Chapter : 27
Knock, knock.
I heard a light tapping on the door.
I quickly rose from my seat at the sound.
A maid?
But no matter how long I waited, the person knocking didn’t say a word.
Just a little while ago when she brought my meal, she’d told me she would leave the tray outside so I could eat comfortably, then left.
But for some reason, this time there was no voice at all.
“Come in.”
I reached out to open the door, then lowered my hand and spoke instead.
At last, the door opened, and Lawrence was standing outside.
He was holding a basket filled with clothes.
“Did you eat?”
“…Yes.”
“I ran into a maid on the way here.”
He added, as if aware of my gaze.
“Can I come in for a moment?”
“Ah, yes.”
At his words, I stepped aside from the doorway.
“This might take a while—have a seat.”
Lawrence set the basket on the table and took a seat on the sofa.
“This is medicine—apply it on your wounds.”
He jerked his chin toward the basket.
“Ah… thank you.”
The unexpected kindness made me awkwardly rub the forehead I’d bumped earlier.
“So how did you end up here?”
“I got caught sneaking out.”
“You were forbidden to go out, right?”
His eyes flicked lightly over my clothes.
“So you got kicked out?”
When I nodded, he let out a small sigh.
“Hearing you were thrown out, I thought you’d done something serious.”
“I left because they tried to hit me.”
Lawrence sighed again.
“Good. You did the right thing.”
“…Pardon?”
“You did well leaving. Why sit there and get hit for no reason?”
His praise suddenly made my eyes sting, and I looked away.
Back there, everyone had said it was my fault.
But this stranger was telling me I’d done well.
“So where did you go?”
“…A photo studio.”
“A photo studio?”
“I thought maybe I could find the young lord’s photo…”
Lawrence definitely hated me.
The first day, the next time, and the one after that—every visit ended with him trembling with disgust, filled with hatred.
So why was he being kind like this?
It made sense he hated me.
Not only had I taken his mother’s keepsake, I’d lost the photograph too.
Yet Lawrence had shown me leniency.
He’d secretly helped me slip out of the duke’s estate
and had come all the way to the Herarilla estate to find me.
And now he was sheltering me.
“And did you?”
“I thought maybe they still had the film… or a duplicate.”
“Film?”
“But what did they call it? They said it was a daguerreotype and that even if there’s an original, it can’t be copied.”
My guilt grew heavier.
“Of course not. How would you copy that?”
He let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“…I’m sorry.”
I felt even worse. There was no longer any way to find that photo.
“I searched the whole room but couldn’t find it. I don’t think it can be found.”
Maybe I said it because I wanted to show how grateful I was for his kindness.
“The photo studio was my last hope…”
I couldn’t lie anymore, not when he might be waiting for the photo.
I couldn’t ask him to wait longer.
Better the truth than false hope.
Pathetic, flimsy honesty.
“I really searched hard, but it wasn’t there. I even checked every tiny gap where a piece of paper might fit.”
But my flimsy honesty quickly turned to panic—
What if Lawrence got angry and threw me out too?
“It might already be torn, or maybe the paper was too small and got damaged.”
I dragged my words out, in hopes he’d understand that the photo had been impossible to find from the beginning.
“Paper?”
Lawrence tilted his head.
“Paper. The photo.”
He frowned, as though I’d said something absurd.
“……”
A long silence passed.
He stared at me quietly.
“You think a photo is paper?”
Then came the strangest question.
“…Isn’t it?”
Lawrence blinked.
“No.”
Wait—photo paper isn’t paper?
Then… cardboard?
No—the ji in inhwaji means paper!
“…Excuse me?”
“Hold on.”
Lawrence slipped out of the room.
After a long moment, he returned with a small case.
“Open it.”
When I lifted the lid, the inside was lined with velvet.
Inside was a gold-framed silver plate.
And on that silver plate sat a woman with a gentle smile.
A black-and-white image.
