“My mother left me with a final message in her will.”
“What was it?”
“Fight tooth and nail to be happy.”
Though she spoke softly, her voice caught in her throat, the words hanging in the air between them. As Shailoh gazed at the gradually brightening lake, memories of her mother’s final moments washed over her like gentle waves against the shore.
“She meant to survive at all costs and to find happiness at all costs. I will seize every opportunity before me and fight tooth and nail to be happy. That’s what every mother wishes for her child.”
Was this why she was being punished? For completely forgetting such a mother and losing herself in the embrace of a new family? The guilt pierced her heart like a thorn beneath her fingernail, and Shailoh bit her lip, tasting the metallic hint of blood.
“My mother… she was ill for a long time,” she continued each word a fragile thing that might shatter. “By the time she passed, she didn’t even have the strength to lift her head, yet she worried about me until the end. If only I had… taken better care of her, maybe…”
Her voice trailed off, becoming as insubstantial as morning mist. A gentle hand soothed her trembling shoulders, its warmth seeping through the fabric of her dress.
It was a story she hadn’t even shared with the duchess, who had treated her like a daughter before ‘real’ Claire returned. The silent comfort broke the dam of tears she had been holding back. Shailoh buried her face in the broad shoulder and sobbed, her grief pouring out like water from a broken vessel.
The man’s scent enveloped her—a mix of light bergamot and the aroma of a summer forest after rain. The sound of unknown insects chirping and the rustling of leaves in the wind masked her sobs, nature itself providing a veil for her vulnerability.
The sun slowly rose, fully illuminating the lake until it sparkled like scattered diamonds. Only when there were no more tears left to shed did Shailoh lift her head from where she had leaned. Something cold touched her neck as the man stood up. Regaining her senses, Shailoh hurriedly grabbed him.
“Wa-Wait!”
His calm eyes looked down at her, as deep and unfathomable as the lake itself. Shailoh took a deep breath to steady her trembling voice.
“Will I see you again?”
“…”
The man, lost in thought for a moment, nodded silently.
“Tomorrow, at this time.”
Their secret meetings continued for a while. At dawn, they would sit side by side by the lakeside, spending time together in a world that seemed to exist only for them. Though she never learned his name, the man quietly listened to Shailoh’s stories, a silent guardian of her confidence. As the day broke, he would leave without hesitation, like a dream dissolving in morning light.
Despite the brevity of their time together, Shailoh cherished each moment like a precious gem. In the tranquil world they created, confessing her painful and longing memories felt like slowly lifting a heavy burden from her chest, one memory at a time.
Above all, the man didn’t pity her. There were no hasty words of comfort, but that absence brought her relief. It felt as though he alone understood the loneliness she thought no one could ever know. An inexplicable bond seemed to tie them together, making their connection special as if their souls recognized each other from another time.
The end of their special meetings was as sudden as their beginning. On the seventh day, as he stood up to leave, he informed her with quiet finality.
“Today is the last day.”
“Does that mean we won’t meet again?” Her heart clenched at the thought.
“I can’t stay here for long.”
His voice, once sounding like an old man’s, had become comfortable and familiar to her ears, like a favorite melody. Shailoh bit her lip in disappointment and sadness. As she looked down at her clasped hands, wondering how to gracefully say goodbye, something cool and delicate was placed around her neck.
“This is my gift to you.”
Shailoh looked down at the necklace around her neck. It was a rosary made entirely of gold, with a cross and a red ruby embedded in the center, catching the morning light like a drop of blood.
“This is…?”
“My mother gave it to me, believing it would protect me. It seems you need it now, so I want you to have it.”
“What? I-I can’t accept something so precious.”
Shailoh stood up, eyes wide in surprise. As she tried to return the necklace, the hand that had comforted her shoulder gently wrapped around her hands. Shailoh stared at the hand holding hers—strong yet gentle—and, as if entranced, lifted her head at his next words.
“Then return it to me when we meet again.”
“I’ve only ever received from you.”
“No, thanks to you, I’ve found comfort too.”
His face, which had always been expressionless, now bloomed into a smile like a flower bursting into bloom after a long winter. When she first saw him, he was dazzling, but now his presence was almost blinding as if the sun itself had descended to earth. Her heart raced, and her palms grew sweaty, a flush creeping up her neck.
“Ah… um, wait…!”
While she stood there in a daze, the man faded away like morning mist dissolving into sunlight. She chased after him belatedly, her heart racing, but he had already vanished without a trace. Clutching the rosary in her trembling hand, Shailoh stared blankly into the empty forest, the cool metal warming against her skin.
It felt as if she had been under a spell, a beautiful enchantment that left her breathless. The realization that she wasn’t alone, that someone had comforted her and entrusted her with a treasure, filled her heart with a warm energy that washed away her anxiety, loneliness, and fears like a tide erasing footprints on the sand.
