Chapter 83
As dinner was coming to an end, Yulia brought up the subject of a concert, mentioning that the Emperor himself had requested her performance. She said she couldn’t keep relying on her brother forever, that she wanted to help reclaim the family’s estate and mansion. She thought that if she said that, Cayente might at least consider it. But even then, he remained firm. He said the Emperor’s party was one thing, but he would not permit her to perform at a concert.
Yulia thought they had grown closer, that he would at least try to understand her feelings—but no, that wasn’t the case. And yet, he still came faithfully to her bed, and Yulia couldn’t deny that she didn’t hate it, which only made her more confused.
“Not that he says he loves me or anything…”
The next morning, Yulia awoke alone in bed, sighing endlessly.
Why had she been so glad that Cayente desired her so desperately? In the end, it only meant he liked her body, not that he had come to love her.
“Madam, are you awake? The bath is ready.”
“Yes, I’ll be right there.”
She climbed out of bed with a brave face, hiding the sighs spilling out of her, but she couldn’t summon any real energy.
She had told herself many times not to give in like this, but perhaps she couldn’t help it. Her disappointment last night hadn’t come simply from having her request rejected, but from the fact that Cayente hadn’t even tried to understand her feelings.
She had resolved not to give her heart away as recklessly as she gave her body. But maybe it was his gentle gaze when he held her that had undone her. That look made her hope and expect—made her believe he would listen to her words. When she gave him her body, she must have given him her heart as well. If she thought about it honestly, her temperament would never have allowed her to enjoy intimacy with a man she had no feelings for.
“Haah…”
What was first love even worth? What was marriage even for?
“Why do you keep sighing like that first thing in the morning? Did you have a bad dream?”
“No… it’s nothing.”
Following Lucy to the bath, Yulia forced a smile, but the thoughts that had already taken root in her mind refused to vanish.
He shouldn’t have held her like that… shouldn’t have let his eyes waver sometimes like that… shouldn’t have looked at her with that gaze of wanting her so badly.
The truth was… despite how much he had rejected her, Yulia had never truly come to hate Cayente. Even when she was hurt and wounded, closing off her heart completely had been impossible. His fearful moments, when he had burrowed into her arms, and those times when, in the face of certain despair, he had held on to her hand instead of abandoning her—those had begun to take on meaning.
And so, Yulia could only let out another long sigh. Now, even if Cayente did nothing, she feared she would be hurt again precisely because of that nothing.
“Can you make time this afternoon?”
“This afternoon…?”
“After two. I heard Yulia is going riding with some people.”
As Cayente boarded the carriage, he kept his eyes fixed on Yulia standing at the entrance, until she disappeared from view. Her reaction last night hadn’t been bad, but perhaps she was still upset at how firmly he had rejected her request about the cello performance. Even when she came late to breakfast, her hair still damp, and now, even as she saw him off, Yulia seemed dispirited.
“Are you thinking of going?”
And so, unexpectedly, Cayente wondered if he should at least join her at that riding gathering she had mentioned over breakfast. He thought to himself that he must finally have gone mad.
Why should it matter to him that Yulia looked downcast? And their conversation yesterday—he knew perfectly well that she would never stray, that she would never do something like betray him. Even if she did, what would it matter? And yet, he couldn’t stand the idea of her being near Cain. That couldn’t be anything but jealousy.
“I must be mad.”
“Pardon? What’s mad…?”
Whether it was because his mind had broken from his relentless pursuit of revenge, or because, now that he had partly achieved that revenge, he had grown careless, he wasn’t sure. But either way, he knew he wasn’t in his right mind.
“Yes… I’m mad.”
But he couldn’t help it. Yulia was special.
She had been so from the very beginning. In all those moments when he couldn’t bear the name of Rupère out of sheer hatred, he still couldn’t entirely ignore Yulia’s tears. And now he could no longer turn away from that fact. He didn’t know exactly what these incomprehensible feelings were, but—
—Kai?
