Chapter 15
The Whitmore estate, set well away from the bustle of the capital, had its own pond.
It was too small to be called a lake, yet too large to be considered a mere pool. Even so, everyone at Whitmore referred to it simply as the pond. And for Chloe, who spent nearly all her time shut away in the library, it was the perfect place to escape the summer heat.
On the soft ground by the water, a picnic blanket suited the setting far better than a table.
Remembering long-ago days splashing in the water with her younger sister, Irene spread the blanket near the pond’s edge.
Stretching her bare feet into the water, she gave the surface a playful kick. Droplets scattered into the air, and the delicious chill was an added bonus.
“It’s really cool. Miss Chloe, would you like to come over here?”
“I’ll pass.”
Chloe refused without hesitation and took a step back from the water’s edge. Apparently, she wasn’t particularly fond of water.
After dipping her feet in once more, Irene slipped her shoes back on without much care and dragged the blanket over beside Chloe.
“Do you not like the water?”
“I only like looking at it.”
Unable to press the matter after Chloe’s curt answer, Irene simply nodded and reclined halfway on the picnic blanket.
Only then did Chloe sit down beside her and open her book.
The quiet was filled with little more than birdsong and the soft rustle of turning pages. Staring absentmindedly up at the sky, Irene broke the silence.
“Don’t you ever feel like writing one yourself, after reading so many?”
“Not at all.”
“There must be stories you’d like to read but can’t find.”
“Why should I be the one to write them? What about you, Miss Irene? Have you ever wanted to?”
“Not really. I just thought you might, since you enjoy them so much…”
Just then, a powerful gust swept through, strong enough to set the tree branches swaying. Welcoming the breeze that cooled the sweat on her skin, Irene tipped her head back and closed her eyes.
Whoosh. Her hair fluttered wildly in the wind. The gust was strong enough to ruffle the picnic blanket itself. By the time it passed and Irene slowly opened her eyes—
“Ah…”
An annoyed sigh came from beside her. Wearing an awkward expression, Chloe looked back and forth between her hand and the pond.
The hat she’d been holding along with her book only moments ago had already been carried out onto the surface of the water.
“Oh! Your hat!”
“We can have the groundskeeper fish it out.”
Chloe replied indifferently from beside Irene, who had already sprung to her feet. Since they’d come without a maid in attendance, however, it seemed likely the hat would sink before anyone could fetch the groundskeeper.
Of course, Chloe, the daughter of one of the kingdom’s greatest houses, remained perfectly unconcerned over the loss of a single hat. Irene seemed to be the only one growing anxious. But that hat…
‘My mother picked it out herself as a gift.’
It was a hat that still carried the late Duchess’s touch.
Unlike jewelry or keepsakes, a hat was something you actually wore when going out. It had been Irene who’d persuaded Chloe, who had spent so long shut away indoors, to wear her ‘mother’s gift’ outside.
She’d meant well. So why did it have to end like this?
Sneaking a glance at Chloe’s expressionless face, Irene saw that those blue eyes were fixed squarely on the hat bobbing on the water. As it rocked, looking as though it might sink at any moment, Chloe’s brows drew together ever so slightly.
Having spent her whole life as an older sister, Irene squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment before looking around. She knew perfectly well there was no reason a carefully maintained garden would have a long pole lying around. Until…
“Huh?”
Following Irene as she sprang to her feet, Chloe’s gaze shifted with her. Striding around the pond, Irene spotted a broom lying on the ground and hoisted it into the air.
Raising it high like a knight drawing a holy sword, she declared:
“I’ll try to fish it out with this.”
“That’s dangerous, Miss Irene. Put it down.”
“It’s fine. I’ve done this before. My younger sibling once threw their shoes into a stream.”
An utterly bewildered silence settled over the pond.
“…You have a younger brother too?”
“Amy was my younger sister.”
Gripping the tree beside the pond with her left hand, Irene stretched her right arm out as far as it would go, making several futile swipes.
“Argh…”
It brought back memories of her childhood, when the Baroness’s two tomboy daughters would come home soaked to the skin after fishing a shoe out of the stream, only to earn a fierce scolding from their mother.
Back then, the only thing they ever had to worry about was Mother’s temper. The memory drew an involuntary smile to her lips. Those days were gone now, existing only in her memories.
Irene, the only one of her family to survive the terrible epidemic, was determined not to dwell on that painful past. She forced the memories aside and focused solely on retrieving the hat.
A gentle breeze rippled across the pond. The hat, which had drifted farther away with each failed attempt, floated just a little closer.
“Huh? I think I can reach it.”
“Miss Irene, I’ll just go fetch the groundskeeper…”
“I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it.”
The instant the brim brushed against the broom, Irene’s eyes sharpened like a hawk sighting its prey. Bracing herself with her left arm, she reached a little farther with her right.
Just a little more… a little more…!
“Oh, oh! I’ve got—!”
And it was just then—
The moment the hat caught on the broom, an ominous snapping sound came from behind her. Crack! No sooner had Irene turned her head than her body pitched sideways.
Now hanging limp, the branch she’d been gripping with her left hand had split halfway through.
Discussion
0 CommentsNo comments yet.