The morning sun was bright. Angie woke up from her light sleep. She tried to open her eyes as usual, but her eyelids wouldn't move. She was hazy, like in a state of sleep.
At this time of year, it would have been normal to hear birds chirping outside the window. But there were no birds. Her ears were filled with emptiness as if she was submerged in deep water.
She couldn't even open her eyes. She tried to swing her arms and legs hard, but she couldn't feel anything. Then, someone's call rang out dully like waves in the water.
"Hey!"
It was a young man's voice. The voice she was hearing for the first time gradually became clearer.
"Hey, lady over there- Can you hear me? Can you see me?"
Angie tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't. Her clear voice sounded muffled and disjointed as if it were muffled underwater.
"Miss! Can you hear me or not? My name is..."
“Haat!”
Angie woke up with a start. Her heart was pounding. So hard that she wondered if something was wrong with her body. As she saw the familiar room, her heartbeat gradually calmed down. Angie let go of the hand that was clutching at her chest.
“What was that voice...? A dream?”
It was too vivid to be a dream. But dreams are just dreams. If it wasn't a dream, then what was it?
“Since the morning of my birthday... I’ve had such a strange dream. What is this omen?”
Angie lifted the bed and straightened up. Through the window, the warm winter sun of early January was streaming in. The warm sunlight made the island winters cold and bitter, but often warm.
Today is the fifth day of January, her eighteenth birthday.
Mrs. Dunst spoke gruffly from the doorway. Her gesture, with her hands clasped and resting on her stomach, was as solemn as her expression.
“I guess you’ll just go back today, Angie. The young master’s body aches still aren’t better.”
“Yes? Is he still in pain?”
Angie went back the day before yesterday on Monday, worried, and he still hasn't gotten better. A dark cloud hung over Angie's face. This was the first time it had happened. Even when he had suddenly shouted at her to leave, his condition hadn't been this bad for several days.
“Is he... not feeling well?”
Today is my birthday...
Of course, he had told her that the specific gift she wanted would come later. But it still broke her heart that he was so unwell that she couldn't meet him today, on her birthday.
“It’s not something to worry about, so you can stop here for today. He’ll be fine by Friday. And take this with you, too.”
“Oh, it’s a cake. Thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ve already cut the cake with your family... There’s also a specially prepared eclair inside. And this was prepared by the master.”
“Yes? Your Highness...”
Angie took another box in her hands, surprised. Her special request was not something tangible. He had also been told that it would not be ready today.
“Go ahead. It would be rude to keep Uncle Zachary waiting for so long.”
Angie bowed to Mrs. Dunst and ran toward the carriage. Her expression was a mixture of surprise, excitement, and concern at his illness. As soon as she sat down in the carriage, she opened the box. Inside was something she had never seen before.
“This is...?”
Inside the round sphere that looked like a glass ball was a miniature house with a green roof. It was a colorful and pretty model that looked like something out of an Andersen fairy tale.
“Wow... So pretty!”
Angie let out a soft exclamation. As she lifted the ball, a spectacle of snowflakes falling down was created. There was a small world inside the glass. It was so wonderful and beautiful.
There was also a card decorated with gold-leafed flowers at the bottom of the box. Angie put the globe on her lap and unfolded the card. The elegant and neat strokes, like a painting, immediately caught her eye.
"To Angie, who loves snow and winter. Happy eighteenth birthday. This is a snow globe. If you keep it by your side, you can see snow all year long. I hope you like it. Please wait until I feel better for the real gift."
It was Kai's handwriting that she saw for the first time. He loved spending time with Angie. Angie herself could definitely say that. No matter how bad his condition was, he never refused to visit her unless absolutely necessary.
That's why Angie was even more worried. If he sends it back right away like this, it means he's really not feeling well. And yet, he even wrote a congratulatory card and prepared a pretty ball.
Angie's heart was touched and throbbed. Of course, this kindness would be nothing to the Duke's son. The daughter of a servant who came three times a week, that's all. It could have been a meaningless act of charity from the son of an aristocrat named Young Master. But even so, the impression Angie received was no less.
Lord Kai...
Angie held the snowball in her hands. And for the first time, she realized. It had only been a few days. But it had never been more than three days since she had visited the lord.
I miss you.
Her heart ached. She had never seen his face before, yet she missed him so much. The great emptiness she felt for the first time in her life made the contradictions contained in her wishes seem like nothing.
She wanted to see Kai, even though she couldn't see anything other than his silhouette beyond the curtain.
She wanted to hear it. She missed his voice, which was cold and dry at first, but then suddenly became incredibly sweet. Every so often, when he followed her reading, Angie would close her eyes to the sweetness. The soothing, mysterious tone was like a flower in her ears.
As the carriage stopped in front of the house, Angie quickly gathered her emotions. She felt like tears were about to fall, but she held them back.
