Chapter 39
“Could you scoot over a bit?”
“Oh, sorry.”
Layla suddenly realized she was sitting far too close to Rainier. She scooted her hips back slightly, making the bed shift ever so slightly beneath them.
But as soon as she moved away, Rainier’s expression darkened further. He was the one who told her to move, yet now he looked even more displeased. Wondering if she had somehow offended him, she remembered she had been in the middle of speaking and continued her thought.
“Jewels are like that too, right? When they first come out, they’re expensive, but over time they lose their shine and their value drops.”
Maybe he didn’t like her leaving her sentence unfinished.
“Usually, yes.”
“But jewels with a story behind them actually become more valuable as time passes.”
Rainier stared at her blankly, as if understanding her words but letting them wash over him.
Feeling like she should take the teacup he was holding, Layla extended her hand. But he glanced down at her hand and said,
“It’s still hot. You’ll burn the roof of your mouth.”
Layla was starting to realize that even when his words were curt, his actions tended to be gentle.
“What do you think of my idea?”
“It’s excellent.”
Layla felt unreasonably happy at the rare praise.
“If it’s just a matter of finding similar items, I can get it done quickly.”
“How quickly?”
“A week.”
“My goodness.”
“As for the location, two days at most. I actually bought a shop in a prime spot near the plaza.”
“Really?”
The timing seemed almost too perfect, and she wondered if he was teasing her. But Rainier stirred something in the tea with a teaspoon to check the temperature and replied,
“Yes, really. I was going to use it for something else, but it turns out I don’t need to.”
“What was it originally for?”
At that moment, a voice echoed through Layla’s mind.
‘It would be nice if I had a shop near the plaza.’
‘What kind?’
‘A flower shop.’
“A flower shop.”
She thought his voice oddly resembled the one she had just heard, though the one that mentioned the flower shop had been a woman’s.
Could it be—
“Ah…”
Had he slipped something into her medicine to cause hallucinations? Was that why she was hearing voices?
Suspiciously, she eyed the medicine in his hand. Then, deciding she must have misheard, she pushed the thought aside.
“Let’s just use it temporarily and then turn it into a flower shop. Once Eclair goes bankrupt, we can buy it cheaply.”
“That’s true.”
Rainier nodded, and Layla chuckled at his matter-of-fact attitude.
She already knew from the original story just how filthy rich he was. Setting her up with one or two shops was nothing to him.
He was the emperor’s favored prince.
All the imperial wealth was in his hands.
“Then I’ll count on you.”
“Let’s shake hands after you drink this.”
“Oh, okay.”
She accepted the medicine he handed over, held her breath, and swallowed it in one go. Now that it had cooled to a pleasantly warm temperature, it went down easily enough.
The fishy aftertaste still made her grimace, though.
“Ha.”
She switched the cup to her left hand and extended her right to him.
“I’ll be counting on you, Rain.”
“Likewise. Once I’ve secured the shop and the goods, we can continue our discussion.”
“Alright.”
When Layla replied with a smile, he said, almost without realizing it,
“You’ll be hearing good news soon.”
“What kind of news?”
“I don’t know. Just… good news.”
She thought it was a strange thing to say, but it felt like he was just trying to encourage her, and for that she was grateful.
At the same time, she resolved to make absolutely sure he never got tangled up with Siever.
Of course, if he was in disguise as a commoner, even if he tried to approach Siever, the man wouldn’t bat an eye.
“Here, take this.”
Layla was surprised to see Sonnet walk toward her and Rainier with a determined look.
This was the glass garden she had only just managed to step into.
“Sonnet?”
“Ah, hi, Layla. I just… missed you so much.”
“Oh, goodness.”
Rainier was reading one of the two documents Sonnet had brought.
“Layla, here, take this too.”
“Huh? Oh.”
She accepted the paper Sonnet handed her—it was a doctor’s report.
The report was packed with details about tests Sonnet had undergone at the Imperial Medical Research Hospital for every kind of contagious disease, bacteria, and germ imaginable.
“You… did all this yesterday?”
“Yeah.”
