Chapter 43
At dawn, Marsha went straight out to gather herbs. Not far from the house, she crouched low, her hands moving tirelessly until sweat rolled down her temples.
Her body ached with exertion, but her mind felt strangely clear.
She lifted her head and wiped her brow.
It’s hot…
Of course, the labour made her warmer, but the clothes she wore were far too heavy for the weather like this.
What did I wear around this time last year?
Her memory was fuzzy.
She vaguely recalled throwing away a set of clothes that had grown too worn.
Was that the outfit she used to wear this season?
Do I need to buy something new?
But clothes these days seem terribly expensive.
Still… if I really want to return to Dominque, I need to save every coin I can…
Yet Dominque—especially the Emelid County—was famous for its sun-drenched plains, a place bathed in warm light.
Ah…
The emptiness she’d forced into her head came rushing back as a dull ache.
She hated to part with her money, but she needed clothes.
Something cheap. As cheap as possible.
With a sigh, Marsha pushed herself to her feet.
If she processed and sold today’s harvest, it should be enough for at least a skirt.
There’s never enough money… Hm?
When she reached her house, she blinked. The door stood wide open.
But I closed it when I left.
As she drew nearer, a voice drifted from inside—a voice she recognised.
He said it would take three days at the earliest… I didn’t expect him to show up so soon.
Deliberately making noise, Marsha stepped into the house and greeted the speaker warmly.
“Hello.”
“Ah!”
Urian nearly jumped out of his skin.
Marsha flushed in embarrassment.
She’d made a point of announcing herself so she wouldn’t startle him—yet here he was, reacting like someone caught in the middle of mischief.
Why is he so startled?
Like he’s been caught red-handed…
—About twenty minutes earlier, Urian had arrived at the house with four large boxes in his arms.
“You’ve returned sooner than expected. You didn’t just grab whatever was on hand, did you?”
“No, Your Grace. I chose these from the most reputable seller in the Sedem market. And this—” he tapped the second-largest box—“is the very item you requested.”
He then held out the largest box to Claudio.
“These are clothes for you, my lord. The quality is hardly fitting for a duke, but to Marsha, they would seem like something of great value.”
“True. That girl looked as if she might cry when she bought this.”
Claudio’s lips curved in a faint smile.
Urian froze.
Claudio was not a man incapable of laughter—but he was certainly not the sort to smile with such warmth, as if thinking of someone dear.
“You’ll be drooling next,” Claudio said coolly, raising an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”
Urian snapped back to himself and shook his head quickly.
“N-no, my lord. I was merely… distracted.”
“Distracted? While standing in front of me?”
“I—I meant no disrespect. Forgive me.”
Unable to come up with an excuse, he bowed his head in apology.
After checking all four boxes and setting them on the floor, Claudio jerked his chin toward the door.
“You’ve delivered what I asked. Leave.”
“I still have something to report.”
“It can’t be about Marquis Hermes—you’ve uncovered nothing new there.”
“No, not that. This concerns Miss Marsha.”
Claudio’s eyes flickered with interest.
“Oh? Go on.”
“Yesterday, I… encountered her at the Sedem market. Or rather, I saw her.”
At the time, Urian had ducked out of sight the moment he noticed her.
After all, he’d claimed to have other business; it would’ve been awkward to be spotted browsing shops.
“At first I thought she was out shopping with a friend, but something seemed… odd.”
Why hide her face under a hood the moment she left a shop?
The strange feeling nagged at him, so he followed.
The two young women wandered from tavern to tavern, until finally, they ventured into a seedy alley brimming with dangerous-looking men.
“That woman? In a place like that?” Claudio’s voice carried disbelief.
“Yes. She was meeting with an out-of-town informant.”
“You’re certain it was Marsha seeking him out—not her friend?”
Urian nodded firmly.
“Without question. Marsha dealt with the informant alone.”
The moment Marsha had left, Urian had questioned the informant himself.
The man had resisted at first, irritated at being pressed for information without pay—until he got a good look at Urian’s size. Fear loosened his tongue.
Seemed to be looking for someone. Didn’t say who, exactly. But she did ask about the fees charged by city informants. Looked desperate, if you ask me.
“Looking for a person…” Claudio murmured.
So that’s where all her hard work had gone—to save money for this.
But who could she be so desperate to find?
Family?
It made sense.
For a woman to cross borders illegally on her own was nearly impossible.
“She could have come with her family, only for them to vanish for some reason—and now she’s searching for them. Doesn’t that seem likely?”
Urian voiced the same thought Claudio had.
“She couldn’t ask the authorities for help, given her situation. That must be why she turned to informants. My lord… perhaps I should assist her?”
Claudio shook his head at once.
“No. Leave it alone.”