“This is… a photo?”
Lawrence nodded.
“It’s not paper.”
“You were searching without even knowing what a photo was…”
He shook his head as I stared blankly at the metal image.
“……”
“…Enough.”
Click.
He shut the lid I’d been staring at.
“So you were telling the truth?”
“…Sorry?”
“You meant it when you said you’d never seen a photograph.”
“……”
“I see.”
“…See what?”
“That losing my mother’s photo wasn’t your fault. Though I’m still angry you picked up someone else’s belonging and hid it for that long.”
He continued speaking, but I couldn’t look away from the case in his hand.
My mind was still reeling.
Was it engraved by laser?
No—how advanced was science here?
Magic?
“……”
“Stop looking for the photo.”
“…What?”
“You’re not at fault. You don’t need to take responsibility.”
“Really? I really don’t have to look anymore?”
The words I’d desperately wanted at last reached my ears.
I sprang to my feet with my hands clasped together.
“……”
Silence fell—then I realized this was not something to celebrate.
My grin dissolved.
I awkwardly bent my knees and sat back down.
Of course, it was the best news for me.
But for Lawrence, it meant letting go of his mother’s photograph—
giving up hope of ever finding it.
“…I’m sorry.”
Face solemn, I offered my apology.
Too many shocking things had happened; I’d completely failed to read the atmosphere.
“Haa…”
Lawrence sighed deeply, and I bowed my head lower.
“By the way, does the Duke of Herarilla know you’re here?”
He changed the subject.
I couldn’t have been more grateful.
I quickly raised my head and nodded.
“Should I send someone to notify them?”
“No… They probably won’t look for me. I doubt they’re even curious.”
Well, I am their daughter… maybe they’re worried?
“They told me never to come back.”
“……”
“But I’m not planning to freeload forever. I’ll leave soon. Very soon.”
Lawrence’s jaw tightened.
After quite a long pause, he finally spoke again.
“It’s late. Get some rest. And apply the medicine.”
For some reason, I sensed sympathy in his eyes.
Was he pitying the child thrown out of her home?
Or worried I’d end up wandering in the streets?
Click.
The door shut behind him, and I was left alone—
and strangely uneasy about the look in his eyes.
“Haa…”
The sky was still dark.
Chirr, chirr.
Through the open window drifted the sounds of insects and birds.
The heavy warmth of a summer night pressed against my skin,
but it wasn’t enough to keep me awake.
The reason I couldn’t sleep wasn’t the heat.
“Haa…”
I rolled over again.
“What was that look?”
Why had Lawrence looked at me like that?
Like he pitied me.
Like he felt sorry for me.
…Had I truly hit bottom?
Did I look to him like a girl abandoned by her family with no future ahead?
That I’d end up a beggar on the streets?
Or a maid serving a noble house for the rest of my life?
“For heaven’s sake, what’s so pitiful about that!”
Regret surged again—
I shouldn’t have come out.
I should have just taken the beating and stayed.
“No, more importantly, I should’ve at least grabbed the tailored dresses…”
But of course that hadn’t been possible.
Damn it.
I didn’t even have enough money for rent, let alone buying a house.
Maybe I should borrow a month’s rent from Lawrence?
If I promised to repay him, maybe he’d lend it.
“……”
No. That wasn’t right.
He already took me in without turning me away today.
How could I ask for more?
“……”
Fine. If I’ve relied on him this much already, I may as well rely just a bit longer.
If I couldn’t borrow money, I would end up on the street.
What I needed to think about now was how to get Lawrence to lend me the money.
Staying here longer wasn’t for his sake either—
better to borrow money and move out quickly.
“No point dragging it out. I’ll ask tomorrow.”
Chirr, chirr.
The insects outside were still singing.
Tomorrow would surely be busy—
so I wanted to sleep.
But no matter how tightly I closed my eyes, the chirping rang loud and clear.
A summer night that simply refused to let me sleep.
