She was relieved.
But why was her heart throbbing so painfully? She felt like she might start crying.
Why am I disappointed…?
Deep in her heart, had she wanted him to hear?
She didn’t know the answer, and she had no idea what expression to put on her face.
“I was a little scared,” Yuri said.
Brigitte blinked. At first, she thought she had misheard him. He had never spoken of fear before. She raised her head. He was looking down, like she had been a few seconds earlier. His bangs hid his face, so she couldn’t guess what he might be thinking.
“…Of what?” she asked anxiously.
“When you went off with Mr. Inad and didn’t come back.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She had heard the essence of what had happened from Kira. Yuri and the others had worked with the spiritologist to find her. Kira had said Yuri’s levelheadedness had saved them.
But still…
Yuri was more shaken than she had ever seen him, as far as she could tell. She stood and walked around the table to his side.
“Sir Yuri, it’s all right. I’m— Huh?!”
She had been about to say I’m here, but before she could, Yuri grabbed her arm so hard her uniform wrinkled. When he finally looked up, his eyes were shining with earnestness.
“I’ll keep you safe from now on.”
His words were like a vow, but his whole body was sweaty, and his face was contorted.
“I won’t take my eyes off you. So…please don’t go off like that again.”
She didn’t know why, but he reminded her of a little child.
Aaah…
She remembered the person who held her hand while she screamed and cried as her father burned her. In her hazy memory, that little hand, the same size as hers, had been trembling. Still, it had saved her.
“…I’m not strong, far from it.”
Yuri’s words came back to her. He had been unable to save the little girl from her torment.
Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him. His cold body was trembling. She stroked his broad back, wanting to reassure him, until his shaking subsided.
“You protected me this time, didn’t you?” she asked.
“…”
“Anyway, I’m not going to disappear.”
“…”
“After all, you could see my red hair from miles away.”
“…True.”
He nodded slightly at her joke. She was relieved, but for some reason, he brought his handsome face close to hers. For a second, she panicked.
What? Whaaat??
But his lips slipped past without touching hers, and instead he reached out, taking her long hair in his hand and bringing it to his face. Like he was taking in the smell, like he wanted his fingers to remember how it felt. He stroked it again and again. His soft breath grazed her cheek.
“Um, Sir Yuri…?”
She squirmed in embarrassment. He softly took a lock of her hair in his hand—and kissed it.
“…!”
Instantly blushing, she stared at him. His citrine eyes were searching her face.
“I—”
…What?
She saw him swallow. His eyes were open wide in astonishment.
“…I’m sorry,” he said quietly, as if returning to his senses.
He dropped her hand, turned on his heels, and started to walk away. After a pause of a few seconds, she ran after him. Something told her she didn’t want to part like this.
“Sir Yuri! Please—”
But the distance between them only widened as he strode on, ignoring her calls. She ran after him, desperate to stop him. “But you—you said you wouldn’t take your eyes off me!”
Her voice turned accusatory.
“You just said that a minute ago!”
The effect was immediate. He took another step or two, then stopped. “I know.”
It was so like him to announce that with a straight face.
“Exactly!” she snapped, standing next to him. She’d forgotten that he was much better at rude comebacks than she was.
“And you said you wanted me to hold your hand forever,” he said.
“Oh…”
So he remembered that. Before the surprise could register, he took her left hand in his. She jumped and made a noise, and he smiled with amusement.
“That was just… I was frantic…”
“Weren’t there other things you could have said?”
“That was all I could th-th-think of!”
He seemed to be enjoying her flustered reaction. “Shall we?”
“…You mean…hold hands?”
His lack of an answer apparently meant yes. Brigitte knew he was teasing her, but his mood had improved, so she decided not to pull her hand away.
As they chatted aimlessly on their way to the carriage stop, she thought back to their conversation at the gazebo. He had started to say something and stopped, but his lips had kept moving. The movement was simple, and she had been watching, so she knew what he was mouthing.
But no, it couldn’t be.
No way.
“I love you.” …Really?!
There was no way he would say that. She shook her head to chase away her fantasies and asked him about something else.
“Sir Yuri, did you understand what Joseph was saying to you that day?”
“Your Highness, are you fully aware of what you did to her?”
“I could say the same to you, Yuri Aurealis.”
Brigitte simply could not make sense of Joseph’s words. After all, Yuri had always protected her.
Even eleven years ago, when my father burned my hand!
She was sure Yuri was the one who held her right hand that day. Which made Joseph’s words especially strange. She could think of no legitimate reason anyone could criticize him. But his face clouded over.
“I understood perfectly,” he said.
“Sir Yuri?”
She heard him mumble above her head.
“…I always knew I didn’t have the right…”
The right…?
He was practically talking to himself, so she couldn’t very well voice her question. His hand in hers was so cold. She didn’t know if the chill was coming from him or her.
When she got back to the cottage, everyone was acting strange. Before the carriage even stopped, she could see people gathered in front of the entryway. Normally, Sienna always greeted Brigitte with a half smile, but today she came running up the second Brigitte stepped down from the carriage. The other servants followed. Brigitte saw confusion, panic—and something verging on terror on their faces.
“Miss…Miss Brigitte,” Sienna said, gazing at her anxiously, her face pale.
“…What’s the matter, Sienna?”
Something must have happened while Brigitte was away.
Just then, the front door swung slowly open.
“Brigitte.”
She froze.
That voice…
For an instant, all the sounds around her faded away, as if she had been dropped into ice.
She hadn’t heard that voice in eleven years. But in her nightmares, she heard it constantly, and it always brought terror with it. Only her own sheer stubbornness kept her from running away. She stood completely still, desperately driving her heels into the ground.
Holding in her ragged breath, she looked up.
Brigitte’s father, Earl Deag Meidell, was standing before her.
He looked down at his daughter with a dull expression.
He spoke with such authority it almost sounded cruel.
“You are forgiven. Return to the main house, Brigitte.”