Sonnet had clearly gone through extensive testing. The report, stating that he carried nothing that could infect others, was even stamped with the hospital director’s seal.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
Rainier looked up from the document and said to Sonnet,
“I truly pity the Marquis of Bruce.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean it’s a shame the marquis has a son with such short-sighted thinking.”
His blunt jab made Sonnet scowl.
“What are you—”
“Regardless of your clean bill of health, the young lady is still ill. It’s fortunate you aren’t carrying any pathogens, but she’s very sick all the same.”
Sonnet was so taken aback by the unexpected hit that he couldn’t close his mouth.
“And I pity the young lady as well—for having to keep company with someone so thoughtless.”
“You can’t always be thoughtful. And frankly, I’m touched that Sonnet went so far as to get all these tests for me.”
Layla said this and took Sonnet’s hand. He hesitated, unsure if it was alright to hold hers, but in the end, he tightened his grip as if he didn’t want to let go.
“Sonnet, I’m feeling so unwell… I just want to be with you.”
“If you’re not well, let’s go inside.”
“No, let’s take a walk together.”
At her words, Sonnet nodded.
“Rain, I’ll see you later. I want to spend some time with Sonnet.”
“…As you wish.”
Rainier, masking his disappointment, headed toward the glass garden’s exit. He had already checked the Red Book and knew Sonnet Bruce wouldn’t cause any trouble today.
So he walked back to the mansion with heavy steps.
Once he was gone, only Layla and Sonnet remained in the glass garden.
“Sonnet, why are you shaking so much?”
“Sorry. I wasn’t sure if I could keep holding your hand, but I wanted to… and now that I am, I’m so happy I can’t stop.”
She studied him, wondering if he meant it. The man before her certainly looked sincere.
Which was why she trusted him even less. If he were truly sincere, he wouldn’t secretly meet with Siever or do things that could cause misunderstandings.
“Me too.”
It wasn’t hard for her to lie like this anymore, unlike before.
“Shall we walk a bit?”
“Yeah.”
Hand in hand, they strolled leisurely through the glass garden, Sonnet glancing at her and the hydrangeas.
“They say hydrangeas bloom in different colors depending on the soil.”
“Oh, yeah, the gardener told me that.”
“Layla, I really like blue hydrangeas. They’re the color of your eyes. And the pink peonies, like your hair, are beautiful too.”
Layla smiled at his overly sentimental words.
“I like… sunflowers.”
Sunflowers were, after all, the symbol of the Bruce marquisate.
“Hey, Layla.”
“Mm?”
“When we get married, my father’s going to step down as marquis. I’ll become the marquis, and you’ll… be the Marchioness of Bruce.”
At that moment, Hugo’s words came back to her.
‘He wants to marry you because you’ll die soon after. Don’t you wonder where his lover lives?’
‘The Marquis of Bruce has to marry to inherit his title.’
It seemed those words were indeed true.
Whatever faint affection she had been feeling toward Sonnet was now completely incinerated—reduced to ashes, with not even dust remaining.
Her life was far too precious in this lifetime to throw away on sweet talk.
“I’m looking forward to it—becoming the Marchioness of Bruce.”
“Me too.”
“When’s our engagement?”
Her act had become more convincing than ever. She was determined not to make any more mistakes—she’d made enough in her previous life.
“Well, you know it’s tradition to set the engagement date far off.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
Among nobles, engagements often lasted a long time to allow the couple to get to know each other. Most engagements ended in marriage, and broken engagements were extremely rare.
Rare enough that Layla alone could probably skew the statistics.
“But I just… couldn’t wait…”
Sonnet trailed off, glancing at her as if to gauge her reaction.
Layla smiled brightly at him. Without Rainier around, it was surprising how handsome Sonnet seemed—like a baby’s breath flower suddenly standing out without the roses beside it.
“I set it for two weeks from now.”
Though in her eyes, that baby’s breath now looked like a black rose—with a strange little note tucked beside it.
The black rose’s meaning: obsession. And indeed, he seemed like a man obsessed with achieving his goal.
Sonnet is very suspicious. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be a stalker.