In front of the small farmhouse, the shadow of her mother was visible on the window sill, amidst the bushes where the snow had not yet melted. She seemed to have returned from work at the villa and was preparing dinner early.
Angie bowed politely to the coachman, Zachary, and entered the front door. The smell of beef stew filled the house. Her mother poked her head out from the kitchen.
“Oh my, Angie! Why are you here so early? Is there something going on at the mansion...?”
“The young master is still in bed. Mrs. Dunst said it’s not serious and he’ll be fully recovered by Friday.”
“Oh my! His birthday is tomorrow, and Young Master still lying in bed – what should I do...?”
"Birthday?"
Angie was startled. She put the box of snowglobes she had been planning to show her mother on the table.
“Tomorrow... January 6th is Young Master's birthday?”
“That’s right. Didn’t I tell you? Well, the Duke and the Young Master’s birthdays were always passed quietly. Lord Edward was so disgusted by it.”
“Tomorrow is... Kai’s birthday.”
Angie slumped down on the chair, still wearing her cape and hat. It was quite a coincidence. Both of them were born into the world at the beginning of a new year.
“It doesn’t matter whether you know or not. It’s an unspoken rule to just let it go. Even if you go on Friday, just pretend not to know and don’t say anything.”
“How can I just let it go? It’s his birthday after all... Why is the Duke...”
Angie confided in her mother the questions she had been harboring for years. Like everyone on the island, her parents worked for the Duke's family, but they had little knowledge of the intimate details of their family. Still, she probably knew much more than Angie herself.
“Mom. Kai... Where on earth is it that Young Master hurts so much?”
“...You would rather ask. Now that you see the young master much more often and visit the mansion regularly.”
Laura sighed as she stirred the stew with a large spatula.
“How can we know something that even the people who were born and worked in that house don’t know? Poor, pitiful young master... The doctors and pharmacists have been developing a cure for years, so I just hope it works out.”
“Mom. Then just tell me this one thing. I won’t tell anyone.”
"What?"
“Kai, how old is he now?”
“I told you before, Angie. I really don’t know. There’s only a rumor that Madame gave birth to several children in her lifetime and they all died, leaving only him as the young master... I guess it’s because he's a year older than you. Oh, right! I have to bake some bread, but I have to hurry before Dad gets home! Angie, wash your hands and come back and help me.”
The conversation stopped there. Angie stirred the stew with a spatula while her mother put the dough into the oven. Her hands were busy, but her face was deep in thought. Her thoughts continued until the door creaked open and her father, Patrick, came in.
At this time of year, it would have been normal to hear birds chirping outside the window. But there were no birds. Her ears were filled with emptiness as if she was submerged in deep water.
She couldn't even open her eyes. She tried to swing her arms and legs hard, but she couldn't feel anything. Then, someone's call rang out dully like waves in the water.
"Hey!"
It was a young man's voice. The voice she was hearing for the first time gradually became clearer.
"Hey, lady over there- Can you hear me? Can you see me?"
Angie tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't. Her clear voice sounded muffled and disjointed as if it were muffled underwater.
"Miss! Can you hear me or not? My name is..."
“Haat!”
Angie woke up with a start. Her heart was pounding. So hard that she wondered if something was wrong with her body. As she saw the familiar room, her heartbeat gradually calmed down. Angie let go of the hand that was clutching at her chest.
“What was that voice...? A dream?”
It was too vivid to be a dream. But dreams are just dreams. If it wasn't a dream, then what was it?
“Since the morning of my birthday... I’ve had such a strange dream. What is this omen?”
Angie lifted the bed and straightened up. Through the window, the warm winter sun of early January was streaming in. The warm sunlight made the island winters cold and bitter, but often warm.
Today is the fifth day of January, her eighteenth birthday.
Mrs. Dunst spoke gruffly from the doorway. Her gesture, with her hands clasped and resting on her stomach, was as solemn as her expression.
“I guess you’ll just go back today, Angie. The young master’s body aches still aren’t better.”
“Yes? Is he still in pain?”
Angie went back the day before yesterday on Monday, worried, and he still hasn't gotten better. A dark cloud hung over Angie's face. This was the first time it had happened. Even when he had suddenly shouted at her to leave, his condition hadn't been this bad for several days.
“Is he... not feeling well?”
Today is my birthday...
Of course, he had told her that the specific gift she wanted would come later. But it still broke her heart that he was so unwell that she couldn't meet him today, on her birthday.
“It’s not something to worry about, so you can stop here for today. He’ll be fine by Friday. And take this with you, too.”
“Oh, it’s a cake. Thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ve already cut the cake with your family... There’s also a specially prepared eclair inside. And this was prepared by the master.”
“Yes? Your Highness...”
Angie took another box in her hands, surprised. Her special request was not something tangible. He had also been told that it would not be ready today.
“Go ahead. It would be rude to keep Uncle Zachary waiting for so long.”
