115. God's Gift
"Who?"
“Isn’t that right? He’s the eldest son of a Count who owns a large ranch in Grossen.”
"Aha!"
The other person nodded as if he finally understood, and the man continued talking excitedly.
“My cousin heard the story from when he went fox hunting over there, that Nathan Malvin was sick.”
"Sick?"
“Yeah, I heard that the house was turned upside down because of that. The trip to the New World was also cancelled.”
“No, what the hell is wrong with him?”
“They said he was just a little weaker and kept quiet, but the servants said...”
For a moment, the man lowered his voice strangely, and Grojean fell into a strange sense of unease.
As expected.
“It’s lovesickness.”
'Love sickness' was one of the hot potatoes that excited the social circle.
Oh my god.
Exclamations of curiosity and excitement came from all sides.
Grojean was also dizzy from the unexpected news. At the same time, he was deeply regretful.
He should have somehow gotten the young master out earlier...
Grojean carefully watched his master's expression. As expected, he was cooling down. He was worried that others might notice his master's gaze.
“Who on earth are you dealing with?”
The room became as quiet as a mouse.
Grojean desperately hoped that the rumors that had once circulated around Cavendish and Ruen would not spread to Nowak.
But God turned a blind eye to his earnest prayers.
“...That’s right...”
The man's eyes, which had been rolling around, became fixed in front of Hardius.
The man was smiling like a little child waiting for a toy hidden on a chair.
“Young Master Meyer may already know...”
Everyone’s eyes turned to him at once, and Hardius raised his glass to his lips and answered, “Well.” A sinister smile appeared on the man’s face.
“That’s the woman you’re talking about. Prince Meyer’s former fiancée. That commoner woman.”
Another gasp erupted from the bewildered crowd.
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
“They said she was so beautiful...”
Since the two had already broken off their engagement, a few men who felt no need to be careful with their words began to openly spout baseless stories about 'that woman' and 'Nathan Malvin'.
From the one-sided love of Nathan Malvin to the novel-like story of the two secretly trying to escape to the New World.
The same annoying stories that tormented the master were repeated over and over again.
However, the reason why Hardius was able to maintain a relaxed expression was probably because of the mask that had accumulated over many years. Hardius smiled lightly as if he had heard a trivial story and focused on playing cards.
Thanks to his lukewarm reaction, the once hot pot quickly cooled down.
“Oh, have you heard the news? Isabel Quincy has been having an affair with the Duke of Hailston!”
Fortunately, someone else came forward with a more provocative story.
People's attention was quickly diverted to a sticky love story.
After an appropriate amount of time had passed, neither too fast nor too slow, Hardius put down the card he was holding and stood up.
“I guess my luck ends here today.”
“Are you going already?”
The person next to him snickered at the man who had a regretful expression on his face.
“Young Meyer is starting to act like a married man. Isn’t it Lady Leichnen, not some other woman? She’s about to get engaged, so she needs to be taken care of. Isn’t that right?”
Hardius answered with a light laugh. Then he winked at Grojean.
“I will prepare the carriage.”
After a while, the two came out of the building.
Hardius stared up at the crescent moon floating in the gray sky. A carriage with its lamps on stopped early in front of them.
As soon as he got into the carriage, Hardius opened the window and loosened his tie.
“Your Excellency, would you like to call the lumber merchant back? Since Young Master Malvin didn’t leave after all, I’d like to send him back to Grossen…”
"No."
Hardius answered and turned his eyes back to the window. When he turned the corner and entered the street, he opened his mouth.
“Grojean,”
“Please speak.”
“How are you and your spouse?”
"...yes?"
“Do you love each other?”
Grojean doubted his ears.
“That’s it...”
The conversation suddenly stopped like hard dough as he blinked without being able to continue speaking.
In the heavy silence that fell, Grojean chewed on the word 'love', a word he thought he would never hear from the young Meyer's lips.
He loved his wife. He thought she loved him, too. But he never once said it out loud. It was almost like something they knew without saying it. But that man would be different.
While Grojean was melting with an unknown emotion, Hardius suddenly spoke again.
“Lovesickness... It’s a lot of different things.”
His muttering tone was full of mockery. But his actions were completely different. He lifted his arms, which had been lying around, and covered his eyes and forehead as if he was in pain.
“When the hell are they going to bring in the belly?”
"Who?"
“Isn’t that right? He’s the eldest son of a Count who owns a large ranch in Grossen.”
"Aha!"
The other person nodded as if he finally understood, and the man continued talking excitedly.
