Chapter 39
Lucien paused for a moment as she was rubbing Jun’s hair with a towel.
“Is there… some other reason I should know about?”
She cautiously asked, and Jun finally managed a faint smile and shook his head.
“No, nothing.”
“What the heck.”
Lucien resumed gently rubbing his hair again.
The towel was quickly ruined by the thick black shoe polish smeared in his hair. Lucien frowned slightly at the dark stains that reached even his scalp.
“It’s such a waste.”
It was something Lucien had said to him many times.
“A waste?”
“But Jun’s hair is really beautiful. No other blonde shines like sunlight the way yours does.”
Lucien had seen a number of people categorized as blondes in this world, but compared to Jun, they were more accurately described as yellow or brown.
Truly radiant, sunbeam-like golden hair like Jun’s didn’t exist anywhere else…
‘Ah, there was one time.’
At the late Duke’s funeral.
She hadn’t noticed it at the time due to all the chaos, but the prince who had come that day also had hair as stunningly golden as Jun’s.
‘To think that he has the same blonde hair as that prince.’
For some reason, that made Lucien feel even more proud and impressed by her friend Jun.
“If people saw this hair, I bet a lot of them would fall for you besides me.”
“I’m not particularly happy if it’s someone other than you who likes me.”
“You shouldn’t say that.”
Lucien, though younger, spoke like she was trying to teach him a lesson, which amused Jun and made him chuckle a little.
“You…”
“Hm?”
Lucien answered as she collected the damp towel.
“I hope you come back here someday. I mean it.”
“Of course I’ll come back someday. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”
“Really?”
Lucien slowly nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll wait here patiently for you for the rest of my life.”
“You don’t have to do that. If you ever want to do something else, anytime…”
“No.”
Jun slowly stood up and faced her.
“I’ll wait for you, unchanged. I promise I will.”
Lucien didn’t know how to respond to Jun’s deep gaze, so her lips parted slightly without sound.
He just smiled and shrugged.
“I just want to. That’s all.”
When Lucien whispered a soft “thank you,” he bowed dramatically like a proper traveling performer.
*
Benedict went to see the troupe leader’s carriage.
“My deepest condolences about the late Duke. Thanks to his support, today’s performance was even possible.”
As the leader began to go on about the generosity of the Duke of Winfield, Benedict raised a hand to ask for silence.
“I came because I have a question.”
“Well, my mouth is always open, if only you have the right key to turn it.”
Realizing what “key” he meant, Benedict pulled a gold coin from his pocket and handed it over.
“I want to know what happened when my father came. Did he go anywhere unusual? Did he say anything about going somewhere?”
“Let me see…”
The leader hesitated, so Benedict sighed and offered another coin.
“The late Duke was a cautious man. He never spoke a word outside of business to a mere clown like me. He only said he wanted to take Lucien with him.”
Benedict openly frowned. Taking money only to say something like that?
“…However.”
“However?”
“A few days after the Duke took Lucien, another nobleman came to see us.”
“Another nobleman?”
“Yes, he claimed to be acting on the Duke’s orders and asked me, ‘Where is the child the Duke took from?’”
“And what did you say?”
“Of course, I told him. I said Lucien was taken from Ashdown Orphanage.”
That seemed strange.
If his father had wanted to know Lucien’s background, wouldn’t he have just asked her directly?
“Do you remember who it was?”
“Hmm…”
When the clown hesitated again, Benedict handed over another coin.
“My poor memory is finally working now. Yes, he introduced himself as Count Aster! He even wrote us a guarantee document at the time.”
“What?”
Benedict couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Count Aster” was a title used within the royal family, often when they wanted to move about incognito.
“He was a young gentleman with truly radiant golden hair. I’ve never seen such a beautiful shade before!”
Benedict bit his lip.
So the Count Aster he mentioned was—
“Got it. But if the day comes when you truly think of me as your real brother, then you have to call me Ron. Promise?”
It could only be Prince Algernon Shevon.
*
When Lucien returned to the mansion after a week, she was welcomed by everyone.
“Now it really feels like the house is back in order.”
The kind nanny gave Lucien a tight hug.
“I’m so glad you came back safely. I almost thought I’d grabbed onto a rotten rope—Ah, no! I never doubted you, really!”
Juliet reassured Lucien with her usual joking manner.
“You just leave and come back like it’s nothing… Hmph!”
Although Chef Dujardin’s reaction wasn’t much different than before, Lucien had gotten used to it and didn’t mind.
“Sorry for worrying everyone. I’ll behave myself, so please take care of me.”
Lucien politely bowed and returned to her room. Once she was alone in the quiet room lit by candlelight…
“……”
She slid down against the door and sat on the floor.
The smile she had shown to the staff had vanished, and now her lips trembled ever so slightly.
Lately, when she was alone, fear crept in from somewhere deep inside her chest, leaving her body trembling.
‘It was… definitely because of me.’
The scene always came to mind when she closed her eyes.
Fire.
Lucien clenched her arms tightly around her knees.
Come to think of it, that wasn’t the only strange thing.
For as long as she could remember, since her time at the orphanage, weird things always happened around her.
Like when someone’s stolen item would suddenly be found in her pocket…
Back then, she thought she was being framed by someone or that it was just a coincidence, even as she got scolded by the teacher.
‘…And the same thing happened even after I started living at Winfield.’
For instance, when Alfie’s pendant somehow ended up in her hands not long ago.
‘And even before that…’
There was that packet of seeds left by the late Duke, which mysteriously appeared in her room. She had assumed Alfie had given it to her—but what if he hadn’t?
A wave of fear washed over her.
Knock knock. A knock suddenly came from behind her.
Who could it be?
Startled, Lucien stood up in confusion.
“Miss Lucien, um… Is this a good time?”
It was Alfie’s voice. Lucien quickly forced a smile and opened the door.
Wearing his usual suit and glasses, he stood there with a faintly pained expression.
She recalled what Benedict had said earlier when she returned: “Alfie’s been really sorry about not being able to save you from the fire.”
“Butler.”
“I came because I have something to say.”
His tone was lower than usual.
“But seeing you now, I think maybe it’d be better to hear your story first.”
“Sorry?”
“You look like you have something on your mind.”
Lucien had tried her best to smile as usual—was it still that obvious? Or maybe Alfie, who always seemed to understand her, had simply sensed it.
As she stepped aside, he said, “Excuse me,” and walked in to stand in front of her.
“So, what’s going on?”
“Well…”
Lucien hesitated, unsure of where or how to begin. Alfie waited patiently without urging her.
“Butler, do you…”
Lucien finally found her words.
“Do you know anything about… words that become reality when spoken with sincere desire?”
The explanation was vague and difficult, so Lucien debated whether to also mention the seed packet.
“Yes, I know.”
But before she could explain further, Alfie nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“What…? You know?”
“Who doesn’t?”
Alfie shrugged casually like it was common knowledge. Lucien looked up at him anxiously.
“That’s called a Word Spell.”
