Chapter 5
It was impossible to tell whether the surveillance was meant for Isabella—or for Claire herself.
Perhaps both.
Claire recalled the proper rules of service that Angela had taught her.
The duty she had been given upon contracting with the Voltier household was simple: to attend to Theodore Voltier without causing him any discomfort.
If it becomes harmful to the young master, I’ll deal with it then.
Ignoring the presence she felt, Claire quietly pushed the trolley forward.
It had already been two months since Claire began working at the Voltier estate.
There had been a small change in Theodore’s daily life—he, who used to shut himself away in his room. Claire had begun taking him out into the garden.
Reckless, if you ask me.
What, take Young Master Theodore to the garden? That’s idiotic. He’s easiest to manage when he stays in his room.
When Claire first requested a wheelchair to take Theodore outside, the head butler and every servant had expressed their disapproval.
But Claire found their reaction difficult to understand.
If someone stays locked in a dark room with blackout curtains all day, even a sane person would go mad.
Watching Theodore live like a caged beast in his room, Claire had felt the need to improve his environment.
The young master’s condition has been good lately. I believe there will be no major issues even in the garden.
Hmm…
The head butler reluctantly granted permission.
Claire’s expression hardened as she bowed and returned to Theodore’s side.
Acting as if he were the master himself.
The Count of Voltier—the head of the household and the siblings’ grandfather—had long yet to return from the border. Among those remaining in the estate, the highest-ranking individuals were Theodore and Isabella. Not the butler.
Like a fox playing master in front of a weakened beast.
It was almost laughable, the way a servant acted as though the master needed permission to move.
Arriving at Theodore’s door, Claire gave a light knock.
“Young Master, it’s Claire. I will come in.”
This was their private signal—the start of their “engagement.”
The moment Claire stepped inside, Theodore, consumed by madness, would rush at her.
As expected, there’s a pattern.
Once Claire subdued him and waited for a short while, the murky blue in Theodore’s eyes would regain clarity, and he would become docile again.
Is this really ordinary madness?
Persistent, repetitive episodes of mental disturbance. Claire didn’t know much about mental illness, but she suspected that improving his environment might help ease Theodore’s condition.
“Young Master, how about going out to the garden today? I’ve prepared a wheelchair outside, so there will be no inconvenience in moving.”
Theodore, wrapped tightly in blankets and laid upon the bed, widened his eyes.
For the briefest moment, Claire saw a flicker of anticipation in them. But it quickly faded, replaced by dull resignation as his eyes slowly closed.
“How ridiculous. You want me to go out looking like this?”
His voice, now free of madness, was cracked—like someone who hadn’t had water for days.
“You are not unsightly.”
Claire spoke firmly.
“And when stepping into your own garden, is there really a need for formal appearance? It’s just a simple change of pace.”
She paused briefly before adding,
“And I’ll make sure to handle your episodes. Why not trust me just once?”
Theodore opened his eyes again.
Without turning his head, he shifted his gaze toward her. Her light brown eyes looked down at him calmly.
She seemed the same as always, yet there was a quiet confidence about her that eased his tension.
“…Do as you wish.”
The words slipped out softly. Even Theodore seemed slightly surprised at himself and promptly closed his eyes again.
“Yes.”
With a satisfied expression, Claire began preparing for their outing.
The spring sunlight was warm.
Flowers that had endured the winter swayed gently in the breeze, spreading their fragrance.
“It’s beautiful.”
Pushing Theodore’s wheelchair, Claire slowly took in the surroundings. Her only experience with flowers had been wandering through wild blooms in the mountains, so a proper garden like this felt entirely new.
Theodore said nothing, regardless of Claire’s admiration, but she continued speaking anyway.
“That yellow flower smells nice.”
A delicate yellow blossom atop a slender green stem. The field of yellow flowers reminded Claire of scattered stars.
It was then that Theodore, who had remained silent until now, spoke.
“Freesia.”
