TREV 18

Chapter : 18

“Huh?”

“Lady Emma said the young lady might form a connection with the young duke—that you might become the Duchess Gerhardt.”

“Emma said that?”

Judging from the fact she’d blabbed even to a child, I could imagine perfectly what sort of rumors must be spreading through the mansion.

“Is it true? Are you really getting married?”

“No!”

Come to think of it, I preferred it when Emma just glared daggers at me.

Right. Maybe it really is better to fire Emma now, before it gets worse.

“I told you before. I don’t have any friends. The young duke doesn’t either.”

“What?”

“People without friends are stuck going together. We have no choice.”

Carlos looked oddly troubled.

“……”

The slight furrow in his brow made him seem like he had worries no child his age should have.

After a long silence, Carlos spoke again.

“But… I told you I’m your friend.”

“Hm?”

“We’re each other’s only friend, right? Aren’t we?”

“…Yes. We are.”

Carlos finally smiled, pleased.

His cheeks lifted, eyes folded sweetly.

His long lashes cast a faint shadow over his white skin.

It was such a perfect smile.

And yet…

Why did I feel unsettled?
A tiny, ominous prickle crept up my spine.

“…Carlos?”

“Yes?”

But the moment I met those pure, innocent eyes, all I could do was shake my head.

“No, it’s nothing. Eat up.”

Knock knock.

“My lady, the young duke has arrived!”

Emma’s voice was downright bubbling as she announced his visit.

“Well then hurry and come in here and get these things off me.”

At this point I was certain: I should fire her.

“Yes, my lady! I’ll help right away.”

Emma hauled my limp body off the sofa and dragged me to the vanity.

The moment I sat down, my eyebrows knit together.

“Oh my, my lady. You look stunning!”

Even as she removed each bizarre hair contraption wrapped around my head, Emma did not miss a beat of fussing and gushing.

“At this rate, you might really become the duchess!”

Her skillful fingers only managed to fluff my hair into an even wilder mess.

Thanks to her, a lion was now staring back at me in the mirror.

“I really am good with my hands.”

“……”

Emma declared confidently as she shoved a pin into the curls.

All this after she caused such a scene last night—insisting I had to look perfect for Lawrence Gerhardt.

Three hours of soaking in rose oil, scrubbing until raw, shining like metal—and what did I get?
A lion.

Was this fair?

Hadn’t Emma promised to repay my kindness?

“You needn’t worry at all about the ball today, my lady!”

“Haa….”

Right.

This was what terrified me most.

Emma genuinely believed I looked beautiful.

“Yes, Emma.”

She truly believed in her ‘talent’, and she had put her whole heart into this to repay her debt.

“The young duke must be waiting. I should go down now.”

“Yes, my lady. Wait just a moment!”

You can’t spit on a smiling face, they say.

They were right—ancestors rarely lie.
There was no way I could fire Emma looking that thrilled.

With a little ceremony, Emma draped a shawl over my shoulders.

In the middle of summer, no less.

“Now?”

“Yes! Perfect!”

I could not have looked more flamboyant—nor more chaotic.

Today, I discovered something astonishing.

That this face could be used like this.

Any remaining dignity threatened to drain away completely.

Would Lawrence still have any fondness for Patricia?

Would he see this disaster and take back his invitation?

“Pfft!”

“Long time no see, young duke.”

“Ah—ah….”

The moment I entered the drawing room, Lawrence’s eyes doubled in size.

He was just drinking tea—
And promptly spat some back out.

Wiping frantically at his mouth, he stared at me in disbelief.

“Your hair…”

“……”

“…Are you all right?”

At last, his voice returned to normal.

But he couldn’t hide the tremble in his eyes.

He stared back and forth between my hair and me, equal parts worry and shock.

“I dressed up because you were coming.”

Are you all right?

Seeing him look at me like I was deranged, I rushed to clarify before he misunderstood further.

“I… see.”

Lawrence coughed awkwardly and looked away, perhaps realizing how rude he’d sounded.

“……”

“……”

He kept stealing glances at me.

He seemed genuinely worried he’d offended me.

“Your hair is… yes, quite… unique.”

He could not bring himself to say pretty or suits you—instead leaving the safest compliment imaginable.

And that was probably the best he could do.

“I’ll have you know this took all morning.”

I nodded graciously and walked to the sofa.

“I heard you told my father you’d asked me to be your partner at the ball. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I know you said it for my sake.”

Strangely, he did not look angry today.

Maybe because I’d accepted his help.
Maybe because I’d realized he wasn’t as frightening as I believed.

“I’ll repay your help if I ever get the chance.”

“……”

“Really. If there’s anything you want, please tell me.”

I couldn’t explain it, but I no longer disliked him.

And if nothing else, I knew how to return a favor.

“Then find my photograph.”

“Oh… yes.”

Of course, the moment I volunteered repayment, he reminded me of that.

On second thought, maybe precise accounting made me seem heartless.

Sometimes you just have to accept help.

“I’m really trying to find it. I still haven’t, yet.”

Realistically, I would never find that lost photograph.

But I couldn’t say that to him.

How could I admit that I lost it, and that recovering it was impossible?

All I could do was keep searching until he gave up.

‘If only he’d give up soon…’

Until then, I’d obey every order—if it eased his anger even a little.

It was all I could offer the boy who’d lost his mother’s photograph because of Patricia.

“……”

I bowed deeply, guilt flooding me.

“Tch. You don’t need to come to the duke’s manor next week.”

“What? I shouldn’t go to the Gerhardt estate?”

“That’s right.”

He nodded slightly.

Huh?

He gave up far quicker than I imagined—I blinked.

“Then… the photo…?”

“What are you talking about? You’re still finding it.”

I opened my mouth to confirm—but his firm reply shut me up instantly.

“You’re grounded.”

“Oh. Right.”

“So I’ll come here instead.”

“…Sorry?”

“I’ll come once a week.”

He wasn’t giving up.
He was accommodating me.

It should have been touching, and it was, but…

“Thank you.”

“……”

“……”

After that, silence thickened.

We had nothing left to say.

He’d accomplished his reason for coming.

“….”

I glanced at the clock, wondering when he’d leave.

But from the way he leisurely sipped his tea, it wouldn’t be until the last drop.

“…….”

“Thank you again—for escorting me to the ball when you didn’t have to.”

Awkwardness pushed me to break the silence.

The truth was, you didn’t have to attend the ball with your partner.

It helped, but it wasn’t required.

Only people with mutual interest paired up.

The only reason Lawrence claimed me as his partner was simple:

Without that excuse, he had no plausible reason to visit the duke’s mansion without revealing my crime.

His cover story was the most convincing option available.

“I know how much you dislike me, so I’m even more grateful.”

“…Patricia.”

“Yes?”

Lawrence’s expression suddenly darkened.

Had I said something wrong?

His brow tightened.

He stared at me with those red eyes, but said nothing.

“Young duke? Did you want to—”

“No. Forget it.”

He shook his head and set down his cup.

“I’ll be going now.”

“Oh—yes.”

I stood immediately.

He paused at the open doorway, still frowning at me.

But again, he said nothing and turned away.

“……”

He lifted his hand toward the doorknob—
Then stopped, dropped it, and stood still.