Chapter 47
“Where do you think you’re going so close to the wedding? What if your face gets sunburned before the ceremony?”
As expected, the baroness had a fundamentally different way of thinking. She didn’t spare a thought for how exhausted Yulia must be, getting married so soon after returning from the island. Nor did she consider how Yulia would lose the few remaining days she had to rest at this house.
Suppressing a sigh, Yulia stood in the small dressing room adjoining her bedroom, contemplating which clothes to pack.
“Should I take summer dresses?”
“No, my lady. Hilden Island has mild weather—like spring or fall—even in summer and winter. That’s one reason it’s famous as a resort.”
“I see.”
In any case, since she was going to meet Cayente’s mother, someone she’d long been curious about and wanted to see, she had agreed. But Yulia couldn’t help but feel nervous for other reasons.
“I guess there’s no way we can make the trip in a day, huh?”
“No, not really. We have to travel all the way to the western edge of the empire. People usually rest overnight in a village midway there and back. Unfortunately, the railroad hasn’t been extended that far yet.”
What concerned Yulia was whether Cayente would arrange for them to have separate rooms in that midway village—or on Hilden Island. He had already sent medicine to prepare her body for conception, so with less than a week until the wedding, she doubted he’d suddenly become cautious.
“By the way, do you still get those nighttime fevers?”
“Yeah.”
She’d recently started sweating at night from how hot her body felt. At first, she thought it was just because summer was approaching, but others didn’t seem to feel it was hot yet.
“I wonder what’s causing it… Should I call the doctor?”
“No, it’s not that bad.”
Once she fell asleep, she’d wake up completely fine by morning, so it didn’t seem serious. Still, sweating so much in her sleep—especially in an already uncomfortable situation—made her worry she’d come off as unclean.
“Not that it matters.”
“Pardon?”
The absurdity of her worrying about how she’d appear to Cayente made Yulia sigh again and return to the original topic.
“Never mind, Lucy. Could you mostly pack the new dresses I just had made? But be sure to include that light lavender one I wore before. I want to look as presentable as possible in front of Lady Maria, especially since it’s been so long.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Sweating wouldn’t matter if Cayente was really planning to get her pregnant there. What worried her more was whether she’d be able to keep from crying. The thought of Cayente, with no affection, planting his seed in her body…
“It would’ve been easier if he were a stranger…”
Watching Lucy pack diligently, Yulia let out another long, deep sigh.
If it had to happen like this, it would’ve been better with someone she didn’t know. Sleeping with someone she had no emotional connection with would’ve been awful too, of course. But the thought of Cayente—her first love, the one she had once shared her heart with more than her own family—holding her without a shred of tenderness…
No matter how resolved she tried to be, she doubted she could go through with it without crying.
“I hope it doesn’t happen… not yet.”
Yulia wished, at the very least, that it would happen after they were married. In that vast mansion, where no sound could escape, she wanted to hide her sorrow where no one could see it.
Spending the night with Cayente was one thing, but what made her nervous was the journey itself—being stuck at his side the whole way. Still, Yulia resolved not to show it. If she acted bothered or sensitive, it would only give Cayente the reaction he wanted.
From early morning, a cloudless sky lit the road ahead of them. It was her first time leaving the capital and heading to an unfamiliar place, so she couldn’t help feeling a little excited. The man riding the carriage with her might not be to her liking, but still—Yulia tried to focus on any positive aspects. She was firmly determined not to live the unhappy life Cayente wanted for her.
“I thought your first trip with the Count would be your honeymoon. But I’ll do my best to make sure this unexpected journey is as comfortable as possible, my lady.”
“We’re going on a honeymoon?”
The Cluga family’s carriage arrived exactly on time. While Henry loaded the luggage, he came over and greeted Yulia politely. Surprised at something she hadn’t heard before, Yulia asked, and Henry smiled awkwardly, glancing toward the carriage where Cayente sat.
“Didn’t the Count mention it? There’s a honeymoon trip to the Duchy of Esacudia planned after the wedding. I guess… he forgot to tell you. He’s been so busy lately.”
He didn’t forget—he just didn’t think it was necessary to inform her in advance. As always, she was expected to go where she was told and come when summoned. Even this trip had been a one-sided order.
“Is Lady Maria well? I heard rumors that her health isn’t good.”
At Yulia’s question, Henry again glanced cautiously toward Cayente’s carriage and lowered his voice.
“She was deeply shocked by that incident I mentioned before. It affected her mentally… She struggles to be around people, but since she said she wants to see you, I think she’s gradually improving.”
“She wants to see me?”
