❦❦❦
THE worst of the summer’s heat might have passed, but Yuuri couldn’t tell. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was her anxiety over Ernest’s absence, or maybe it was just her unquenchable thirst. All she knew was that, for several days now, she had a desperate craving for blood.
But her symptoms were light. She could hold out a little longer. Yuuri tried to appease her thirst as much as possible with tea, hoping that Ernest would return soon.
Occasionally, she received letters from him. The letters usually featured overtures so melodramatic that she was sure he had stolen them from the lyrics of some opera. She thought back to the love letters Joel Weller’s father had left behind. These were worse. She giggled at the thought that the deceased baron was so ashamed of his innocuous poetry while Ernest reveled in his own.
Yuuri blushed at the idea of anyone sending her love letters. She quickly resealed the envelopes. What he wrote might have been his true feelings, but she was too embarrassed to do more than skim it. It felt like some sort of punishment to her.
Ernest was intelligent and good with people, or at least that was how Yuuri saw him. But she had put him down, mocking his art and saying his writing style made him sound creepy.
That was only because she didn’t like the way his words threw her heart into chaos, not for lack of skill on Ernest’s part. She was both amused and mortified that someone could write such embarrassing things.
Yuuri’s responses were cold and matter-of-fact. She only reported events and sparse details, like how she was slowly becoming comfortable around Simon again.
She could never write something as sincere as, “I miss you, please hurry back to me.”
He hadn’t written anything regarding the position in Fosdan, so she was left to assume he was merely busy with work.
With her days steeped in loneliness, Yuuri was only just learning that the illegal gambling ring had finally been brought down.
On her way back from the bazaar that morning, the headline “The Fall of a Noble Dynasty. Was it All in the Art?” caught her eye and she purchased the newspaper. The article gave all the details of the final takedown.
Was Ernest on his way right now? Or was he still caught up in paperwork?
I shouldn’t get my hopes up.
Yuuri repeated those words over and over, but her heart’s desires would not be silenced. Before she knew it, she was running around, meticulously cleaning her shop and insuring (multiple times) that she had plenty of his favorite tea.
She usually fell asleep reading during the day, but she tried to keep busy enough so he wouldn’t catch her napping.
It was only once the sun was at its brightest that the man she had been so eagerly awaiting opened her door and stepped inside.
“Hey, Miss Yuuri! Sorry to keep you waiting! I bet you’ve been dying to see me!”
After a long month apart, Ernest walked right over to Yuuri, who was standing by the couch.
“Welcome.”
Ernest pulled Yuuri into his arms. Normally, he would hold her until he sensed she was genuinely trying to pull away, then let go. But this time, Yuuri made no attempt to pull away. She wanted to make up for all the time they had been apart.
“…I see. So absence really does make your heart grow fonder.”
Yuuri wanted to stay like this as long as she could manage. So she said nothing, merely listening to the beating of his heart. What normally frightened her was all she wanted today.
“Miss Yuuri? What is it? What’s wrong?” Ernest asked in a soft voice.
Yuuri’s sudden display of affection had shocked him, and she liked that. When she had finally had enough, she pulled away to get a look at the expression he wore. His baffled face pleased her.
“I knew it. The one time I don’t push you away, you’re completely flummoxed…”
He knew how uncomfortable she was when he tried to hug her and teased her mercilessly for it. He was always the one in control. But today, she had taken control and taken him by surprise. But she was content to let him think she was merely acting on impulse.
“I’m not flummoxed.”
“Oh, so you’re just a poor loser then.”
“…Not at all. Why don’t you put your little theory to the test?”
He was such a cad. Now that he knew what she was thinking, he definitely wouldn’t give in.
“No, because I can see that look in your eye. You’re plotting something.”
“You’re as perceptive as ever, my little witch.”
Ernest gave up and took his usual seat. Yuuri went into the back to prepare some tea. She swiftly filled the camellia teacups she hadn’t used in his absence.
Unlike tea prepared in Hylant, the tea was transferred from the small teapot to the cups partway through the preparation process. If this step was done in a timely fashion, it allowed the flowery aroma to become even stronger. It also gave the tea itself a smoother, less bitter flavor.
She set two teacups and the teapot on the tray, along with some teacakes. She placed a cup in front of Ernest and took the seat next to him.
In the past, when she took that spot beside him, she always had to come up with some excuse. But over time, her feelings toward him, as well as their relationship, had begun to change.
“Oh, how I’ve missed the taste of this. It’s a bit different than what we have at my manor. I wonder why? Perhaps it’s only good if I drink it here?”
He was close. It likely wasn’t the place one drank the tea, but whom they drank it with that was important. One cup in the company of a special person was more delicious than a hundred cups anywhere else. But Yuuri couldn’t bring herself to say that out loud. So she silently sipped away, happy he enjoyed her company as much as she enjoyed his.
“So I see you and Simon have been getting along well in my absence.”
“Yes. After I gave him the hat, we paid a visit to the Aldridges, some family friends of ours, to see their cotton roses.”
The only thing Yuuri had done in his absence that was out of the ordinary was going out with Simon. That was why most of her letters were about her brother.
“Your letters are so concise. All you told me was that you went.”
“I’m not very good at letter writing. And I could never write those flowery, mushy sentences like you do.”
“I merely write from the heart. But I know you have a hard time being open… So tell me all about what you have been up to in my absence.”
Yuuri did have a lot she wanted to tell him. About their meeting with the elderly man who had been her grandmother’s good friend. About the stories he told them. About how she had finally learned to look Simon in the eye.
About how Ernest’s words were what had made her feel optimistic for the future.
But the thing she wanted to tell him most, she was too embarrassed to say.
He listened intently to everything she had to say, even as he interrupted from time to time to tease her.