Except during lessons with his tutor, Edmund usually stayed on the second floor, reading books or playing quietly with Sophie. He wasn’t one to wander aimlessly around the first floor, earning puzzled looks from the servants like he was now.
That morning, he had sprawled across the drawing room sofa, idly flicking his toes in time with the ticking of the clock while staring at the patterns carved into the mahogany ceiling. After a while, he jumped up, wandered into the music room, and pounded randomly at the piano keys, listening not to music, but to a clamor of noise. When that got boring, he stood glaring at the garnet earrings of the lady in the painting on the wall.
Eventually, he wandered to the window, propped his chin atop his hands on the windowsill, and gazed out into the garden. His blue eyes settled on the lawn—where he and Sophie had played with blocks the day before.
He remembered the boys peeking at them from beyond the fence. More precisely, he remembered their gawking eyes glued to Sophie. That had made his skin crawl. At the time, he’d wanted to warn them to stay away from her, so he’d shown them with actions—pressing a kiss to Sophie’s cheek.
Though truthfully, he had only mimed the kiss. Even the girls he liked weren’t immune to his aversion to uncleanliness.
He never expected Rose to be among those watching. The way she had run off like a startled rabbit when their eyes met kept replaying in his head. That was probably why he’d felt so strangely dazed since yesterday.
It was like stepping on chewing gum—sticky, clingy, impossible to scrape off. The discomfort gnawed at him.
Did she misunderstand? Did she think I really kissed Sophie? If so… should I explain?
“No, why would I explain myself to some snot-nosed brat?”
He shook his head, eyes narrowing with stubborn defiance as he glared toward the beechwood house.
They’ve brainwashed me, that’s what this is. All this talk about her being my fiancée—I’ve heard it so many times I’m starting to believe it myself.
He had never—not once—considered Rose his fiancée.
He didn’t accept her as one. He would rather die than marry her.
Of all the girls he’d ever met, only Sophie had caught his eye. Only Sophie satisfied his aesthetic sense. Only Sophie was someone he—who usually cared for no one—bothered to care for.
Rose Panning was none of those things. Which meant he didn’t need to think about her. And he definitely didn’t owe her an explanation.
With an annoyed puff through his nose, Edmund turned away from the window.
Besides, she’s the one who ran off saying she was going to play puzzles with Noel. She left me first.
The more he thought about it, the more infuriated he became. Flames of indignation rose in his chest. He headed to the music room to burn off the anger with some furious playing—but his mother’s voice interrupted from outside.
“Ed! I’m heading over to the neighbor’s house for a bit. Want to come?”
He froze. Then, before he could stop himself, he shouted,
“I’ll go too!”
__________𓍯𓂃𓏧♡𓇢𓆸_________
Anna held a jar of preserved plum pie as they left the red-brick house. Edmund recalled what she had told his father at dinner last night—how she was planning to start a gardening club and wanted to ask Rose’s mother to be the first member.
She must be going to make that proposal now.
As they walked beneath the green arch of beech trees, they spotted Rose emerging from the shed.
She was trudging out with a fishing rod and a can, only to freeze like a squirrel caught in headlights the moment she saw them—more precisely, the moment she saw Edmund.
His gaze narrowed. She looked… different.
Wearing a green floral scarf wrapped tightly around her head, she resembled a child sneaking off to steal a neighbor’s chicks. And her face looked as if she’d just been scolded after getting caught red-handed.
Anna smiled and asked gently, “Sweet Rose, where are you headed?”
“To… to the Sadie River,” Rose murmured. “I’m going fishing.”
“Really? Could you take Edmund along with you?”
At the word fishing, Edmund had clutched his mother’s skirt with excitement, but now his heart turned cold at Rose’s reaction.
Her eyes widened like he’d just asked something absurd.
Normally, she would have jumped at the chance—probably bouncing with joy. But now?
She hesitated… then gave the smallest, reluctant nod.
Edmund felt stung. She wasn’t happy to see him at all. Still, when Anna gave him a push from behind, he had no choice but to step forward. His curiosity about fishing barely outweighed his bruised pride.
Without looking at him, Rose mumbled, “Let’s go, Edmund.”
__________𓍯𓂃𓏧♡𓇢𓆸_________
As they walked through the birch woods, Rose didn’t sing or dance like she usually did.
With the baby warbler gone silent, the golden finches tilted their heads and chirped as if asking why she wasn’t singing.