“My cousin heard the story from when he went fox hunting over there, that Nathan Malvin was sick.”
"Sick?"
“Yeah, I heard that the house was turned upside down because of that. The trip to the New World was also cancelled.”
“No, what the hell is wrong with him?”
“They said he was just a little weaker and kept quiet, but the servants said...”
For a moment, the man lowered his voice strangely, and Grojean fell into a strange sense of unease.
As expected.
“It’s lovesickness.”
'Love sickness' was one of the hot potatoes that excited the social circle.
Oh my god.
Exclamations of curiosity and excitement came from all sides.
Grojean was also dizzy from the unexpected news. At the same time, he was deeply regretful.
He should have somehow gotten the young master out earlier...
Grojean carefully watched his master's expression. As expected, he was cooling down. He was worried that others might notice his master's gaze.
“Who on earth are you dealing with?”
The room became as quiet as a mouse.
Grojean desperately hoped that the rumors that had once circulated around Cavendish and Ruen would not spread to Nowak.
But God turned a blind eye to his earnest prayers.
“...That’s right...”
The man's eyes, which had been rolling around, became fixed in front of Hardius.
The man was smiling like a little child waiting for a toy hidden on a chair.
“Young Master Meyer may already know...”
Everyone’s eyes turned to him at once, and Hardius raised his glass to his lips and answered, “Well.” A sinister smile appeared on the man’s face.
“That’s the woman you’re talking about. Prince Meyer’s former fiancée. That commoner woman.”
Another gasp erupted from the bewildered crowd.
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
“They said she was so beautiful...”
Since the two had already broken off their engagement, a few men who felt no need to be careful with their words began to openly spout baseless stories about 'that woman' and 'Nathan Malvin'.
From the one-sided love of Nathan Malvin to the novel-like story of the two secretly trying to escape to the New World.
The same annoying stories that tormented the master were repeated over and over again.
However, the reason why Hardius was able to maintain a relaxed expression was probably because of the mask that had accumulated over many years. Hardius smiled lightly as if he had heard a trivial story and focused on playing cards.
Thanks to his lukewarm reaction, the once hot pot quickly cooled down.
“Oh, have you heard the news? Isabel Quincy has been having an affair with the Duke of Hailston!”
Fortunately, someone else came forward with a more provocative story.
People's attention was quickly diverted to a sticky love story.
After an appropriate amount of time had passed, neither too fast nor too slow, Hardius put down the card he was holding and stood up.
“I guess my luck ends here today.”
“Are you going already?”
The person next to him snickered at the man who had a regretful expression on his face.
“Young Meyer is starting to act like a married man. Isn’t it Lady Leichnen, not some other woman? She’s about to get engaged, so she needs to be taken care of. Isn’t that right?”
Hardius answered with a light laugh. Then he winked at Grojean.
“I will prepare the carriage.”
After a while, the two came out of the building.
Hardius stared up at the crescent moon floating in the gray sky. A carriage with its lamps on stopped early in front of them.
As soon as he got into the carriage, Hardius opened the window and loosened his tie.
“Your Excellency, would you like to call the lumber merchant back? Since Young Master Malvin didn’t leave after all, I’d like to send him back to Grossen…”
"No."
Hardius answered and turned his eyes back to the window. When he turned the corner and entered the street, he opened his mouth.
“Grojean,”
“Please speak.”
“How are you and your spouse?”
"...yes?"
“Do you love each other?”
Grojean doubted his ears.
“That’s it...”
The conversation suddenly stopped like hard dough as he blinked without being able to continue speaking.
In the heavy silence that fell, Grojean chewed on the word 'love', a word he thought he would never hear from the young Meyer's lips.
He loved his wife. He thought she loved him, too. But he never once said it out loud. It was almost like something they knew without saying it. But that man would be different.
While Grojean was melting with an unknown emotion, Hardius suddenly spoke again.
“Lovesickness... It’s a lot of different things.”
His muttering tone was full of mockery. But his actions were completely different. He lifted his arms, which had been lying around, and covered his eyes and forehead as if he was in pain.
“When the hell are they going to bring in the belly?”
“Master...”
“Emilia is pregnant with my child.”
“...!”
“That’s my child.”
Thanks to that 'child', all the chaos and conflict ended, and peace finally came. But it seemed that that wasn't enough for the young master.
Aren't you the guy who still puts Pip in the sitter's chair to look after that one cat?
