Chapter 45 …
The Library
During the three-day banquet, Theobald had barely made an appearance. The only events he attended were the grand feasts on the first and second days, and yesterday’s farewell dinner. If it hadn’t been for the bride’s father, there would have been no need for such a dinner, but he had to maintain Hays’ trust until the very end.
The end. This was truly the end.
They had safely departed Issen at dawn today. By personally seeing off the guests from the north, Theobald had fulfilled his role as the perfect son-in-law. Feeling unburdened, he had entered the library just as dawn broke.
From that moment until now, he had remained there without once checking the time.
The Trisen estate’s library held around 100,000 volumes, most of them on the third floor. The library was part of the lord’s quarters and connected to his study. Theobald had been coming here since he first learned to read, always following his father.
“Look, Theo. How long do you think it would take to read all of these? Even if you read one book per day, it would take over 270 years. We don’t even live a hundred years. Isn’t that tragic?”
Josef was a man who constantly lamented the infinity of knowledge and the finiteness of life. He had hoped that his two sons would read more books than he did, and so he let his young second son handle rare books freely. Whenever the boy immersed himself in impossibly difficult texts, Josef would sometimes come and read the first sentence aloud. From then on, this vast library had become Theobald’s playground.
The library, cherished by generations of his ancestors, was like a vast cavern. The three-story space had high ceilings, with a spiral staircase that reached the top like a conch shell. Hidden within the bookshelves were several secret staircases. Theobald had climbed every one of them countless times.
The library’s windows were for ventilation only; sunlight was strictly forbidden. Thick curtains blocked the light, and candles burned even at midday. It was always so dark that he often lost track of day and night, sometimes staying inside for days. The butler never disturbed him then, quietly placing meals on his desk and leaving.
Naturally, Theobald was always alone here. The library was his space; no one could interfere. Even when standing and reading a book taken from the second-floor shelves, the butler never interrupted with a low announcement:
“Madam requests your presence.”
So when he heard those words, Theobald’s first reaction was surprise—he was astonished that his reading had been interrupted.
Then he tilted his head at the unfamiliar title. Madam. A title he had not heard since his mother’s death.
Ah. My wife. Right, I got married last week.
He lifted his head, the remnants of the book he had been reading floating in his mind. The butler, keeping his gaze lowered, added politely:
“She is waiting at the entrance.”
Theobald did not respond. Every word felt alien.
Waiting. At the entrance. My wife.
The letters and numbers filling his mind receded. The movements of celestial bodies, constellations and seasons, the time the morning star rises—all that he had been concentrating on faded, replaced by her face. Green eyes, reddish-brown hair, pink lips.
Lively lips. Shy lips. Smiling lips.
The sensation of pressing his lips against hers, the warmth he felt.
The associated feelings formed a chain, linking together like gears in motion.
Amid this sudden assault of senses, Theobald began to calculate. Why had she come to see him? The approximate answer came quickly.
It must be because of the wedding gift. The horse he had sent that morning. She must have discovered its meaning.
What expression would she have now? A pale face with lips tightly pressed together? Fidgeting with her hands folded?
Thinking that far, he grew intrigued. He looked forward to seeing her reaction. Somehow, he even felt a little… pleased.
“Show her in.”
He commanded lightly and closed the book he had been holding.
From the second-floor shelves, Theobald watched Lornier descend the stairs.
After the butler disappeared toward the entrance, she appeared. First came the light tap of her footsteps, then the rustle of her dress. A deep navy gown, reddish-brown hair pinned neatly above her neck.
Entering the dim library, she glanced around. Theobald diverted his gaze before she could spot him. He reopened the book he had just closed, leaving it open at a random page, and listened.
The floor was walnut wood. The sound of her careful steps echoed. From the volume, spacing, and direction of her steps, he could tell she was looking for him. He remained silent; even the slightest sound would reveal him.
Before an important conversation, one must make the other person slightly uncomfortable. The more uneasy a person is, the more tension builds, and tension makes it easier for someone to reveal their true self.
So he kept his gaze on the shelves while listening to her footsteps. A hesitant pause, as if startled by the absence of anyone. Silence, debating whether to call out, “Where are you?” Then, soon, he was spotted on the second floor, and her steps resumed.
He waited until she was close enough.
“There you are.”
Only then, once she spoke from close by, did he lift his head and meet her gaze casually.
“What is it?”
He asked briefly, without a smile. Certainly, he did not look welcoming.
Yet Laurelia did not falter. She smiled as if it were nothing, the engagement gift around her neck glinting.
“I… wanted to thank you for the gift you sent me this morning.”
The candlelight from above cast a warm glow on her. A faint blush spread across her pale cheeks.
Theobald said nothing, simply met her gaze.
Thank? Did she still not know the meaning of the gift? Or was she mocking him?
“I wanted to come sooner, but there was breakfast. After that, I walked in the garden with the other ladies, and then met others in the tea room. Only now have I had a chance.”
“……”
“At breakfast, I invited Mrs. von Appel-Brychenbach and Miss Helene. My lord’s aunt and cousin. I also invited Baroness Lepier and her daughter. Their estates are nearby, and the families are close.”
She recited everything precisely, even things he had not asked. Was she seeking praise? Reluctantly, Theobald nodded slightly.
“You know well.”
“I’m studying diligently. There’s so much I need to learn.”
For a moment, the conversation paused.
Laurelia looked down awkwardly, hesitating. She fidgeted with her hands gathered in front of her dress. She carefully pressed her dry lips together. Observing these signs of tension, Theobald waited.
“About the mare you gave me as a gift…”
Just when he thought she was finally getting to the point, she continued:
“I’ve been thinking about what to name her.”
“……”
“How about Stern?”
The conversation took a completely unexpected turn.
When he didn’t answer, Laurelia lifted her head and studied his expression.
“Her coat is white and beautiful, like a star. Stern means star in Trisen, remember?”
Indeed. It was easy to recall. Theobald thought back to their conversation last autumn in the luminous garden and replied dispassionately:
“Not bad.”
“Right? Then I’ll name her Stern.”
She smiled brightly. He did not.
Laurelia stopped speaking again, seeming to hesitate to bring up what remained unsaid. Theobald silently urged her forward by waiting.
She did not keep him waiting long.
“I… want to apologize to you.”
Again, he was puzzled.
“Actually, I misunderstood you a little.”
“……”
“You left so quickly on the first night, and since then… you’ve never come to my bedroom.”
“……”
“So perhaps you’ll laugh, but I thought… you might not love me.”
Theobald, of course, did not smile. He simply listened as the topic veered further from expectation. Might not love me. The vague, circuitous phrasing contained a word that felt entirely foreign.
Love.
“But now I understand. You remembered that I love horses, and gave me a magnificent gift like Stern. More than that, you had the courage to propose. Yet I was making such a ridiculous misunderstanding—I really… have no words.”
He simply listened. The one with no words was him. She had mustered quite some courage, but such a misinterpretation… what could he do?
“But now that I know, it’s okay. Now… I understand everything too.”
Theobald found it fascinating. The more the conversation progressed, the more interesting it became.
This woman truly didn’t know. She knew nothing.
The amusing thing was that there were two thousand nobles in the mansion at that moment. All of them surely knew about the wedding gift. They had attended breakfast, walked in the garden, and had tea, yet none had told her. They had clearly conspired to tease the new lady of the estate.
So whether she knew the meaning of the gift or not was irrelevant to Theobald. The purpose for sending it had already been fulfilled. By making it clear to everyone that the gift was useless to the lady, no one would approach her, and she would naturally remain isolated.
He did not want Laurelia to form alliances with anyone. He wanted her isolated. Completely.
