CHAPTER 107………………………………
“Welcome.”
Pamela, who had been sitting on the sofa, closed the book she was reading. Her face was radiant, showing no hint of fatigue, and just seeing her like that somehow lifted my mood.
Pamela had been quite an interesting woman from the very first meeting. She could be utterly indifferent to things that didn’t interest her, yet incredibly devoted to the things she loved. Contrary to the usual noble notion that aristocrats don’t work, she enjoyed farming. Even now, there was a small vegetable garden in the estate that she tended herself.
At first, it had been a bit unfamiliar, but since we were both sociable, we became close quickly. When I heard she was going to marry Frederick, I wondered what kind of unfortunate girl had been caught—but who could have guessed that the flirt himself would be the one so hopelessly wrapped around her finger?
“How’s Rick? Does he seem to have cooled down a bit?”
It felt like I should at least bring that up.
“I’m not sure, but he did look a bit tired. He went out to inspect the territory, so I suppose he’ll be back by dinner.”
Obviously an excuse. But fair enough—he probably needs some time to collect his thoughts too.
“Hmm, and…”
“You can speak honestly.”
“I heard who that young man is.”
Pamela didn’t go into detail, but Cordelia could easily imagine just how much Frederick must have grumbled.
“Still, I calmed him down well, so don’t worry.”
Even in her forties, Pamela still had that bright, girl-like air about her. Her confident declaration made Cordelia tilt her head slightly.
“Really?”
“Well, it’d be terrible if he got so angry that he collapsed, wouldn’t it? He’s not exactly young anymore.”
Uh, isn’t that man younger than you?
Cordelia gave her a gentle look. Maybe, in a way, they were in similar situations—both living with younger men. Of course, unlike Noah, Rick wasn’t remotely cute! But perhaps he acted differently when Pamela was around.
Anyway—
“You seem to like Noah quite a bit, don’t you?”
Cordelia knew Pamela was naturally fond of people, but even so, her attitude toward Noah had been particularly warm.
Pamela smiled softly and glanced toward Cordelia’s side.
“There aren’t many people who make such fascinating works, you know.”
Following her gaze, Cordelia looked toward the sculpture in the corner of the drawing room. It was indeed skillfully made, though it depicted a god with a hollowed-out heart.
“He certainly has some unique tastes. But why did you buy that?”
“Don’t you think the meaning it holds is interesting?”
To that, Cordelia answered frankly.
“Interesting, yes—in the sense that it’s practically blasphemy.”
Painting a mural in a temple and still daring to make something like that—what nerve. Then again, for someone branded as a traitor, religion probably wasn’t much of a deterrent anymore.
“Well, others might find it grotesque… but I think that’s what makes it beautiful,” Pamela said gently.
“Really?”
Pamela rose, carefully brought the statue over, and set it on the table. Cordelia leaned forward to study it.
The god in the tunic looked perfectly ordinary—except for the gaping hole where the heart should be.
“The gods we see are always depicted as perfect, aren’t they? But the world we live in is far too unfair to have been made by such a flawless being.”
Pamela whispered this like she was revealing a secret, and Cordelia felt an odd sensation wash over her. Pamela seemed eternally bright and carefree, yet sometimes her words carried a surprising depth—like her sister’s.
“Maybe this world was created by something incomplete. A being lacking in mercy… or perhaps a little cruel.”
It was an age of unending misfortune. Even the events of just a few years ago were proof enough. Memories of people who would never return flickered through Cordelia’s mind, leaving a faint shadow of sorrow across her face.
“But somehow, that thought feels human to me. If the world is imperfect, then maybe all its injustices make sense. Don’t you find that oddly comforting?”
It was a deeply philosophical thought—one Cordelia couldn’t immediately respond to. Pamela simply smiled.
“Maybe the person you brought here feels the same way.”
“He’s thoughtful enough that he might… Wait, hold on.”
Cordelia had been answering seriously, but her eyes suddenly caught the title of the book on the table. It was impossible to ignore—boldly printed across the cover:
Night of Frey
Without thinking, she blurted out, “That book…?”
“Oh, this? Lady Kalia brought it from the capital. She said it’s quite popular these days—and really entertaining.”
Cordelia had mentioned to her sisters that she’d soon tell the family what she’d been working on. Still, to find out they’d already planted the seeds… that was both surprising and nerve-wracking.
“Oh… I see. And it’s good?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Pamela nodded eagerly.
“Yes. It’s light reading, but the details about etiquette and noble life are so accurate that I’m sure the author must be a noble. The prose is beautiful, too—I can see why it’s so beloved.”
