nodded. Just as she was about to turn away, Henry suddenly spoke.
“Do you have any tea that’s good for pregnant women?”
