Chapter 63
“I’ve recently taken an interest in riding myself.”
“Is that so. It’ll make for a fine hobby.”
“You handled the horse so skillfully that day… Do you have any tips?”
“Tips.”
Hitaon paused a moment, then spoke.
“Just give it a good name.”
“A name?”
“Yes. A name the horse likes, and one that pleases its master’s heart too—something with that kind of sense.”
“Does your horse have a name?”
“It does. Ebony.”
“Ebony. A fine word. Was it named that because it’s a black horse?”
“Probably so.”
Probably? He’d named it himself—why use that expression? As if someone else had given it the name…
Just as Panae registered this oddity, the carriage jolted. Hitaon drew back the curtain and checked outside. They’d entered the square lined with shopfronts; the road had changed underfoot. It seemed the carriage had swayed heavily crossing the transition point.
“It looks like we’ve already reached the square. Being with you, Sir, it feels as if time is flowing faster than usual.”
“…….”
“Sir Glair?”
Even at the remark she’d tossed out deliberately to gauge his reaction, Hitaon didn’t stir. His obsidian eyes were fixed outside the carriage window. Whatever he was staring at so intently, that quiet focus pulled in even the gaze of the one watching him.
Then, softly, he smiled. Light and serene. Warm, as if melting away. Just as he had in the banquet hall—as if intending to tickle some corner of a person’s heart.
Did the man before her realize? That there was a vast difference between who he was when he played the social game and who he was when he was unguarded. Given the flawless composure he’d shown until now, surely he didn’t. In a different sense, he was a terribly cruel man.
“Sir Glair?”
“Ah.”
“Is there something unusual outside? You haven’t been able to take your eyes off it.”
“Forgive my rudeness. A flower girl was charming—she caught my gaze for a moment.”
But no matter how much one scanned the bustling main street on a fine afternoon, there was no flower girl to be seen. What had caught the eye instead was a woman with black hair, just turning away.
There was no other reason. Simply that her face was lovely enough to seize the gaze in an instant. Of course, she was no man, so the curiosity was brief, and he withdrew his attention just as quickly.
“Thanks to you, I’ve returned safely to the estate. I’m grateful you were so attentive to the very end, Sir.”
“It was a trivial matter—please feel free to forget it. It was a short but pleasant escort.”
The man maintained formal courtesy to the very last and then departed. Panae waited until the carriage had left the estate gardens, then turned. The butler, who had heard the news and come out beforehand to greet her, approached.
“My lady, I was informed about the carriage. Was your journey back all right?”
“Thanks to Sir Glair’s assistance, I was able to return comfortably.”
“What a relief. You must be greatly fatigued—I’ll escort you to your chambers. This way.”
Arriving at her chambers, Panae sat before the vanity. The maids, who’d followed without a sound, took their places at her head, hands, shoulders, and feet, helping her shed her finery.
“A letter has arrived for you, my lady.”
The butler presented a silver tray. Her expression changed the moment she spotted the golden envelope tucked among the others.
“Someone from the imperial palace came this morning.”
“The reason?”
“They inquired about the expected date of your entry into the palace, my lady.”
“What deeply humbling attention.”
Her smile gone, Panae spoke with a sneer and gestured for the tray to be taken away.
“Say I will reply by letter, and send the palace messenger on his way.”
“Yes.”
Once the matter was settled, hands approached to undo her adornments.
As she gazed quietly into the mirror, a sharp pain grazed the back of her hand. Panae’s lips twisted and a short groan escaped. The maid who had made a mistake while removing her gloves threw herself flat on the floor, utterly horrified.
“I-I’m so sorry, my lady! I made a mistake…”
Panae spread her hand wide. A thin scratch marked the skin. Her gaze fell upon the back of the maid’s hand pressed against the floor.
“Your hands are so clean.”
“P-Pardon?”
“While you’ve made mine look like this.”
The maid’s face drained of all color, going pale.
“I deserve death for this offense. I truly deserve death!”
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