“Yes, she sent a letter herself upon hearing the news of the marriage. That’s why we’re going.”
“I see.”
So that was why Cayente, who once claimed he had no real family ties, suddenly insisted on visiting his mother.
“Lady Maria… hasn’t changed like your brother, has she?”
Yulia was nervous. She still remembered how Maria used to hold her more gently than her own mother. But hearing about her illness made Yulia uneasy. Henry, understanding her at once, shook his head firmly.
“Not at all. She’s exactly the same.”
“That’s a relief.”
Knowing exactly what Yulia meant, Henry spoke with conviction, and Yulia let out a breath of relief. If Maria, too, had become cold and indifferent like Cayente, it would’ve broken her heart. She had once wished Maria could’ve been her real mother. If even she had changed…
What sort of misfortune had ruined such good people so thoroughly?
“All the luggage is loaded!”
“Please get in, my lady. Lucy and I will follow in another carriage.”
“You’re taking a separate one?”
“It’s a long journey, and four people sitting knee-to-knee wouldn’t be comfortable. You should have space to relax.”
Yulia had felt reassured by Henry’s presence—but now she realized she would be alone with Cayente the entire way. Looking around, she spotted a hired carriage a short distance away. Still, Yulia climbed into the main carriage with a cheerful face, determined to stay strong.
“My lady, if you start feeling sick, please suck on a lemon candy. Okay?”
“Thank you, Lucy.”
“You’re still dawdling.”
Of course, the moment they made eye contact, Cayente had to throw in a jab. But Yulia didn’t let it affect her. She took a seat diagonally across from him, as far as she could get, and turned to look out the window, feigning disinterest.
“Why don’t you say something?”
“…What?”
Some time after the carriage had departed, Yulia remained still, elbow on the window sill, gazing out as though she were a statue. Normally, Cayente disliked chatter, but the endless rhythm of hooves and wheels was starting to grate on him. It felt like he was trapped in a loop of time.
“Just say something. Anything.”
If he’d known it would be like this, he would’ve brought work to do. But he hadn’t—thinking he wouldn’t be able to focus while visiting his mother. Now, sitting idle, he was growing increasingly agitated.
“You want to talk to me?”
“I never said that. I just said talk. Say anything.”
Yulia’s lips parted in disbelief at his snappish tone. She shut her mouth again but couldn’t hide the sigh that slipped out. He seemed frustrated that she wasn’t reacting the way he expected.
“Sorry, but I can’t follow that order. I don’t know any interesting stories.”
“I didn’t say it had to be interesting. Just say anything.”
Yulia’s golden eyes flashed with irritation before dimming again. Maybe she couldn’t hide her emotions well—but Cayente liked that about her. She tried to build a wall, but it wasn’t thick enough.
“…I like lavender.”
“What?”
When Cayente looked puzzled by her sudden comment, Yulia replied curtly.
“You said to talk. I can’t just invent a story out of nowhere. That’s all I had. Want me to keep going?”
“…Go on.”
Yulia had clearly decided to treat Cayente as if he weren’t there, but she still didn’t ignore what he said.
“My mother is tired of potatoes, but I still like all potato dishes. I find overly elaborate dresses uncomfortable, though I also can’t afford to wear expensive ones. I can’t handle heat well, so I dread summer. I have terrible sleep habits and still roll around the bed. When I wake up, my head’s usually at the opposite end. I like cats, flowers, and tea. And among those… I love the cello the most.”
When she mentioned the cello, her voice quivered with emotion. She tried so hard to hate him, to shut him out. She didn’t want to expose her feelings to someone who wouldn’t care, but her emotions kept spilling through. Watching her, Cayente suddenly laughed without resistance.
“…What’s so funny?”
So that’s it. She had already given him her heart. Whether she realized it or not, the moment their marriage was decided, she had accepted him as her husband.
“…Is it that funny? That I love the cello?”
That was why she acted the way she did. She had been so wounded by one cruel statement—that he wished for her misfortune—that now she was doing things that didn’t suit her at all.
Would she ever become an adult? Yulia, who had opened her heart the moment she saw him again, swept up by memories of first love… Would she ever gain the coldness people associate with adulthood?
At first, he laughed at how ridiculously consistent she was. But at some point, that laughter turned bitter inside him. Though his voice was filled with laughter, his eyes reddened. And the more he laughed, the more hollow he felt. Cayente sounded like he was laughing… but he felt like he was crying.
“…It must be hilarious, huh? That I… had to give up the cello.”
Cayente wondered—what expression would Yulia make if he suddenly broke down sobbing like a madman right here? Would she pout and scold him? Or… would she pity him?
