Chapter 08
A fragment of memory unfolded like the sea—expansive, then gone.
Sephine didn’t ask about what had happened back then. She didn’t have enough closeness with the man to force the subject, pretending to show familiarity even if she knew.
The car, which had been speeding along the coastal road, finally entered the familiar entrance of the town. He broke his silence only when he stopped in front of a two-story building.
“So.”
Sephine turned to him, expecting some sort of instruction. But he had already stepped out of the car. Returning to the passenger side, he opened the door and continued.
“What is your relationship with him?”
Taken aback by the sudden question, Sephine stood on the ground in confusion. Even the act of taking the hand he offered was instinctive.
“Relationship…?”
“Count Rohuman.”
He frowned as if even mentioning the name was unpleasant, glancing off into the distance.
“Oh… that person is…”
She hesitated, unsure how to define her connection with Felix, who wasn’t technically her fiancé yet but had accompanied her this far. Before she could speak, he asked again.
“Is it the kind of relationship where you can embrace each other if you wish? The kind where you write and send affectionate letters every day?”
Sephine lowered her eyes in embarrassment and pulled her hand away. Even if it wasn’t anything serious, having someone casually pry into her private affairs was humiliating.
“I…”
After weighing her words carefully, she decided firmly:
“I’ll wait here. I’d appreciate it if you brought the hat.”
“Alright. After I hear your answer first.”
“What answer…?”
His unnerving question came again.
“I asked how far things have progressed with Count Rohuman, and I’m waiting for your reply.”
The man looked down at her flushed face with an expression as professional as ever. How could he ask such personal questions with that stiff demeanor?
Sephine recalled that she had never walked arm in arm with Felix. Like with her other friends, they had only exchanged cheek greetings. There was no need to clarify that.
“As you see.”
How she imagined it was his private business. She didn’t need to answer rude questions honestly. Between embarrassment and resolve, she hugged her book tightly to her chest to conceal her tension.
The man nodded as if satisfied and turned to enter the building. Just before disappearing inside, a faint, almost mocking smile crossed his face.
Should I just leave?
She looked around but saw nothing to ride. She would have to wait until he came out.
Time passed, but the man did not emerge.
Sephine approached the wide-open front door hesitantly and peered inside. A low shelf near the entrance held a phone and some notepads.
Was he having trouble finding the hat? If so, she intended to tell him it wasn’t necessary to look.
Stepping into the corridor, she caught a glimpse of the living room.
A large instrument stood there—one she didn’t expect to see in an office.
A piano.
“Can you play?”
It was afternoon, and the setting sun cast its light through the broad living room windows. While other members of the household had gone swimming at the lakeside during a free period, Hiss remained alone in the East Wing parlor.
Sephine descended to the first-floor living room through the large window in the room. Her gaze wandered beneath his disheveled black hair to his thin face. Seeing her approach, his blue eyes lifted, and he rose from his chair.
<About the other night… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble… You can play the piano, right?>
That night, with his fate uncertain, Sephine opened the piano lid and smiled brightly.
Hiss did not refuse. Refusal wasn’t an option.
As a hired noble, he had always been expected to perform whenever commanded.
<I’m not very good. I only learned by watching.>
<Same here. My father didn’t like me playing instruments. If you know a piece, I’d like to hear it.>
He placed his long fingers on the keys. A melancholic melody, unlike anything she had heard, filled the room. The monotonous tune, played only with his right hand, resonated through the empty parlor.
Entranced, Sephine sat beside him.
When her gaze accidentally fell on his left hand resting on his thigh, she almost gasped. Fresh red marks stretched across his fingers, likely from the previous night.
He could play a melody beautifully, yet the smooth tune stopped abruptly—Sephine had wrapped his left hand with both of hers.
His blue eyes, previously fixed on the keys, met her hazel ones, full of emotion. After a moment, he withdrew his hand and returned to the keys.
The melody resumed. Sephine added harmonies with her left hand. Her chords were clumsy compared to his melody, but he followed, adjusting to her additions.
A wrong note caused Sephine to laugh awkwardly. The boy’s soft laugh mixed with hers. It was the first time they had laughed together, looking directly at each other.
It was also the first time their gazes lingered, as if peering into one another’s inner world.
Sephine tilted her head, gently drawing his chin toward her, and closed her eyes.
Before the brief moment could end, the sound of a chair tipping startled her. She turned and froze—the Count Buchanan glared at them. If not for the butler, Sephine might have been struck by the flying wooden chair.
<Get him out immediately.>
<No, Father!>
<Enough noise. Go to your room immediately.>
There was no escape. During her vacation, Sephine was sent to Greenwood, the farthest rural corner of the continent.
She never heard from Hiss again. She had written a letter of apology but couldn’t send it—he had no permanent address.
“The hat.”
Snapped out of her recollection, Sephine recoiled at the sudden voice. The man appeared, changed into slightly more formal attire than before.
“It’s not here.”
Not here? Sephine stared at him, puzzled. He raised his hand, and her gaze lingered on his wrist. The masculine, veined hands no longer belonged to the boy who had played the piano.
“It should be at the town office.”
Seeing her hesitate, he smiled slightly.
“I’m certain. This time?”
“It’s fine. Consider it lost.”
Sephine smiled faintly, indicating it wasn’t a problem.
“I appreciate you trying to return it, but there’s no need for me to retrieve it.”
“You’ll pass by Mr. Beringheim’s house anyway. I’ll drop you off. You don’t have a carriage of your own.”
He gently guided her toward the door.
“By the way, did you see anything while I was gone? Why are you so tense?”
His long fingers brushed her back as he spoke, cold despite the touch.
“Like someone recalling an unpleasant memory.”
The meeting hall, remodeled from a barn, was the only gathering place in Greenwood. Mostly used for exchanging farming news or information, it had recently become a place for gathering updates from Karl’s supervisors.
Hannah, attending with her husband Lucas, greeted neighbors filling the long wooden benches. This meeting was prompted by Mojave, a neighboring farm owner, who wanted to share his experiences.
Despite the sudden convening, neighbors filled the room quickly, eager to gain hints on how to protect their farms or prepare for upcoming relocations, and how much they had received from Karl’s supervisors.
“Did the Countess’s daughter arrive safely?”
Mrs. Rosalyn, a neighbor, asked. Hannah smiled and nodded. Sephine had arrived long ago and exchanged letters of regards with the Count. Having returned from the post office, she was probably at home working on her academy assignments.
