Chapter 51
“What do you mean, an event?”
When Jerlach asked in a twisted tone, his aide flinched.
Even while delivering the news, he’d thought Is this really okay?—and Jerlach’s reaction confirmed it.
“I-I mean… an event to commemorate Lady Bernadette.”
The aide trailed off, watching Jerlach’s expression nervously.
This is bad. I shouldn’t have brought it up.
Milen, the aide, awkwardly fiddled with the button fastened tightly under his neck and gave a strained smile.
Even he thought it was a bit much.
Since it was a privately hosted event by a noble, he hadn’t intended to report it—but the viscount’s family had sent an invitation to the grand duke.
After agonizing over it, Milen finally passed on the message, and the response was just as he’d feared.
He hurried to wrap things up.
“I’ll handle it myself.”
Jerlach didn’t say a single word until Milen left the office.
Frightened that the anger might spill over to him, Milen quickly shut the door and let out a long sigh.
“Whew, he’s seriously the scariest when he’s silent like that.”
After all, no one was even dead—it was still just a missing person. So what’s with all the talk about remembrance?
It hadn’t been that long since she vanished, and everyone was still being cautious. Holding an event in her name now just didn’t seem right.
“They’re already keeping a close eye on that side, and yet she’s so oblivious to the atmosphere.”
The person organizing the commemorative event for Liberata was none other than Grania Shurein.
At that moment, Grania was busy preparing to receive guests.
Elome had tried to dissuade her, saying it was too soon, but Grania’s patience had reached its limit. She simply couldn’t wait any longer.
No one knew, but she had already been waiting far too long.
“Elome, I don’t think this dress is quite right.”
Grania grumbled, looking down at her gown.
“Pardon? But since it’s an event to honor Lady Bernadette, wouldn’t it be best to wear a muted dress like the ones she popularized?”
“That’s true, but it makes my face look so dull.”
Today was an important day.
She had invited Jerlach and intended to make him erase any lingering affection he had for Bernadette.
Of course, she didn’t expect that to happen overnight. It might take a very long time.
Still, the important thing was that she was starting.
“No, miss. Even in a plain dress, you look more than beautiful.”
Elome spoke gently, but it was clear Grania had made up her mind.
“I’m just going to change. There are lots of ways to remember someone, aren’t there? Following a trend doesn’t mean you’re remembering properly.”
“But the invitation and the bulletin both advised guests to wear monochrome dresses, miss.”
All the guests would be dressed modestly—if the host wore something flashy, it would certainly look strange.
“Elome.”
“Yes, miss?”
“Today is very important to me. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You also know what that person means to me, right?”
“Yes.”
Grania took Elome’s shoulders and whispered darkly.
“You were the one who said this was my last chance.”
“…”
“So don’t stop me from giving it everything I have.”
“Miss…”
“This isn’t a request—it’s a warning.”
Elome looked away from Grania’s eyes.
“Don’t forget, Elome. You belong to me.”
Elome forced a faint smile, trying to hide the sadness welling up inside her.
“Yes, I understand.”
When Grania turned gracefully and held out her arms, Elome helped her change into a different dress.
As she pulled and tied the long, firm ribbons, Elome’s expression grew more disheartened.
If I had known she’d become this obsessed, I never would’ve told her.
Grania’s transformation was starting to scare her.
No—truthfully, she had been afraid for quite some time now. No matter how much one tried to disguise it as love, it still left wounds in someone else’s heart.
I really don’t know what to do anymore.
After tying the final ribbon and spreading it evenly, Grania turned with a smug look.
“All done?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Good, now I can finally feel at ease. Thank you.”
Dressed in a dazzling yellow gown, Grania did her final checks just as Neydan Palamedes arrived.
Grania had commissioned Neydan to compose a piece in honor of Liberata, and he had readily accepted.
“Wow.”
Neydan couldn’t close his mouth as he took in the extravagant decorations.
“Wow. I thought it was just going to be a small tea party.”
“This is for Lady Bernadette. I couldn’t possibly prepare something half-hearted.”
“Well, sure, but this feels more like a wedding than a memorial. You’ve really gone all out, Lady Grania. I didn’t expect it to be this luxurious.”
Murmuring to himself, Neydan picked up a cookie from a tray and popped it into his mouth.
“You did bring the piece I commissioned, right?”
Grania gave him a sidelong glance of disapproval, prompting Neydan to hastily nod with his mouth full and gesture an “OK” with his fingers.
“Yes, yes, of course! But I didn’t realize you were this close to Lady Bernadette. Actually… I had started working on a piece for her before. I had the draft ready and was planning to reveal it on St. Obenri’s Day if she gave her permission…”
Grania wasn’t particularly interested in Neydan’s ramblings but nodded along anyway.
“And then?”
“And then His Grace said no.”
“What?”
“His Grace the Grand Duke wouldn’t allow it. Well, if I had known just how close the two of them were, I would never have said something so foolish. I was so worried afterward that I might’ve fallen out of favor, but thankfully that didn’t happen. Still, it felt like such a waste to throw away those melodies—so I’m glad I can use them now. Or maybe it’s just sad…”
Though Neydan kept rambling on, nothing he said was registering in Grania’s head.
That close…?
She couldn’t ask him for more details, which only made her heart pound with increasing discomfort.
No. There’s no point in dwelling on the past anymore.
It’s over, anyway.
Liberata is gone, and Jerlach will never meet her again.
Isn’t that enough?
Grania steadied her flaring emotions and smiled calmly.
“I see. Then it’s perfect for you to debut the piece at today’s event.”
“Well then, I’ll warm up a bit before people start arriving. The piano… ah, there it is.”
Just as Neydan was miming piano motions in the air and heading toward the instrument—
“Miss, your guest has arrived.”
“Already?”
Grania looked toward the entrance, and the door opened to reveal a man with ash-brown hair and a stern face.
It was Adrian.
“Welcome. Please sign the guestbook first…”
Grania greeted him with a composed smile when—
“What is the meaning of this?”
Adrian made no attempt to hide the anger in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
As she looked up at him with a puzzled expression, Adrian turned his head and let out a deep sigh.
“What’s the point of this nonsense? A memorial for a missing person? I’ve never heard of such a thing—nor do I want to.”
He was clearly trying to suppress his voice from rising but barely succeeding.
“It’s only been a week. Have you considered how her family might feel?”
“I don’t see the problem. I simply wanted those who loved Lady Bernadette to gather, share stories about her, and hope for her swift return.”
“Here? In such a flashy setting, like it’s some party? You call this a commemoration?”
“So should we all dress in black and hold a funeral?”
“Lady Shurein, watch your words.”
Adrian glared at her coldly.
“Perhaps you should watch yours. It’s incredibly rude to come into someone’s home and act this way.”
“Do you want to know what true rudeness is?”
He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face before continuing.
“Let me just say this—your actions today were deeply thoughtless. I won’t even wish you a pleasant gathering.”
And with that, Adrian turned to leave—
“Leonie.”
Leonie stood there, lips tightly shut, staring blankly from the doorway.