Edmund kept stealing glances at her. The usual fiery halo of her hair was nowhere to be seen. Her scarf was tied tight around her chin, completely hiding her head. Her cheeks were chapped and puffed out, making her face look even rounder than usual—like a Campagne bun.
Whether she realized how silly she looked or not, she hadn’t looked up once. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ground. The weather was bright, but a dark cloud hovered over her alone. No light touched her eyes.
Is she still upset about yesterday?
No, it didn’t feel like simple disappointment. There was something else. Something she was hiding.
Should I ask her what’s wrong?
But just imagining her misunderstanding his concern as affection irritated him, so he kept his mouth shut.
Wordlessly, they arrived at the Sadie River.
But they weren’t alone.
Luca and the boys were already fishing downstream, and Melinda and the girls were lounging in the grass having a picnic.
“Hey, look! The snot-nosed brat and Edmund are here!”
At the sound of Edmund’s name, the girls turned eagerly—only to shrink back when Melinda shot them her infamous dagger eyes.
Meanwhile, the boys cast their lines and snickered.
“Edmund must have a strong stomach—coming here again with that gross brat.”
“Shut up! I came to fish!”
Edmund groaned.
Why did it have to be these idiots?
Just thinking about having to fish near them made him want to go home.
While he clutched his throbbing head, Rose hurried toward the boys, a troubled look on her face. The best spots for catching trout—where the current was strong—were all taken.
“Guys, can Edmund and I fish here too?” she asked.
“Get lost!”
The answer was immediate and loud.
Watching Rose trudge back, face downcast, Edmund sighed.
But then he saw the boys whispering and pointing at Rose’s head. One of them suddenly ran toward her with a wicked grin.
“Rose!” Edmund cried out.
Too late.
The boy grabbed her scarf and yanked it off.
“What are you even—?”
His words stopped short.
Every child by the river—Edmund included—froze at the sight of Rose’s head.
“No!” Rose cried, trying in vain to cover it with her hands.
The lush, flame-colored curls were gone. What remained was patchy, soot-black hair that looked like something had burned it. It was uneven, coarse—shameful.
She looked like a moulting blue jay in midsummer—ugly and ridiculous.
Someone burst out laughing, calling her “bird-brain,” and laughter spread like wildfire.
Rose, crouched in despair, looked to Edmund.
Please, don’t look at me… at least you, don’t look…
But he had already seen. Their eyes met—and he flinched.
His shocked expression, the discomfort in his gaze, wounded her deeply.
He’ll leave me again.
Her green eyes trembled, then fell to the ground. This time, she let the hope go herself.
And just as she feared, Edmund was overcome by a strong urge to walk away.
First her lightning-struck hair… now this? What’s next?
Being with Rose guaranteed he’d be the next laughingstock. Every instinct told him to leave.
But one reason kept him frozen.
If I leave her again, the guilt will eat me alive. This time… she’s the girl who saved me.
He squeezed his eyes shut and held his forehead.
I never thought that night on the mountain would turn into a chain around my neck.
Edmund looked at Rose fumbling to put the scarf back on, recalling the face that had glowed in the dark as she came to his rescue.
A memory he most wanted to forget… yet couldn’t.
Until that memory fades… I can’t leave her.
As if resolved, Edmund clenched his small fists and strode toward the riverbank.
Soon, he stood in front of the girl who had walked him down the mountain that night. Rose looked up, startled, her eyes wide.
Edmund said, “Aren’t you going to teach me how to fish?”
For a moment, she didn’t understand what was happening.
Then someone touched her—warmth on her shoulder, seeping into her chest. The biting loneliness and sorrow melted away.
Her lips quivered. Her nose turned red. Her eyes filled with tears.
She had assumed Edmund would walk away.
Of course he’d leave someone like me.
She had tried to dull the pain by preparing for it—by breaking her own heart first.
But he didn’t leave.
Shaking, Rose covered her mouth with both hands.
As joy overwhelmed her, tears finally spilled down her cheeks.
“Why… why are you crying?” Edmund asked, baffled.
Rose let out a shaky laugh and whispered, voice tight with emotion, “Because… I’m just so happy.”
Edmund’s cheeks turned crimson.
That raw, unfiltered happiness—it moved him. His chest ached with an unfamiliar emotion. It had pierced straight through before he had the chance to stop it.
Panicked, he turned away, pretending to be annoyed.
“Just shut up and show me how to fish! If you dawdle, I’m leaving!”
“Okay!”
Rose quickly wiped her tears and beamed.
The clouds that had hung over her were gone. Sunlight poured down onto her face, and above her, a rainbow shimmered.
