Chapter 64
While Yulia slept, the train pressed on through the night, arriving at dawn in Durken, the capital of the Duchy of Esacudia.
“Welcome, my lord. Madam, this is our first meeting. I am Merwin Hebl, serving the Cluga household here in the Duchy of Esacudia.”
“It’s a pleasure.”
So that was why Henry had insisted she leave not only him but also Lucy behind. The moment they stepped off the train, a small party of attendants approached Yulia and Cayente—two porters, a maid, and, standing ahead of them, a man dressed like Henry, clearly the butler of this estate.
What surprised Yulia wasn’t that the Cluga mansion still stood here, but that people were still working in it. The place had no residents, so why continue paying for its upkeep?
“This is Becky, my lady. She will serve you closely during your stay.”
“I’ll serve you well, madam.”
“Thank you, Becky.”
The maid assigned to Yulia’s side was even younger than Lucy. Small and frail-looking, Yulia doubted she could lift even a modest bag. Yet Becky, cheerful and eager, hefted Yulia’s briefcase and took the lead.
“This way, my lady. The car is waiting outside.”
The journey by train had been a full day and night, and though Yulia had expected a change in scenery, the difference was sharper than she thought. The sky was bright, but the world was washed of color, the air dry and thin, a faint desolation seeping into everything. In the Empire, grasses had grown thick around the tracks, but here only small, gray buildings dotted the land.
Following Becky out of the station, Yulia saw mountains rising high in the distance, cutting across the horizon. In front of the round flowerbed in the square, the streets were crowded with automobiles weaving through nonstop. Unlike the Empire, where cities held traces of nature, here the clatter of engines drowned even the flowers in the beds, stealing away their vitality.
“Is this your first time in the Duchy, madam?”
“Yes, it is.”
Merwin, about Henry’s age but somehow sharper, drew near with polite curiosity. While porters bustled about loading the luggage, Yulia forced a smile to hide her distasteful first impression of the place.
“There is sea, but it’s all sand, ill-suited for harbors. To the north rise mountains, which makes the land a little closed off. With no real resources, factories sprang up early, and the air suffers for it. Visitors from the Empire often say our duchy feels barren.”
“I did think it felt lonely.”
“Indeed. But people live the same everywhere. Please be at ease during your stay.”
“Thank you, Merwin.”
Cayente emerged late, having made sure the luggage was properly unloaded, yet somehow he looked most at home here. Among the expressionless crowds, their steps hurried without pause, he blended seamlessly. Yulia realized anew how much he had changed. He seemed like someone who could live without ever needing a flower blooming by the roadside.
“Should I just load this onto the luggage wagon?”
“Hm? Oh… you brought your cello?”
“I thought I had to practice every day. Was I wrong?”
Caught off guard, Yulia stared at him blankly, the cello slung over his shoulder.
“No, you’re right.”
She hadn’t even known what dresses Lucy had packed—her father’s troubles had consumed her thoughts. Whether Lucy had sent it or Cayente had packed it himself, the sight of the cello warmed her deeply.
“I hadn’t even thought to bring it… Thank you. You can put it anywhere, as long as it doesn’t topple.”
She smiled, and the stern line between Cayente’s brows eased.
Of course—there wasn’t a soul in this world who didn’t need the comfort of a wildflower stumbled upon by chance. Least of all Cayente, who had once marveled at the changing colors of every season. Remembering how he had silently shared his warmth with her last night, Yulia smiled again as he carefully secured the cello in the car.
Perhaps it was foolish to smile when everything was falling apart, but Cayente was right. Crying or worrying wouldn’t change anything. If nothing else, she could be grateful that, as Countess of Cluga, she had tied herself close enough that her family could not wholly abandon her.
“Sit in front.”
“In front?”
“There’s somewhere I want to go before we reach the mansion.”
If only she didn’t have to force herself to be grateful at all… how much better that would have been.