“…Pardon?”
“That flower’s name. It’s called freesia.”
“Ah, I see. That’s a lovely name.”
It was a very short exchange.
Yet Claire was inwardly surprised that she had managed to have such an ordinary conversation with him.
Not ‘die,’ ‘get lost,’ ‘idiot,’ or ‘annoying’—he can actually say normal things too.
For a fleeting moment, it felt like a prickly raccoon that had always bared its teeth had finally accepted food from her hand.
Feeling oddly proud, she slowly pushed the wheelchair along the freesia-lined path. The flowers were fragrant, and the air was warm.
It was only natural that Theodore, seated in the wheelchair, began to nod off.
Oh. He’s asleep.
Claire quietly looked down at his sleeping face.
Inside the room, he would lunge at her whenever their eyes met, so she had rarely had the chance to observe him closely. But now that she did, he was undeniably handsome.
Maybe he’s gained a bit of weight lately—he looks even better.
With the usual tension gone from his furrowed brow, his defenseless face appeared almost innocent.
I’m glad he can sleep comfortably.
She had seen him sleep many times in the dark bedroom, but this was the first time he looked so relaxed and at peace.
I should bring him out to the garden more often.
As expected, sunlight was the best medicine.
Claire continued strolling through the garden, pushing the wheelchair until Theodore woke.
From the moment Theodore stepped outside, the servants had vanished as if he were some kind of plague. Ironically, it allowed the two of them to enjoy a peaceful moment alone.
Even the pond is elaborate.
Claire’s gaze drifted to a pond on one side of the garden. It was shallow—only about shin-deep—and decorated with charming little statues.
As she leisurely admired them, she soon noticed someone hiding in the garden.
Turning her head slowly from the statues toward the trimmed shrubs, Claire spoke softly,
“Have you come to see the Young Master, Lady Isabella?”
“Eek!”
A hiccup-like gasp came from behind a neatly pruned tree. Soon, Isabella peeked out, one hand clamped over her mouth.
“…How did you know?”
I just did.
Claire scratched her cheek. Children’s breathing was louder than they thought. No matter how carefully Isabella tried to hide, she couldn’t escape Claire’s keen senses.
And that red hair is pretty noticeable too.
In the end, Claire chose to change the subject.
“Shall I wake the Young Master?”
At that, Isabella startled and waved her hands frantically.
“N-No.”
Her voice was hushed, as though afraid Theodore might wake.
Her large, round blue eyes trembled slightly. Claire found it strange to see Isabella, usually so sharp-tongued, acting like a meek lamb.
“I think it would be fine. It’s almost time for him to go back in anyway.”
“I said no!”
Face flushed red, Isabella looked between Theodore and Claire before abruptly turning away, as if about to leave.
She’s just going?
Claire watched the retreating figure with confusion.
It was the same in the hallway… and here too. She lingers nearby but never actually talks to him.
Was she afraid of his madness?
The question lingered, but Claire didn’t stop her.
Well, she must have her reasons.
As she absentmindedly watched Isabella walk away, the girl suddenly stopped and turned halfway back.
Shh!
She raised her index finger to her lips.
A secret?
With a coy expression, Isabella dashed out of the garden. Her clumsy, childlike run made Claire let out a small chuckle.
“Mm…”
Right after Isabella disappeared, Theodore slowly opened his eyes.
“Did you sleep well?”
His hazy gaze soon regained focus as he looked up at Claire.
He had come out half in doubt, but in the past six months of suffering from his condition, this was the first time he had slept so deeply.
Theodore quietly nodded.
Seeing that, the corners of Claire’s lips lifted.
When a raccoon wakes up, it always looks drowsy and strangely warm.
If Theodore had heard that, he would have protested indignantly—but unaware of her thoughts, he simply looked at her smile.
“…Let’s head back.”
The two left the garden before the day fully gave way to evening.
Perhaps because of the sunset, Theodore’s ears were flushed red.