Angie bowed to Mrs. Dunst and ran toward the carriage. Her expression was a mixture of surprise, excitement, and concern at his illness. As soon as she sat down in the carriage, she opened the box. Inside was something she had never seen before.
“This is...?”
Inside the round sphere that looked like a glass ball was a miniature house with a green roof. It was a colorful and pretty model that looked like something out of an Andersen fairy tale.
“Wow... So pretty!”
Angie let out a soft exclamation. As she lifted the ball, a spectacle of snowflakes falling down was created. There was a small world inside the glass. It was so wonderful and beautiful.
There was also a card decorated with gold-leafed flowers at the bottom of the box. Angie put the globe on her lap and unfolded the card. The elegant and neat strokes, like a painting, immediately caught her eye.
"To Angie, who loves snow and winter. Happy eighteenth birthday. This is a snow globe. If you keep it by your side, you can see snow all year long. I hope you like it. Please wait until I feel better for the real gift."
It was Kai's handwriting that she saw for the first time. He loved spending time with Angie. Angie herself could definitely say that. No matter how bad his condition was, he never refused to visit her unless absolutely necessary.
That's why Angie was even more worried. If he sends it back right away like this, it means he's really not feeling well. And yet, he even wrote a congratulatory card and prepared a pretty ball.
Angie's heart was touched and throbbed. Of course, this kindness would be nothing to the Duke's son. The daughter of a servant who came three times a week, that's all. It could have been a meaningless act of charity from the son of an aristocrat named Young Master. But even so, the impression Angie received was no less.
Lord Kai...
Angie held the snowball in her hands. And for the first time, she realized. It had only been a few days. But it had never been more than three days since she had visited the lord.
I miss you.
Her heart ached. She had never seen his face before, yet she missed him so much. The great emptiness she felt for the first time in her life made the contradictions contained in her wishes seem like nothing.
She wanted to see Kai, even though she couldn't see anything other than his silhouette beyond the curtain.
She wanted to hear it. She missed his voice, which was cold and dry at first, but then suddenly became incredibly sweet. Every so often, when he followed her reading, Angie would close her eyes to the sweetness. The soothing, mysterious tone was like a flower in her ears.
As the carriage stopped in front of the house, Angie quickly gathered her emotions. She felt like tears were about to fall, but she held them back.
In front of the small farmhouse, the shadow of her mother was visible on the window sill, amidst the bushes where the snow had not yet melted. She seemed to have returned from work at the villa and was preparing dinner early.
Angie bowed politely to the coachman, Zachary, and entered the front door. The smell of beef stew filled the house. Her mother poked her head out from the kitchen.
“Oh my, Angie! Why are you here so early? Is there something going on at the mansion...?”
“The young master is still in bed. Mrs. Dunst said it’s not serious and he’ll be fully recovered by Friday.”
“Oh my! His birthday is tomorrow, and Young Master still lying in bed – what should I do...?”
"Birthday?"
Angie was startled. She put the box of snowglobes she had been planning to show her mother on the table.
“Tomorrow... January 6th is Young Master's birthday?”
“That’s right. Didn’t I tell you? Well, the Duke and the Young Master’s birthdays were always passed quietly. Lord Edward was so disgusted by it.”
“Tomorrow is... Kai’s birthday.”
Angie slumped down on the chair, still wearing her cape and hat. It was quite a coincidence. Both of them were born into the world at the beginning of a new year.
“It doesn’t matter whether you know or not. It’s an unspoken rule to just let it go. Even if you go on Friday, just pretend not to know and don’t say anything.”
“How can I just let it go? It’s his birthday after all... Why is the Duke...”
Angie confided in her mother the questions she had been harboring for years. Like everyone on the island, her parents worked for the Duke's family, but they had little knowledge of the intimate details of their family. Still, she probably knew much more than Angie herself.
“Mom. Kai... Where on earth is it that Young Master hurts so much?”
“...You would rather ask. Now that you see the young master much more often and visit the mansion regularly.”
Laura sighed as she stirred the stew with a large spatula.
“How can we know something that even the people who were born and worked in that house don’t know? Poor, pitiful young master... The doctors and pharmacists have been developing a cure for years, so I just hope it works out.”
“Mom. Then just tell me this one thing. I won’t tell anyone.”
"What?"
“Kai, how old is he now?”
“I told you before, Angie. I really don’t know. There’s only a rumor that Madame gave birth to several children in her lifetime and they all died, leaving only him as the young master... I guess it’s because he's a year older than you. Oh, right! I have to bake some bread, but I have to hurry before Dad gets home! Angie, wash your hands and come back and help me.”
The conversation stopped there. Angie stirred the stew with a spatula while her mother put the dough into the oven. Her hands were busy, but her face was deep in thought. Her thoughts continued until the door creaked open and her father, Patrick, came in.
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