They drove for some time, the cello stowed in the back, until they reached a broad lake called Seton.
“Wow! You mean this isn’t the sea, but a lake?”
In front of the mountains that so often ruined first impressions of the duchy stretched a vast lake that astonished all who saw it. To Cayente, it had always seemed useless, eating up scarce land in an already small territory. But others loved it, saying just looking at it lifted the heart.
“I’ve never heard of this… I’ve never seen such a huge lake.”
Fortunately, Yulia was among those who delighted in the sight. The shadow of her sleepless nights still lingered on her face, but her mood visibly lightened. To Cayente, the lake was worth something after all, simply because her smile had given it value.
“Different kinds of fish are caught here.”
“Fish live in lakes too?”
“Yes. I thought we might have fish for lunch nearby.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Though summers were short in Esacudia, the lake served as a retreat then. Nobles with means could escape elsewhere, but for commoners, this lake was the only reprieve from the heat.
“Fresh fruit for the lady? Or perhaps a warm tea to enjoy while you walk?”
Because there were few sights in the duchy, nobles often came here outside of summer, and vendors gathered to sell snacks and drinks at the entrance. Yulia’s eyes shone at the sight.
“Fruit on skewers! And cups made so light you can just throw them away—this is the first I’ve seen such things.”
Cayente, who once fled this place irritated by pestering vendors, found himself unbothered this time. Yulia’s fascination with the unfamiliar let her forget her worries for a while.
“How much can they really make selling things like this? I saw a little girl earlier without even shoes… If I’d known, I would’ve brought more money.”
Walking along the lake, she sighed that she couldn’t buy more to help them. The people here were pitifully poor—pushed out of the city, living in rough wooden shacks by the forest, surviving off what little they could sell to lake visitors.
Her faint sigh made the purse of coins in Cayente’s pocket feel suddenly heavier. Should he have handed it to her earlier?
“Brother, try this grape skewer. I’ve never… Oh, but you must be used to the fruit here.”
By the time they had walked far enough to reach the quieter slopes, Yulia’s mind was on other things, and Cayente felt a strange relief.
“Can you walk further? The restaurant’s in that village on the far side.”
“Of course. We could even circle the whole lake after lunch. Or just sit here and look at it all day.”
“Do as you wish.”
Whatever eased the shadows beneath her eyes was enough for him. For a fleeting moment, Cayente found her smile brighter than the sunlight sparkling across the rippling lake, and he couldn’t look away.
Perhaps he had meant to comfort her.
After a lunch of freshly grilled fish and a stroll around the lake, Yulia sat beside him once more as he drove, watching him in silence.
“When did you learn to drive?”
“Six years ago.”
“So long ago?”
“I needed to.”
Leaving everything else to bring her here first, vowing not to abandon what family she had left—wasn’t it all a way to console her? It was enough to ease her heart somewhat. Her father’s fate was still a gnawing worry, but if her family’s lives were secure, she could breathe again.
“Isn’t it difficult?”
“You get used to it.”
“I wish the Empire had automobiles. I’ve heard rumors, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen one there. Why is that?”
“There’s no merit. Cars are more expensive than carriages and cost a fortune to maintain. Where carriages suffice, automobiles are a luxury.”
His voice was still cold, and he never smiled at her. Yet she thought maybe he hadn’t truly meant it when he once said he wished for her misfortune. When she smiled at the lake, she’d noticed him visibly relieved, almost glad when her mood lifted.
Perhaps it was simply that he couldn’t stand to see his wife, in his homeland, wandering with swollen eyes from crying.
“Even so, I’d like to learn to drive.”
“You? Why?”
“So I could travel anywhere on my own.”
“No.”
“…No? What do you mean?”
“Going alone—what are you thinking? I won’t allow it. Did you forget? Whoever you meet, wherever you go, you move with my permission.”
At the very least, Yulia could not shake the feeling that Cayente had accepted her as his own.