“…What?”
“This matter, I’ll handle later…”
***
Claudio was in the middle of speaking when Marsha entered the house, making her presence known with a light rustle.
“Good morning.”
Claudio smoothed his expression with practised ease, but Urian—like a fool—practically jumped out of his skin.
“Gah!”
“Oh no, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Marsha said with an embarrassed smile.
Urian forced a grin far too wide to be natural.
“N–not at all! You must have been out working.”
“Yes…”
“I should apologise for coming so early, especially when you weren’t even home. And then, just letting myself in like this—”
“It’s fine,” Marsha said gently.
Her easy grace only sharpened Urian’s pang of guilt.
He shot Claudio a quick, nervous glance, but the man simply flicked his eyes toward the door in a clear dismissal.
“Then I’ll take my leave. Until next time—stay well.”
With a deep bow to both of them, Urian slipped away, vanishing as swiftly as a leaf caught in the wind.
“…Were you talking behind my back while I was gone?” Marsha asked lightly, setting the basket of freshly gathered herbs onto the table.
“As if. He’s just jumpy. Like someone else I know.”
Claudio’s voice carried a trace of amusement.
Realising that the “someone” was her, Marsha shot him a reproachful look.
“Think you can handle sorting all these herbs on your own?”
“I can. But this feels suspiciously like payback.”
“It’s not! I’m just really busy, so I have no choice but to ask!”
She sniffed indignantly, but before she could turn away, Claudio spoke again.
“Busy or not, you’ve still got a moment to spare.”
He reached down and lifted a stack of boxes, setting them beside the herb basket.
Three boxes in all, neat and elegant.
Marsha blinked in surprise.
“What’s all this?”
“Didn’t I tell you yesterday? I’d repay you.”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward, his eyes flicking toward the boxes as if urging her to open them.
Still bewildered, Marsha reached for the top box.
This box looks familiar… ah.
It was from the very shop where she’d once bought a birthday gift for Berry’s mother.
When she lifted the lid, her eyes widened.
Nestled inside was a handmade ribboned hairpin—the most expensive piece she’d seen in that shop.
The sheen of mother-of-pearl gleamed softly, elegant and refined, perfectly suited to her thick chestnut hair.
“…Is this… for me?”
“All of it is for you,” Claudio replied casually.
“All of this?” She gestured at the three stacked boxes, her mouth falling open.
“Why did you buy so much?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to call it even for saving my life,” he said with a teasing grin.
Marsha pursed her lips. As if that’s what I was thinking.
It wasn’t about debt—it just felt far too generous, too much for her to accept so lightly.
But she didn’t bother trying to explain that to him.
Instead, she opened the next box—and the frown that had creased her brow melted away in an instant.
Inside was a pair of low-heeled brown leather shoes, fine in quality yet practical, exuding comfort at first glance.
And this engraving… It’s from Ferres, isn’t it?
Ferres was the most renowned craftsman in the region, with orders backed up for entire seasons.
She’d heard it was nearly impossible to get a pair.
How in the world had Claudio managed to procure these?
“And the last one…”
Marsha stared at the mark stamped on the last box, a nervous suspicion creeping over her.
With hesitant hands, she lifted the lid.
Inside lay a dress—one she instantly recognised, its beauty still vivid in her memory.
She sat frozen, eyes fixed on the garment, until Claudio broke the silence.
“What is it? Don’t you like it?”
“No, it’s not that…” Her voice faltered. “I just wonder—did I look so desperate to have this dress?”
Of course, it was lovely.
The fabric shimmered softly, tempting to the eye.
But she hadn’t exactly yearned for it, not in the way he seemed to think.
Claudio gave a short laugh at her words, unexpected amusement glinting in his eyes.
“No,” he said, “I simply thought it would suit you. So I made sure to get it.”
Marsha’s eyes widened, her gaze locking on him.
Claudio leaned his elbow on the table, chin resting in his palm, his thoughts drifting.
It was the first time he had ever given a gift to a young woman.
And to his surprise, it was something so… cheap.
If it were up to me, I would have given her the things I’m used to.
Dresses of fine silk.
Jewellery that sparkled like starlight.
But he could already imagine her reaction—indifference, perhaps even discomfort.
Trinkets with no practical value.
To her, it would be better to simply receive money.
And so he had reluctantly chosen pieces she could actually wear, items of modest quality yet comfort.
Still… I can’t say I feel entirely pleased about it.
There was something about Marsha—a quiet dignity that never seemed to leave her.
Even after hours of labour, shoulders bent and hands worn, she returned with the grace of a lady who might have just stepped out of a ballroom.
She would have looked exquisite in fine gowns and jewels, he was certain.
And yet, here she was, with only a simple dress in her lap.