The praise flowed so easily that Cordelia’s expression began to relax—
—until Pamela added brightly,
“But the author must not like men very much. They seem to have some deep distrust of people!”
If Cordelia had been drinking tea, she might have spat it out. Caught off guard, she barely managed to keep her composure.
“R-really? What makes you say that?”
“It’s hard to explain exactly, but… when describing the male lead, there’s this distinct coldness. And the female lead—she’s enchanted by the man in her dreams, yet there’s this underlying resistance. It’s fascinating.”
Pamela flipped through the book, pointing to a line with her finger.
“For example, here: ‘It is easy to offer praise to anyone, but nowhere in these halls does sincerity reside.’ That’s how the author describes high society.”
Pamela’s analysis flowed so smoothly it was clear she had genuinely enjoyed the book. Did I really write that? Cordelia wondered to herself but kept listening.
“But what I like,” Pamela continued, “is that despite everything, the story still believes people can change. The two who seemed incapable of sincerity end up happy together in the end.”
It felt as if Pamela were exposing a truth Cordelia had long avoided—leaving her feeling both uneasy and strangely relieved. After the rush of conflicting emotions subsided, something calm remained.
Pamela tilted her head at Cordelia’s quiet gaze.
“Lady Cordelia?”
“Well… Pamela. I think… I’ll have something to tell everyone soon.”
Cordelia forced her lips to move, afraid her emotions might spill out. She pressed them down, keeping her tone as steady as she could.
“When that time comes, just listen. Don’t be surprised. That’s all I ask.”
Pamela smiled as lightly as ever.
“Of course.”
Noah showed up later than expected—not because he’d overslept, but because he’d gone out early to walk around.
Cordelia brought him to the castle library. Seeing the endless rows of books, Noah murmured in awe,
“There are so many books.”
“A mere drop in the bucket compared to the royal library.”
“Well, we can’t possibly read them all anyway.”
“Why assume that?”
His eyes widened. “Wait, someone actually has?”
“My second sister. I’ve probably read… maybe a quarter of what she has.”
At her indifferent reply, Noah nodded in understanding, then added,
“Still, I think you’re amazing too, Lady Cordelia.”
“Of course I am. Honestly, my sister’s just a special case. I was quite the reader myself.”
She didn’t bother rejecting the compliment—praise was always sweet.
Cordelia walked toward a sunny corner of the library, pointing near the window.
“I used to sit here and read. It made me think—I want to create stories like these someday.”
Cordelia had been five years younger than her next sibling, Gerania. With such a big age gap, she’d had no real playmates as a child and often entertained herself by sneaking into the library, treating it like an adventure.
“I didn’t only want to write romance stories, though.”
When she first thought of writing, she happened to be obsessed with love stories. But brushing the dust off old memories now, she saw it differently.
“I just wanted to share my imagination with others. Talking to myself all the time felt lonely.”
She had always wanted to tell people about the things she loved—and to be understood in return. That was probably where it all began.
She smiled wistfully. “What about you, Noah? Why did you want to become a painter?”
Noah fell silent for a moment, as though caught off guard. Then, in a low, thoughtful tone, he began.
“I think I was seven. I went to the Grand Temple once and saw a mural there.”
It was an honest confession, spoken lightly.
“From a child’s perspective, the paintings looked enormous. I remember thinking they were the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. I’d never been so completely captivated before.”
He spoke almost absently, as though rediscovering a forgotten emotion.
“I think I wanted to create something that could make others feel the same way.”
As he grew older, he realized just how difficult a dream that truly was.
“Well, didn’t you achieve it? You painted the mural in the Grand Temple yourself.”
“…I suppose I did.”
His answer was oddly flat, so Cordelia waved a hand in front of his face.
“What’s with that dazed look?”
“No, it’s just… I’d completely forgotten. I haven’t had time to think about things like that.”
His gaze drifted far away, lost in memory—until Cordelia gently took his hand, smiling brightly.
“You know, when I first saw that mural, my heart skipped a beat. It gave me one more reason to like you.”
“Really?”
The earnest look on his face was so endearing that Cordelia patted his arm encouragingly.
“So have some confidence. You’re already an amazing man. You’ve achieved so much—why worry so much?”
She did love that he was thoughtful, but she didn’t want him burdened by too many heavy emotions. She wanted them to be partners who shared the weight together.
As she said this softly, Noah covered her hand with his own and replied,
“I’ll try.”
The sunlight streaming through the window, the gentle breeze, the shelves lined with books, and the faint scent of wood—everything formed a serene tableau around them.
Looking at Cordelia, Noah smiled tenderly and thought,
Whatever conclusion I reach, I’ll make sure it doesn’t disturb the peaceful life you’ve built.
