SMTD 07

Chapter 7 ….

The Countess of Presto carefully observed Elena’s demeanor.

‘Where on earth is that rascal? Why hasn’t he shown up yet?’

Surely, the moment he heard a guest had arrived, he would have gone over to the annex—but he still hadn’t come. The fact that this timid-looking young lady had come all the way here could only mean Maxim had left some kind of opening.

Elena slowly rose from her seat. Placing her hands neatly over her chest and holding the hem of her skirt, she gave a graceful greeting.

“Good day, Countess Presto. My name is Elena of House Joseph. Thank you so much for welcoming me.”

Goodness.

Such a well-mannered and lovely child—so rare these days. The Countess of Presto swallowed hard.

“My name is Hazel Presto. Please, just call me Lady Hazel.”

Hazel deliberately shortened the distance between them.

“Yes, my lady.”

Elena managed a small smile. When she came to see Maxim, she never expected to meet a major figure of Lebunto’s society. Or perhaps… she had deliberately tried not to think about it?

Maybe she had focused on nothing but this one reason—that she was coming all this way to see the man who had danced with her once—while willfully ignoring everything else.

But Elena trusted Maxim that day.

Unlike the other boorish men, he had behaved like a gentleman from start to finish. She wanted to believe in that man.

“Thank you for coming, Elena. May I call you Elena?”

“Yes, my lady. Please, call me whatever is most comfortable.”

Her bright smile was beautiful. She was like a ray of spring sunlight.

“I heard you came to see Maxim. He’s off somewhere and hasn’t shown up yet, so I came myself. Did I startle you?”

“A little,” Elena said with a faint laugh.

“Well, when I heard a guest had arrived, I couldn’t contain my curiosity. You danced with Maxim before, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, my lady.”

So she remembered. Elena swallowed nervously. That day, she had been no different from a clown—drawing the eyes of the crowd, reading scorn and criticism in their gazes.

Surely the Countess of Presto must have looked at her the same way. Elena’s hands tightened around the hem of her skirt.

“That day was…”

“It was a splendid dance. I thought you and Maxim suited each other quite well.”

Elena’s lips pressed together, and her eyes widened. She had not expected to hear anything like that. Nor had she ever imagined anyone would say she matched Maxim.

“May I ask where you learned to dance?”

The Countess of Presto also knew about House Joseph. She remembered it as a fairly respectable family in the past, but after coming to Lebunto, it had sunk like a shipwreck.

And she’d heard rumors about the girl’s mother running around, making a spectacle of herself.

[She’s a vulgar woman.]
[My lady, how can that woman be so shameless?]
[She gambled the family into ruin, you know.]

She recalled those whispered conversations. For such a lovely child to be raised under a woman like that… the heavens truly had no mercy.

“…I learned from my father. He’d place me on his feet and teach me himself,” Elena answered, her voice tinged with melancholy. Memories of that day bubbled up like water. She could see her younger self laughing with flushed cheeks as her father watched her with eyes full of love.

[Now, Elena. Hold on tightly to Father’s arm. That’s it! Move just like that.]

That gentle voice echoed in her memory. Her longing for her father often surfaced unexpectedly, prodding at her heart.

“…You had a good father,” Hazel said softly.

“Yes. He was truly a good man,” Elena replied, smiling brightly.

‘Thanks to that father, she grew up this lovely.’

The Countess clicked her tongue in regret. If that father had lived, perhaps the girl’s life wouldn’t have been so difficult. Still, the late Count Joseph had planted and nurtured his child in soil where the light shone brightly—at least, as far as Elena herself was concerned, that was no bad thing.

Cecile Joseph, however, was another matter.

‘That’s an issue for later.’

Hazel smiled gently.

“I learned to dance the same way. My father was a kind man too.”

Elena’s eyes widened. Hazel Presto was a royal princess. Even though Elena lived on the fringes of society, she knew who Hazel was.

To meet her like this was already an honor—but to hear such personal stories from her…

No noblewoman had ever treated Elena with such kindness.

“But I wasn’t very good,” Hazel admitted. “I suppose I just didn’t have the talent. I’ve been terrible with rhythm since I was young. So after I got married, I hardly ever set foot on the dance floor again.”

She winked playfully.

By the time Hazel had finished her gentle probing through conversation with Elena, Maxim finally appeared. He narrowed his eyes slightly at the sight of the two women.

“Oh my, Maxim. What on earth took you so long? Don’t you know you mustn’t keep a lady waiting?”

Hazel rose lightly and tapped Maxim on the shoulder.

“She’s a good girl. I like her,” she whispered.

Maxim sighed quietly. What exactly does she mean by that?

He was still stuck in Lebunto because the Countess of Presto had stubbornly refused to let him return to the capital. He had been busy dealing with urgent documents sent by telegram when the butler came running in a panic, dragging him out.

[If you keep dawdling like this, young master, you might find yourself dragged into a wedding tomorrow.]

And, as it turned out, that panic wasn’t unfounded. If anyone could make the impossible happen, it was Hazel. Maxim gritted his teeth and gave Hazel a light push on the back.

“You must be getting old, Aunt. Meddling in other people’s business like this.”

“Oh my, Maxim, you’ve grown up! You even worry about your dear aunt now.”

Their quiet exchange, inaudible to Elena, ended with Hazel narrowing her eyes in amusement.

“Do be kind,” she said.

Maxim slammed the parlor door shut.

Startled, Elena placed a hand on her chest. As she scrambled to rise, Maxim spoke.

“What brought you all the way here?”

It wasn’t a kind question at all. Was this really the same man who had taken her hand that day?

Unable to greet or answer, Elena sat frozen as Maxim took the seat across from her. He picked up and set down his teacup with long, knotted fingers.

It was a meaningless gesture, but when Maxim did it, it looked both rough and elegant. Elena swallowed nervously.

After taking a deep breath, she finally spoke, slowly and carefully.

“Maxim saved me twice.”

“And?”

“And… you never asked for anything in return for your kindness.”

“Because I didn’t need anything.”

Even his curt reply couldn’t silence her. She forced herself to continue. What she was about to say was absurd even to her own ears—and of course, Maxim would likely reject it.

But Elena had been cornered. This was her only option if she wanted to save herself and Reana.

Her fingertips trembled.

Please, God. You’ve never answered my prayers before. Just this once, be on my side.

Elena prayed desperately.

Her pretty lips parted.

Her father had not raised her to sell herself to some old man. So Elena believed her father would understand her decision to leave this house and her mother behind.

She did her best to ease her guilt.

Opening Reana’s door, she tightened the strap of the bag slung over her shoulder.

Reana was curled up, breathing unevenly in her sleep.

“Reana.”

Elena shook her younger sister’s small hand.

“Reana.”

After repeated calls, Reana slowly opened her tightly shut eyes. Her clear, wide gaze met Elena’s.

“Wake up, Reana.”

“…Sister…?”

Elena dressed Reana and carried her on her back. Without asking any questions, her sweet little sister let her.

Elena slipped quietly out of the decaying house. She avoided the creaky floorboards and rotten planks that could swallow her feet—she knew them by heart.

She wrapped another shawl over Reana’s body and stepped into the pre-dawn darkness.

In her small bag was a single calling card. Maxim’s name was embossed in ornate gold leaf. He had probably already left Lebunto, but this was a trace he had left behind.

[…If you ever need help, seek the Countess of Presto.]

She wondered what kind of man he truly was, that he could so casually invoke the name of the woman currently shaking Lebunto’s economy and high society.

But if it was the esteemed Countess of Presto—!

Elena squeezed Reana’s hand tightly, determined not to let go.