Chapter 45
It was a name she should have been glad to see—but it wasn’t. Upon spotting Maria’s name on the envelope, Cayente felt as if something heavy had settled on his chest and had to force himself to take a deep breath. It felt too early for a seasonal letter—summer hadn’t even arrived yet.
“Madam has sent a letter. It’s a little early for a seasonal greeting, but the weather’s been getting warmer, so perhaps she sent it in advance.”
What reassured Cayente that the letter likely didn’t contain any dire news was the fact that the name and address on the envelope were written in Maria’s own handwriting. If something had happened to her, it would have been someone else’s handwriting.
“So the news of the marriage… must have reached her.”
When he opened the letter, having quelled his anxiety, he found Maria scolding him for not introducing the woman he was going to marry. She didn’t fault him for not inviting her to the wedding—perhaps understanding that Yulia was still uncomfortable being in public—but she did think it was too much not to have introduced her at all.
She didn’t ask who the woman was. It seemed she already knew it was Yulia.
“Madam is right. No matter the reason… you should at least show her your bride’s face, shouldn’t you?”
After Cayente set the letter on the table, Henry, who had also read it, chimed in. Not just for Madam’s sake—surely Miss Yulia would want to see the rest of the family too.
“Madam will be pleased. She’ll be happy to see the Count settle down, of course, but if I remember correctly, she was very fond of Miss Yulia when she was young.”
“Was she?”
“She was. Don’t you remember? Madam once seriously considered arranging an engagement contract with Miss Yulia’s family, but Sir Vane opposed it, saying contracts like that aren’t something to be joked about.”
Was that true? Cayente couldn’t recall his father’s reaction. He had a faint memory of his mother’s, though.
“Oh, the physician sent word—Miss Yulia seems to be doing well. He says the injury to her hand will heal without much scarring, which is fortunate, isn’t it?”
Cayente, who had been briefly softened by childhood memories, was startled by an unexpected clap of thunder and crumpled the document he had been holding. He sighed quietly, annoyed at himself for still being startled by something like thunder. Henry continued speaking.
“The rain reminds me… do you remember the time the young lady came to visit the manor and cried when it was time to leave? She didn’t want to leave you alone in the rain. She sobbed so pitifully in that tiny body of hers that I almost cried too. It’s a memory that’s stuck with me.”
“…I’d rather not talk about the past anymore.”
Henry had brought up the memory fondly, but Cayente didn’t want to hear it. That version of himself no longer existed… and Yulia wouldn’t act so warmly toward him anymore either.
“Forgive me. I suppose I talked too much. I must be getting old—the past feels clearer and more precious these days. …What will you do about the letter? If you plan to visit before the wedding, it would be best to hurry.”
Cayente quietly smoothed the crumpled document without answering, and though Henry didn’t press him, he had already started calculating the schedule in his mind.
“Just in case, should we let Miss Yulia know in advance?”
It was unlikely that Cayente would go against his mother’s request. Though he had grown colder due to the matter of the former Count Clou, his affection for his family had only deepened. The burden of responsibility that accompanied that affection was painful to witness.
Henry reflected that he had been too focused on inviting people to the wedding and hadn’t thought of other options. He didn’t understand why Cayente seemed to be pushing Yulia away, but he hoped Cayente would soon accept her as part of the family.
“Well then, I’ll cancel the remaining schedule and bring some fresh tea.”
“Alright.”
Yulia might need Cayente’s protection, but it was clear that she, unlike the rest of the family, would at least try to help him carry his burdens. If she found Cayente flinching at thunder, she would surely try to comfort him with that small frame of hers. Henry believed that would be more than enough to help Cayente heal.
Yulia sat at her desk, deciding how to decorate the garden for the wedding ceremony—where to place the tables, what arrangements to make. She could visualize the size and layout in her head well enough that all she needed was paper and a pen. She had no desire to visit that house and face Cayente again.
“She’s my daughter, but sometimes I wonder how such a clever girl came from me.”
The baroness muttered in a tone that was hard to tell if it was praise or a complaint as she watched Yulia handle everything from within her bedroom. Thankfully, perhaps out of guilt for Yulia injuring her hand due to the lamp she had insisted on buying, she didn’t insist that Yulia go to Cayente’s house.