“I’ll be okay,” she whispered to herself, the words a promise. “Somehow, I’ll find happiness.”
With the rosary carefully placed back around her neck, its ruby catching the light like a tiny flame, Shailoh retraced her steps with a much lighter heart than when she had arrived.
* * *
Time flowed swiftly like a river carving its path through stone. Shailoh experienced two cycles of spring, summer, autumn, and winter at the baroness’s residence. The baroness taught her the etiquette and knowledge of a noble with patient determination but allowed her to play freely during other times, understanding a young woman’s need for joy.
In spring, she drew strength from the life blossoming in the barren lands, her fingers tracing the delicate petals of the first flowers. In summer, she splashed in the lake and rowed boats with the employees’ children, her laughter carrying across the water. In autumn, she spread out thick shawls and mats, bringing snacks to the forest to read books as golden leaves danced around her. In winter, she sat by the roaring fireplace, listening to the old nurse’s tales, wrapped in warmth while snow piled against the windows.
As she embraced the pulsating nature and mingled with people, Shailoh grew into a dazzling beauty, her experiences etched into the confident way she carried herself. Watching her, the baroness felt assured that bringing Shailoh into her home had been the right decision. As she looked out the window at Shailoh planting flower seeds, her hands working the soil with care, the butler approached and spoke.
“The lady is already twenty years old now.”
“Yes, it’s time to consider marriage.” The baroness sighed, her eyes never leaving Shailoh’s form.
“Have you sent a message to the duke’s residence? It’s time to prepare for the debutante.”
The baroness responded to the follow-up question with a bitter smile. For the past two years, there had been no letters from the Diponz Ducal family. Even if you pick up a stray puppy from the street and raise it, you’d grow attached, yet they remain so cold and indifferent despite bringing someone into their family.
Whenever someone from the duke’s residence visited the baroness’s residence, Shailoh would hope for a reply to her letter, her eyes lighting up with anticipation, and it pained the baroness to see her disappointment, the way her shoulders would slump ever so slightly.
“I’ve already sent it. We should receive a reply today.”
No sooner had she finished speaking than someone knocked on the office door, the sound sharp and intrusive.
“Madam, a letter has arrived from the Diponz Ducal family.”
The baroness’s expression grew increasingly grim as she broke the seal and unfolded the letter, the expensive paper crackling beneath her fingers.
Sensing the gravity of the situation, the butler urgently instructed the servant who had brought the letter. “Go and fetch the young lady immediately!”
The letter from the duke’s residence proposed that Claire and Shailoh’s debut be held on the same day. Although the distinction between a biological daughter and an adopted daughter was clear, they were still sisters and family, so it would be best to proceed without discrimination.
“On the surface, it seems generous and affectionate,” the baroness said, her voice tight with controlled anger. “But anyone can see they’re planning to make you a mere backdrop. If both of you have your debutante together, the attention will naturally shift to Claire. Their aim is to gain a reputation as a benevolent and broad-minded family by having the debutante with their adopted daughter.”
Suppressing her anger, the baroness offered a suggestion to Shailoh, who stared at the letter without a word, her face a carefully composed mask. “If you don’t want this, you can refuse. I’ll prepare your debutante more perfectly.”
“The debutante is traditionally organized by the parents, Madam,” Shailoh replied softly. “Officially, I’m here for health reasons, but my registration is with the Diponz Ducal family.”
Shailoh placed the letter she had finished reading into the fireplace, watching as the flames licked at the edges, turning the paper brown, then black.
“There must have been a lot of public speculation,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “Even though I came here of my own will, those who were unaware probably gossiped about whether I was sent away as an adopted daughter. They must have been mindful of such perceptions.”
In the end, there was no choice. Shailoh took a deep breath and forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I can’t rely on this place forever. I entrusted myself to you, Madam, because I didn’t want to be sent to a boarding school or convent abroad, but I can’t do that anymore.”
“Shailoh!” The baroness’s voice cracked with emotion.
“I’m not going to have a debutante, Madam.” Shailoh’s fingers unconsciously found the rosary at her neck, drawing strength from its presence. “Living as a commoner suits me better than living as a noble.”
She was no longer the timid and soft-hearted girl who used to fall for Claire’s tricks. Her time at the baroness’s residence had forged her into someone stronger, someone who could face the world on her own terms.
“I’ll inform them and return right away.”
* * *
The duke’s residence stood before her, unchanged after two years, its imposing façade still capable of making her heart quicken. Shailoh tilted her head back to take in the grand mansion’s towering presence, its stone walls and ornate windows as coldly beautiful as she remembered. It was then, in the marbled entrance hall that seemed to swallow all warmth, that Shailoh came face to face with the very person she had prayed not to encounter.
