Chapter 11
The boy felt his chest tighten.
It wasn’t exactly pain—but it was something close. A strange, unfamiliar feeling he had never experienced before.
Why? What was this?
His lips were dry, his mouth parched.
This restless unease—where did it come from?
Even though the emotion was his own, he couldn’t give it a name yet.
Like sitting in front of a blank exam sheet, he froze in place for a long time.
Sniff.
I hastily wiped away the tears that had slipped out.
Why am I suddenly crying like this? Do I really have the luxury for feelings right now?
Whether I had a home to return to or not—none of that mattered.
This isn’t the time to collapse! This villa is a tiger’s den, a cliff’s edge! Get it together!
Just as I scolded myself, a gust of wind blew in through the open window.
Whoosh—!
The heavy curtains flapped violently, dust scattering everywhere.
But worse than the dust was what the curtains revealed:
A boy was standing there, staring at me with a dazed expression.
“…Edmund?”
What are you doing here?! Were you hiding behind the curtain all this time?
Then I remembered.
Ah, right. I gave him a copy of the library key.
It made sense. The library was important to Edmund, and I wanted him to study here.
So, finding him here wasn’t strange.
But… of all times… why now?
Did he see me crying?
Did he? He didn’t, right? Please tell me he didn’t!
But denying it wouldn’t make Edmund disappear.
“….”
“….”
A painfully awkward silence stretched.
Then Edmund moved first.
Expression unreadable, he slowly walked toward me—and held something out.
“Huh?”
It was a handkerchief.
Without thinking, I accepted it—then his blunt words stabbed my ears:
“If your eyes swell, you’ll look even uglier.”
“…What did you just say?!”
So he did see me crying!
The realization smacked me in the back of the head.
Shame and irritation tangled inside me.
Ugh! So embarrassing! I showed a brat like him my crying face!
And to make it worse—
Why does he always talk in such a nasty way?!
But then I noticed something odd.
The handkerchief looked familiar.
“Wait… isn’t this the one I gave you back then?”
The same one I had used to bandage him when Moretti hit him.
At the edge, embroidered neatly, were my initials: K.F.
I looked up at him, surprised.
“You still have this?”
I had assumed he would have thrown it away.
At that, Edmund’s pale face flushed scarlet.
“No! It’s not yours!”
“What do you mean? My initials are right here!”
“I said it’s not yours!” he shouted, then quickly turned his head away.
The next moment, he stormed out of the library.
Bang!
The door slammed so hard the bookshelves rattled.
His footsteps echoed noisily down the hall.
“….”
I just stood there, staring at the door.
After a moment—
“Pfft.”
My earlier gloom melted away, replaced with laughter.
If Edmund were here, he would have gotten mad at me for laughing,
but he wasn’t, so it didn’t matter.
I lifted the handkerchief he left behind and covered my face.
It smelled faintly of clean laundry.
That made me laugh even more, and I sat in the dusty library chuckling to myself.
Edmund, meanwhile, was running as if chased.
Thud, thud, thud—!
His ill-fitting shoes pounded against the floor, but his heart pounded even louder.
Thump, thump, thump—!
His mind was filled with only one image:
Cassia.
Cassia, crying alone.
Cassia, startled when she noticed him.
Cassia, smiling gently as she held the handkerchief.
“Wait… isn’t this the one I gave you back then?”
“You still have this?”
Only then did Edmund realize:
He had given back the handkerchief Cassia had once lent to him.
And that he had even offered it without realizing—his hand had moved before his brain.
Carrying laundry, a maid nearly bumped into him.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” she snapped, rude as ever.
Soon after, Edmund was caught by Paul, a footman, and other servants.
“Where were you hiding? The Duke warned you not to sneak off!”
“We’ll be reporting today’s incident to the Duke.”
“Return to your room immediately!”
They spoke to him with disrespect no servant should ever use toward a young lord.
But Edmund was used to it.
They weren’t attendants—they were jailers.
I must’ve been gone too long, so they came looking for me.
“I understand,” he answered calmly, not resisting.
No need to invite suspicion.
But the excitement from moments ago froze cold again as he was marched back to his room.
Still—he noticed one thing.
His pocket was empty.
The handkerchief, which he had always carried with him, was gone.
It’s fine. I was going to return it eventually anyway.
That’s why he had washed it and kept it carefully all this time.
It was simply back with its rightful owner now.
But still—its absence left him strangely hollow.
After the day Edmund gave me the handkerchief, his behavior didn’t change much.
Not that I expected it to.
Well… maybe a little.
Because now, every time he saw me—he would bolt.
Whoosh! Dash dash dash—!
What on earth?
It was me who should’ve been embarrassed, so why was he avoiding me?
He even tried not to open the door at mealtimes.
So what did I do?
“Break the doorknob.”
“Yes, Little Madam.”
Crash, crash, crash!
The servants smashed it open, and I strode in with the food trolley.
I also made sure the staff saw me playing the part of the Duke’s loyal pawn.
“Did you think you could skip meals this way?”
“….”
“Eat it. All of it. The Duke would be worried otherwise.”
Edmund’s whole face went red, from ears to neck, as he turned away.
He looked like he’d burst into flames if touched.
What is he even angry about now?
Because of the staff watching, we couldn’t talk properly.
So Edmund just wolfed down the food quickly, then muttered:
“…I’m done. You can go now.”
He knew better than anyone the food was safe.
So why was he acting like this?
Ah, must be the stormy teenage years.
That age when you rebel at the smallest thing.
All I could do was sigh.
Dealing with a sensitive teenager really is exhausting.
Finally, I caught him properly again—in the library.
He had been hiding so much that I searched here just in case.
Sure enough, the library’s book arrangement had been changed.
I scanned the room and immediately spotted his hiding place.
There you are. Behind the curtain again, huh?
Dusty spot too… his lungs must be strong.
But I didn’t chase him right away like before.
Stormy teenagers are even more sensitive than kittens.
This time I’d approach him indirectly.
And I had something I wanted to try anyway.
I dusted off a table, sat down, and opened a book—then spoke aloud, making sure he could hear:
“Good. No one’s here. Time to review what I learned at the Academy so I won’t forget it.”
From behind the curtain, Edmund’s small shadow flinched visibly.
I suppressed a smile.