As long as there are men who giggle while talking about 'that woman', the young master's abnormal suffering will probably continue for the rest of his life.
“I can handle it. I can handle it. It really sucks, though.”
Grojean slowly came to a realization as he listened to the incoherent words.
The young master is drunk. He is so drunk that he doesn't even know what he is saying.
Only a few minutes later, Grojean discovered to his astonishment that his master had fallen asleep.
It was a first for him, too. Hardy Meyer never made a slip of the tongue, no matter how drunk he was, and he never fell asleep in a carriage.
"Oh my god..."
Grojean muttered absentmindedly and stared at his master's sleeping face for a long time.
His normally upright body was leaning against the carriage wall, his eyes and mouth tightly shut and leaning downward.
He never looked like he was sleeping drunk, but he must be completely asleep because he doesn't open his eyes even though he's staring at him like this.
As Grojean watched the man sleeping as if he were dead, his heart strangely began to melt like burning wax.
Grojean, unable to control his strange feelings, ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his neck. After sighing loudly several times, he decided to do something presumptuous for the first time in his life.
“Roan.”
He pulled the bell and called the coachman.
“Turn the carriage around. To the Zelkova forest.”
***
Emilia was sewing with her stepmother when Grojean showed up carrying his drunken master on his back.
At the sound of a dog barking, Kalia opened the curtains and looked out the window.
The first thing she noticed was the coachman leading the way, carrying a lamp. Beppy ran out to greet him, and behind him was Grojean carrying someone on his back.
The moment she confirmed the identity of the person who had been carried, Kalia couldn't help but gasp in surprise. Emilia, who had belatedly approached the window, was also completely frozen.
As soon as Kalia opened the door, Grojean spoke without saying hello.
“...His Excellency has drunk a lot.”
Kalia, who couldn’t close her mouth, said, “Ah... come in.” She turned her body to the side in a hurry.
“Is there a place where I can lay my young master down?”
He asked Emilia, strangely enough, not Kalia. Finding her daughter frozen in place, blinking, Kalia stepped forward again.
“First... this way.”
A moment later, the large, long man's body was laid on its side, filling Emilia's small bed.
“Then, Miss Bern, please take good care of our young master. I beg you.”
Grojean bowed his head in greeting and turned to the coachman without giving the mother and daughter a chance to respond.
“Roan, let’s go.”
"Yes."
“Now, just a moment, let me have some tea...”
There was no time for Kalia to stop them. The two disappeared right before her eyes, as if something was so urgent.
Kalia, who had been blankly staring at the closed door, turned to look at her daughter, dumbfounded.
That's when things really started to surprise Kalia.
Emilia had already run to her room and was untying the young master's tie.
The look in her daughter's eyes as she looked down at the tired man was enough to take Kalia's breath away. It felt so strange.
“How much alcohol did you drink...”
Emilia grumbled, folded his tie neatly and placed it on the table, then unbuttoned a few of his shirt buttons.
A small hand gently brushed away the jet-black hair that had fallen over his forehead, then smoothed out the wrinkles on the pillow. By the time she took off his shoes and covered him with the blanket, Emilia seemed to have forgotten that her mother was outside the open door.
Kalia turned and leaned against the wall for a moment. Her heart was pounding like someone caught stealing.
Emilia sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at him, unaware of the mood her stepmother was in.
She smiled without realizing it as she scanned his thick eyebrows beneath his tall forehead, his tightly closed eyelids, and his chiseled nose.
Even though he was drunk, his breath was clean, and the sound of his breathing was pleasant to hear.
Unable to resist her curiosity, her fingertips ran down the man's nose, which was as cool as a sculpture. His brow furrowed slightly, perhaps because it tickled him.
"...cute."
She whispered softly and carefully climbed onto the bed and lay down next to him.
She folded her elbows inward, rested her head on them, and began to seriously observe the sleeping man.
A small dot on the earlobe, the corners of the eyes that curve downward when sleeping, the deep curve under the lips...
It was like going on a treasure hunt.
Emilia smiled, thinking that she wouldn't get bored even if she watched it all day. Her heart grew warm and sweet blood like honey, filled her whole body.
As she watched the two people lying in the cramped bed, a shocking realization came over Kalia's chest.
Why did I worry so much about useless things?
There was no need to ask...
How else can you explain the feelings of a woman who looks at a sleeping man with such eyes?
Kalia remembered what Charlotte had said was 'God's gift'.
Yes, the master was a 'gift' to Emilia.
It was so big and heavy that they didn't even dare to think about receiving it.
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