“Young lady, here are the replies from those who said they’ll attend.”
With the RSVP list compiled and the seating chart complete, all that remained was to wait for the wedding day.
“What else do I need to do?”
“You should… take a break. At this rate, you might faint at your own wedding.”
Truthfully, Yulia had thrown herself into the wedding preparations because when she was idle, her mind would swing wildly dozens of times a day.
Should I run away to a place where no one knows me? If I have my cello, I can survive somehow. But then, what about my remaining family? And how would Cayente react to a bride fleeing before the wedding? Then again, I can be happy on my own, no matter what he does. Then again, how will I endure someone who deliberately tries to torment me? Her thoughts went in endless circles.
“Is there anything else to check? Just sitting still makes me anxious.”
“You must be nervous. I’d be the same if I were about to get married. Oh! What about the wedding favors? You haven’t decided on those yet.”
“Wedding favors?”
“In the Duchy of Esacudia, they give favors to guests who attend the wedding. Since the Count is from there and many of the guests are too, shouldn’t we prepare something?”
“Oh… I didn’t know. My brother never mentioned…”
Of course he hadn’t. If favors were truly necessary, he would’ve waited until the last minute to scold her for not preparing them properly.
As Yulia’s expression darkened, Lucy pretended not to notice and quickly started suggesting ideas for favors.
“Some people go with simple chocolates or cookies. Since the Count is well-known, how about a tea set? Hmm, though getting enough in time might be tough. Handkerchiefs are also common. Oh! Expensive coffee beans from the Duchy could be nice too.”
Hearing Lucy’s suggestions, Yulia immediately stood up. She could’ve had samples brought in and consulted various people, but it would be faster to go out herself and look.
“I’ll go check the shopping district first, Lucy.”
“Yes, Miss. What would you like to wear?”
Old clothes would be more comfortable for walking around, but Yulia chose a light tangerine-colored dress adorned with lace and butterfly embroidery. It was the thinnest one she owned suitable for the weather, and since the wedding was approaching, she figured people would start treating her like the Countess more than before—she didn’t want to go out in shabby clothes and lose confidence.
Some people really are different when it comes to getting things done. Wherever Lucy had come from, she was proving to be a tremendous help once again.
“Just in time! We’ve received a new shipment of tea sets from Dian this morning. How many sets will you need?”
“About 100, I think. I’d like the ones with gold trim, if possible.”
“We only have about 30 of those in stock.”
“Then I’ll take all of those…”
On the way in the carriage, Yulia had been debating whether tea sets were a good idea—and whether she could even get 100 of the same kind. Lucy had told her not everyone needed the same gift. Anyone invited to a noble wedding wouldn’t be coming just for the favor; in fact, people enjoyed the randomness of not knowing which one they’d get.
So Yulia decided to do just that. Most of Cayente’s guests were strangers to her anyway—it would be hard to match their tastes. If it was something she chose herself, then even if they didn’t like it, they were unlikely to complain.
“Let’s go with 30 sets of the one with the blue bird design, 30 with the light pink floral one, and the rest with the grass motif. Lucy, can I leave the delivery scheduling to you?”
“Of course, Miss! Leave it to me.”
She was glad she had already found a store that sold fine tableware for the wedding. While Lucy arranged the details with the shopkeeper about packaging and delivery times, Yulia looked at the other dishes on display. Many she hadn’t seen before—perhaps they were new arrivals.
Should I buy more?
She wouldn’t have thought like that in the past. But suddenly, the idea crossed her mind. Cayente wouldn’t bat an eye if she bought a few more tea sets. When she had told him how difficult the wedding prep was, he’d said she should’ve just spent money instead of suffering—why blame him for it?
Some noblewomen collected tea sets as a hobby. Maybe she could do the same—she needed something to hold on to in this doomed marriage. Of course, if she went too far, who knew how Cayente would react?
“They’re working her so hard, saying it’s just a trial period. Becky wants to quit, but she already got paid in advance and can’t. She’s miserable.”
“I heard that’s what the Count of Clou does. He pays people in advance so they can’t quit. If they try to, he threatens them with breach-of-contract penalties. Someone in the Duchy even died from overwork, they say…”
Just as she was browsing the dishware, Yulia heard voices gossiping about Cayente from somewhere nearb
