Chapter 12: A Villainess Fantasy Simulation? (3)
But as I rounded a wall thick with rose vines, what I saw was entirely unexpected.
“Huh?”
Someone was trimming the rose bushes. They had a glowing portable lantern like mine hanging beside them, and were humming while snipping off withered leaves. Though their gloves and work clothes looked a little different in design, it was clearly the uniform of someone who worked at the estate.
That’s when I realized: he must be the gardener!
No wonder I couldn’t find him when I was looking all over that day. He was out here working! But… why is he doing it in the middle of the night?
Wait a second. Could it be that he’s forced to work at night just to avoid running into the garden’s aristocratic patrons? Given the era, I doubt labor rights are much of a thing yet. It’s entirely possible. Oh dear.
Moved by sympathy, I quietly approached. I wanted to offer some encouragement, and if he was okay with it, maybe I could even suggest shifting his work hours to the daytime. But the closer I got, the more something struck me.
Wait a minute. He’s just a kid.
Seeing the gardener’s unmistakably youthful face, I nearly staggered from the shock. I mean, come on. A minor working alone at night outdoors? Isn’t that a bit much, even by this world’s standards?
“Um, excuse me.”
In the end, I addressed him with a voice that was far from confident. He continued working for a moment as if he hadn’t heard me, but soon noticed the light and turned in my direction. He must’ve thought he’d misheard at first.
His hat cast a shadow over his face above the nose, but I could see a faint smile on his lips.
“You’re Miss Aubert, right? Good evening.”
“Uh… yeah. Good evening.”
I nearly asked, ‘Do you know me?’ But of course, I live in the mansion whose garden he manages. He probably recognizes my appearance at the very least. Or maybe we’ve met before and I just don’t remember.
In any case, the gardener gently tapped one of the round rose blossoms he’d just finished tending and asked, “What brings you to the garden at this hour? Didn’t anyone try to stop you?”
“Haha, well… I just quietly slipped out, so I doubt anyone’s noticed.”
Wait a second. Could this boy be a disguised assassin? And now that I’ve told him no one knows where I am, he’ll strike!?
…No, that’s ridiculous.
He simply nodded.
“I see. Do you have some business in the garden?”
If I said I got lost on the way to the kitchen, that’d be a total letdown. Let’s improvise. Maybe I can ask him about garden maintenance tips instead. Look at me, dear handsome fiancé, I’m doing all this for your happiness. You’d better bring me a feast next time.
“Oh, nothing in particular. I just thought I’d admire the roses. They’re especially beautiful here. Do you have a secret to making them look this good?”
“A secret?”
The boy looked over at me.
“Yes, there is one.”
“O-oh. I see. So there really is a secret, huh.”
I wasn’t expecting such a confident answer. Normally, someone would say, ‘Well, I wouldn’t call it a secret, but I do have my own little tricks. Haha!’ Isn’t that how these conversations usually go?
He’s so young, yet so bold. It’s kind of impressive.
“It’s this…”
“Yes?”
“Consistent attention.”
That was surprisingly by-the-book.
“If you always know what condition your roses are in, you can always care for them in the best possible way.”
What is this, a textbook answer for getting a perfect score on an exam? ‘Focus on the basics, review often.’ Easy to say, but only those blessed by the fairy of diligence can actually pull it off.
I asked, with a little less enthusiasm, “Do you think… people can really manage that?”
“I’m not sure. But I can.”
Are you… the rose fairy?
Wait. This is a romance fantasy, right? It’s possible. Maybe in this world there are secret fairies, and this kid is a flower spirit or something. Maybe my fiancé is actually a fairy of faces or something too. That’d explain how someone that attractive thought it was okay to give me that sad excuse for a sandwich.
“Wow, you must be a born gardener.”
My thoughts were spiraling out, but my voice was calm and full of praise. Years of pretending to pay attention in lectures had trained me well in faking sincere reactions.
The boy turned back to the roses and murmured softly, “Maybe.”
He must be feeling shy. It was kind of cute. I decided not to sell my stocks in the ‘he’s secretly a rose fairy’ theory just yet.
“You must really love roses.”
Seeing how he couldn’t take his eyes off them, I asked the obvious. A faint smile returned to his lips.
“I haven’t actually been working with roses for that long.”
That made sense. He looked too young to have been doing this for years.
“At some point, I just kept hearing about roses more and more, so I got curious and started learning about them.”
Maybe that was when roses became trendy in this estate. It’s always good to strike up a conversation with someone about the next big thing.
“So, that’s how you came to love them?”
“Not exactly. But it did spark my interest.”
He picked up his lantern and brought it closer to the flowers. The rose petals glowed a warm crimson in the light.
“You’ve probably seen roses with dewdrops on them at sunset before. They shine like delicate crystals, don’t they?”
His voice grew slower, as if picturing it in his mind.
“That’s why I like to water the roses late in the afternoon.”
His tone was almost dreamy. Was this what it meant to be truly passionate about something? I felt a strange kinship with him, almost reached out to pat him on the shoulder.
Wait a second. Something doesn’t add up.
If he waters them in the late afternoon… that means he’s in the garden at that time.
“But I don’t think I’ve ever run into you around then…”
I furrowed my brow, recalling the time I scoured the garden at sunset looking for the gardener until my feet ached. The boy laughed.
“Haha, just because I like doing it doesn’t mean I do it every day. You’re not supposed to water roses too often.”
“O-oh, I see.”
Sorry. I’m just ignorant about these things.
“So, do you usually come out to the garden this late at night?”
“I tend to, yes.”
“Still… that’s a bit much. It’s okay to come out during the day too, you know.”
At this gloomy hour, something could go wrong. If it came to it, I was ready to have a word with the butler. But before I could say more, the boy shook his head.
“I just find nighttime more comfortable… for now. But I do come out during the day sometimes. I hope you’ll say hi when you see me then.”
Even if you’re fine with it, I’m not. I had every intention of speaking to the butler first thing in the morning, but I simply nodded to avoid making this kid uncomfortable.
“Of course. What should I call you?”
“Just call me Sunset.”
He answered without hesitation. I was floored.
“S-Sunset?”
“Yes.”
“…Do you have an older sister by any chance?”
The boy tilted his head, and I started explaining about the Sunset I knew, a girl about my age who worked at the estate. Upon hearing that, he shrugged.
“Ohh. Sounds like we’re from the same family.”
“So, she’s your cousin?”
“She’s not my sister, we’re the same age.”
So this young gardener wasn’t as young as I thought. With their relationship now clear, I let out a sigh. The Sunset I knew had mentioned that her name was a nickname, probably derived from her surname. That would explain why this boy, likely sharing the same surname, also asked to be called Sunset.
Wait a second. Does that mean he’s a significant character too? A relative of a poisoning suspect? That screams critical clue, helper or possibly even an obstacle. He’s even around my age, so could he be a potential second male lead?
…But just imagining that, based on his looks, felt like a stretch. I dismissed the idea.
“Ah, it’s about time. I should head in now, Miss Aubert.”
The gardener boy gathered his lantern and strapped the pruning shears to his belt. I paused my spiraling theories and saw him off.
“Ah, okay! See you again sometime.”
“Yes. Oh…”
He raised his left hand and pointed into the dark beyond the garden.
“The mansion’s that way.”