Even when he had first appeared before her, swearing to make her cry, Yulia had always been something “different” to him.
Cayente claimed that making friends among the nobility was meaningless, but Yulia thought differently. Good relationships could surely prove useful later, at the very least in helping to restore Cayente’s terrible reputation.
Not all socializing was about gaining advantage. Sometimes, like today, when the weather was fine, simply being outside with others was refreshing. Ever since becoming a countess, her responsibilities had quietly multiplied, but there wasn’t much joy in them, and she had been feeling a little bored. These gatherings also made her think of her father more often, so Yulia accepted nearly every invitation.
“Welcome, Countess Clu.”
“You’re here already, Marchioness Viché, Countess Serawin. Hello.”
“Welcome.”
“What a beautiful horse, Countess Clu!”
“Oh, but Baroness Hemoshi’s horse is lovely as well.”
Because of Cayente’s awful reputation, she had worried about where to send invitations first. Luckily, many had reached out to her before she had to. Among them, the ones Yulia felt most at ease with were Marchioness Viché, the Empire’s senior matron; Countess Serawin, who was of motherly age; and Baroness Hemoshi, who always brought along her three-year-old son. Unlike others who were more interested in Cayente than in her, these three treated Yulia with warmth.
Today, with their husbands, they had come out to a nearby forest for a riding outing. Though her own circumstances had been meager, Yulia had learned to ride because her brother had always tried to ensure she kept up the dignity of a noblewoman. She might not compare to those with their own stables who rode as a hobby, but she could manage.
“A white horse like this is rare. Where did you find it?”
“My broth—ah, my husband found it, so I’m not sure… I’ll ask him.”
“Will you tell me too? I’d love to gift one to my daughter.”
“Of course.”
As Marchioness Viché and Countess Serawin showered her horse with praise, Yulia’s gaze, however, was fixed on the baby bundled in blankets in Baroness Hemoshi’s arms.
She could hardly believe such a tiny creature existed—with such small eyes and nose, but such large, wandering pupils. And that he was even riding a horse!
“Is it safe to ride with him?”
“Of course. Our little Michel is already an excellent rider.”
The baby, sitting calmly and smiling up at his mother, had bright blue eyes. Glancing over at the men greeting each other nearby, Yulia noticed a man who looked exactly like the baby—and smiled.
“Your child looks so much like your husband.”
“Yes. I gave birth to him, but not only his eyes—his whole face is the spitting image of his father. And yet he always wants his mother. It feels almost unfair sometimes.”
“And you say that while never going anywhere without him…”
When Count Serawin teased her jokingly, Baroness Hemoshi hugged her son tightly, unable to resist his cuteness, then asked Yulia,
“Countess Clu, shouldn’t you be having children soon as well?”
“Yes.”
“Would you prefer a daughter or a son for your first?”
“Well…”
She realized she had only been focused on having a child, never once thinking about whether the first would be a boy or girl. Pondering this, she looked at the baby tied securely in the baroness’s arms. Though his body was smaller than one of her forearms, perhaps because he was a boy, his eyebrows were dark and his little face already carried a strong impression.
“I think I would like to have a son first.”
Looking at this baby, she thought a son would be nice. It would give Cayente a sense of security, and to have a baby who resembled him—small, yet already handsome—would be unbearably cute.
Yulia smiled, and Baroness Hemoshi, perhaps picturing a boy resembling Cayente, laughed along with her. Then she glanced down the lone path into the forest.
“It seems Count Clu isn’t coming today?”
“He said he would try, but he seems very busy these days.”
“That’s understandable. Well then, shall we set off?”
“Yes.”
Baroness Hemoshi, already mounted, turned her horse toward the forest. From afar, Baron Hemoshi urged his horse forward to join her. Watching the couple enter the forest side by side, Yulia, the last to follow, turned her head back toward the path with a trace of regret.
If only he would come, even belatedly…
