Chapter 06
Sephine frowned at the news that the situation was not good. Her shoulders sagged at the thought that she might have to leave here sooner than expected. With a sigh, she immediately opened the next letter.
[Dear Miss Buchanan,
Sephine, I’ll start by admitting that Frica is unbearably dull without you.
The first thought I had after sending you to that empty place and coming back was, ‘I already miss her.’ I had to tell you that.
Yes. It’s true. If you were here now, you’d probably hit my back, saying the lunch I ate came back up. Seeing you scolding like that is strangely familiar to me.
I know it’s foolish to waste time and paper writing such things, so let me get to the real reason I’m writing.
First, look at the enclosed notice from the Academy.]
Sephine checked the notice confirming that classes had been postponed indefinitely, then returned to the letter.
[…These days, professors seem completely out of their minds, taking part in protests instead of doing their duty.
The good news is that exams and assignment deadlines are postponed, but the bad news is that conscription might come soon.
War. If someone of my upper-class status should set an example, I’d gladly take up a gun or sword—but it’s not something I welcome.
Anyway, your taking leave seems almost prophetic, as if the situation is adjusting to match it.
Those who dislike the Parliament might fire their guns, but the bullets won’t reach our remote village, so at least one worry is lifted. Read this plainly, and don’t get angry.
If you don’t enlist, I can meet you when you return. So, this time, hope the ruling party wins.
I look forward to your honest reply, written with the desire to see me.
That’s all for now.]
“Mr. Mohave’s house has completely passed into the hands of the Thulego people.”
Mrs. Hethers, a neighbor, had come to visit the Beringheim household after a long time. Lucas, fixing a broken fence, straightened his sore leg and faced her.
“To think he could be so two-faced. I’ve known him for twenty years and never guessed.”
Hannah approached, moving a wooden chair so her husband could sit. When Lucas sat and stretched his legs, Hannah sighed.
“The man who nearly spat blood during the last meeting to avoid falling into their trap… and now money can change his beliefs overnight. The world has really become frightening.”
“It would have been better if he’d sold only my property. Now he’s inciting other villagers too—it’s a spectacle.”
“He’s already sold his fields and crops. Just thinking about where he’ll move with his whole family is depressing.”
Hannah murmured in regret, and Mrs. Hethers clicked her tongue.
“Don’t worry. He got a solid share in the Thulego Railway Company. That means he has somewhere to live even if it’s not Greenwood. That company is well-known, so the shares are valuable. Money isn’t measured by paper here, apparently. Anyway, he can live comfortably.”
“Still, leaving his homeland—what’s the point of all that?”
“Completely switched sides.”
Foreigners often said that people who worked with the land didn’t understand the power of capital. Lucas and people like him were thankfully resistant to such brainwashing.
“No matter how it seems, it’s only a few who’ll fall into the trap. I’m not worried.”
Mrs. Hethers remembered the reason for her visit.
“Ah, my mind slipped. That’s why I came. About the orchard festival…”
“Festival? Oh, yes. Why?”
“They say Karl Sangsan or some company has registered for the festival event.”
“Why bother…?”
“They probably want to appear friendly and get close to the villagers. Like last time, when they somehow entered the town hall during a meeting. So this time, we decided to stick together and ignore them completely. Your household doesn’t need worry, but those men try to approach women…”
Her gaze turned to Sephine, face buried in a book under the porch. Looking at her meant Mrs. Hethers wanted them to keep watch. Lucas bristled, shaking his cane.
“Don’t even speak such unlucky words. Our only heir, Miss Buchanan, has no need to fear.”
Mrs. Hethers waved her hand to clarify.
“Of course, of course. I didn’t mean to doubt her…”
Hannah huffed in agreement with her husband.
“Our lady studied at the kingdom’s top academy. She’s refined and quiet, prefers reading and painting over festivals. She’s no common village girl! Those rowdies—no chance with her!”
“Exactly. Not doubting the lady, just those ruffians. They try to approach innocent village girls, so we must stop them completely. Miss Buchanan is safe, but this is for the village girls.”
Hannah reluctantly nudged her forward. Mrs. Hethers huffed and turned away.
“Such nonsense to hear.”
Lucas grumbled while closing the fence gate. Hannah followed him, admitting quietly:
“We’re the ones getting worked up. There’s nothing wrong with caution.”
“True. Miss Buchanan is to be the wife of the Rohfman count and future senator. It would insult her and our lord for anyone to cause trouble.”
“No need to go that far. Miss Sephine is grown-up and sensible now, not a five-year-ago teenager.”
As they neared, Hannah lowered her voice. Sephine paused, lifting her face from the book.
The girl who used to climb the linden tree and disrupt the nanny had grown into a lovely, mature young lady.
Though not her blood, Sephine treated her almost like a daughter. Now she understood why daughters caused worry until married.
The fact that the half-Gypsy businessman and Sephine already knew each other—that was the source of current concern.
“Don’t worry, Hannah.”
Sephine rolled her eyes, tired from persuading Hannah not to go to the nearby town with the post office.
“I already told you about the time we met on the rocky road. I was so disappointed, I won’t even acknowledge them anymore.”
“Yes, but Greenwood is too small, and they’re everywhere. If they try anything…”
“Because it feels like going back in time?”
Sephine called out Hannah’s unnecessary worry directly, almost laughing at her needless fear.
“Impossible. My father, Lord Buchanan, is behind me. If any rumor reaches him, he won’t sit still. I might be sad about leaving for Frica soon, but I won’t make things happen to take away my rare free time.”
Sephine didn’t include Greenwood’s situation in her reply to the count. Felix wouldn’t know that Heath, who briefly visited, was just a foreigner. Nothing serious had happened that required discussion with Lord Buchanan.
Felix would never dream that she knew that foreigner.
Sephine looked at the hill where the waiting carriage began to appear. She didn’t dwell on future worries; her priority was enjoying freedom while she had it.
Starting with small things: going to the square herself instead of sending a servant, stopping by the post office, choosing books at the store.
Sitting in a long café to read a few pages of the books she picked that day—these were pleasures she could still enjoy.
It would be her way of erasing the unwanted memory of meeting her first love.
