🌷 🌷 🌷
“THANK you, Lady Narve. I’m sure my daughter will love it,” Samael said as he accepted the tablecloth with crinkled eyes and a goofy smile, an expression that usually indicated he was picturing his young daughter. Seeing that, Ophelia, too, smiled with relief.
“You can’t tell there was ever a stain, right?”
Bruno let out an impressed grunt as he peeked over at the tablecloth in Samael’s hands. On Samael’s other side, Angelo was also looking at the tablecloth with rapt interest.
“My daughter is depressed because she spilled soup on her favorite tablecloth and left a stain.”
It was only last week that Samael had said this, his shoulders drooping. Ophelia couldn’t stand seeing Samael, who treated her just like his own daughter, feeling so down. So she’d made a suggestion… She told him she could probably cover the stain up with embroidery and make it a bit less noticeable.
The stain was larger than she’d originally pictured, but she’d done her best to cover it with a pattern of vines with dark green leaves, small white birds, and a centerpiece of a round little owl. She’d found it a bit difficult to depict the white birds’ fluffy plumage, but she thought it had turned out cute, fitting for a young child.
“Did Bernie really draw this?” Angelo asked incredulously, reaching out toward the tablecloth. Samael shoved it behind his back to keep it away from Angelo.
“I didn’t realize Bernie was so talented.”
“Yes, I made the embroidery pattern based on Bernard’s sketch.”
Everyone had taken to calling Ophelia’s older brother Bernard “Bernie.” The white birds were a species that could often be spotted in the Narve family’s garden. As for the owl, it seemed Bernard had been inspired to sketch it after seeing one when a friend of his had dragged him along on a hunting trip.
“But you know, Bernie has a pretty impressive resume if you think about it. He’s the heir to an earldom with a long history, works at the Royal Palace, possesses a special ability, and has artistic talent.”
Bruno’s assessment left Ophelia tilting her head to the side dubiously. Certainly, her brother was unexpectedly multi-talented. However, his rather cowardly and passive personality overshadowed that, leading to him being unpopular with the ladies. Ophelia couldn’t help feeling that Bernard was quite pathetic.
“I owe you one, Lady Narve. Is there anything you can think of that you might like as a thank-you gift?”
“That’s not necessary! This was the least I could do after how well you’ve treated me.”
She was genuinely happy just to see how much he liked it. Watching Samael carefully fold up the tablecloth and put it in his bag filled her with a deep sense of satisfaction.
Maybe that was why Ophelia didn’t notice that her hands, still clutching the brown embroidery bag, were shaking faintly.
She’s hiding something in that brown bag.
Everyone other than Ophelia had the exact same thought. But no one was brazen enough to bring it u—
“Hmm? What are you hiding in your bag, Ophie?” Angelo asked, pointing to the bag in Ophelia’s hands. Her shoulders jerked in surprise, and she forced an awkward smile, which made her legs start shaking as well.
“Idiot! Let a lady have her secrets!” Samael cuffed Angelo on the side of the head, and Angelo gawked at his boss with an incredulous expression.
“But if we all notice and don’t say anything, Ophelia’s sure to find out, right? So it’s better to just be up front and ask, don’t you think?”
“I suppose you have a point …”
Bruno’s eyebrows drooped dejectedly, and he clutched his forehead with one hand, looking down. Realizing that she needed to do something quick to alleviate the dark mood that had settled over her coworkers, Ophelia quickly pulled the notebook out of her bag and flipped it open.
“U-Um, actually! There’s something I’ve been worrying about… And I’d really appreciate some advice, if you wouldn’t mind…” She should’ve known surprises were impossible for her. Ophelia gave in to the inevitable and came clean. “I’m bad at expressing myself with words, so I was thinking I’d like to embroider something for the director to show him I’m happy about our engagement, but I can’t decide on the perfect design!”
Ophelia, who’d already decided to rely on her coworkers when she needed help, explained the situation frankly without trying to conceal anything. She wasn’t capable of lying anyway, and they’d all promised to support her in any way they could when it came to her engagement with Claudio. So there was really no reason not to tap such an invaluable resource.
“You want to sew your pure-hearted feelings into a present for Claudio…? What a lucky dog…” Samael mimicked wiping away tears.
“Is it really okay for us to hear of this before the director himself?” Despite the way he fidgeted nervously, Bruno seemed secretly pleased about the notion.
“Wow! This is so exciting! I love hearing about love stories!”
Angelo eagerly waved his arm back and forth in a “pick me!” motion, then spun in a happy little circle. Ophelia couldn’t help laughing at how much he resembled a dog when he did that.
Fortunately, Claudio would be gone all day today. They brought their chairs over so they could congregate around Samael’s desk and think it over together.
“I think something aristocratic, like a long whip cracking over a backdrop of roses, would be nice!” Angelo said.
“There’s something fundamentally disturbed about your impression of the aristocracy.”
“Going with his family crest would be a safe bet.”
“Wouldn’t that be overstepping a bit, acting as if I’m already his wife?” Ophelia said.
“What about a white horse lifting its legs high as it gallops along at breakneck speed?”
“I think there’s already a brand that uses something like that as their logo…”
They all offered their opinions, but they still couldn’t come up with a usable idea. It was easy enough to think of things that the perpetually grumpy Claudio would hate, but nothing much immediately came to mind for things he might actually like. By the time the coffee in their cups had dwindled halfway, everyone had fallen silent.
“…Just do a picture of his face. Oh, with pretty pink flowers in his pretty pink hair!”
“Angelo, are you trying to start a fight between a harmonious couple?” Bruno bit out, his hands wrapped around his now-tepid mug of coffee. Then he turned to Samael and asked, “Don’t you have any insider information that only his milk brother would know?”
With everyone’s eyes fixed hopefully on him, Samael frantically searched his memory for anything that might prove useful. “…Oh! Come to think of it, back when he still lived in the Royal Palace, he used to grow lisianthus in the palace gardens. Maybe that’s his favorite flower?”
“Lisianthus… What color were they?”
When Ophelia asked this, Samael folded his arms and let out a long grunt. Then, after a moment, he muttered, “I can’t remember…”
Even so, a pattern of lisianthus flowers began spreading inside Ophelia’s head, the first seeds of a design beginning to take shape.