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Chapter 23
“Is that so?”
“His name is Louis Pasteur. The problem is, he’s French.”
“Then we’ll need to bring him here before the war breaks out. Understood.”
No, the bigger problem was that in 1868 he would suffer a cerebral hemorrhage.
He would continue his research, of course, but he wouldn’t have the strength to come all the way to this distant Bavarian estate.
‘If we change Dr. Pasteur’s environment, maybe we can prevent him from becoming paralyzed…’
Victor waited silently until Yvel finished her thoughts. He was, admittedly, tired from lack of sleep, but strangely, looking at her face didn’t make him feel that exhausted.
He wanted to hold on to this moment a little longer.
A moment where, with no one else around, he could just watch her.
Lost in thought, Yvel didn’t care who was nearby, and he liked that.
Call it self-consciousness if you will. Victor was used to being treated a certain way wherever he went. People overanalyzed him, overthought him, and overobserved him.
The only ones who didn’t were those of similar social standing.
Even then, very few gazes were purely friendly.
‘Maybe just Lucas.’
Everyone else either watched him with suspicion or envy—there was no in-between.
He was tired just the same.
Yet Yvel was different.
The one who made him wait before he died had been Yvel, and after he came back to life, it was still Yvel.
“I’ll need quite a few rosemary pots. I haven’t started managing the estate yet, but could you authorize that?”
Her tone had returned to its previous rigid, military-like cadence. She must have been deep in thought.
Victor didn’t know what she was thinking, but since he welcomed the change in the stuffy mansion, he had no reason to refuse.
“Do as you wish.”
“Thank you.”
Should she try using hemlock…? But it’s too toxic. If well refined… no, still, it wouldn’t be safe for the child…
Muttering to herself, Yvel suddenly stopped walking.
She realized she had left Victor behind.
“Ah, Victor.”
“I’m fine. You go ahead.”
“Ah… um, well then…”
Hesitating slightly, Yvel turned briskly and walked on. Victor let out a soft chuckle.
Being left behind by a lady—this was a first in his life.
By the time Yvel had grown accustomed to the Bavarian estate, she finally visited the Eberstein household.
It was a summer day with gentle rain soaking the ground. As she stepped down from the carriage, she noticed two people standing at the entrance and widened her eyes slightly.
“Welcome, welcome, my dear. With weather like this… perhaps we should have asked you to come tomorrow. I hope it wasn’t too difficult for you.”
Colonel Konrad von Eberstein’s wife.
Madame Eberstein had a very gentle appearance.
Her eyes drooped slightly at the corners, her plump figure immediately evoked a sense of warmth.
Yvel offered a soft smile toward the girl-like face, who held her hands tightly, unsure what to do.
“It was no trouble at all. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Oh, no, no. Thank you for becoming my daughter. I didn’t know whether the climate would make you feel hot and humid, or cold from the rain. So, I’ve prepared two reception rooms with different temperatures.”
She had heard about this, but didn’t expect such detailed care.
‘They said she lost her daughter in an accident and suffered depression and neurasthenia…’
After wiping her damp eyes repeatedly, Yvel’s handkerchief became unusable. Seeing this, Yvel quietly offered her own.
She couldn’t act as affectionate as a real daughter, but this much she could do.
“Sorry… I shouldn’t be like this… I’m just too happy.”
“That’s fine.”
The lady, who had been sniffling, soon brightened her voice and began asking questions.
“Do you like ginger cookies? Butter cookies? You’re grown, so maybe sweets aren’t your preference. What about pies? I make a good meat pie. We’ll have some later—it’s in the oven now.”
“I’ll have some. I don’t remember ever eating cookies, but I like them.”
“Good heavens! Marie! Go fetch the cookies!”
Three emotions showed on Madame Eberstein’s face: joy, bittersweetness, and a desire not to be disliked.
Yvel could see how nervous she was with every word, waiting anxiously for her.
‘Is this what it feels like to have a mother who loves you?’
She would never know in her lifetime. Her own mother had always been drunk, rambling, and falling down as part of daily life.
‘Well, not something I need to see anymore.’
If possible, she never wanted to meet her again.
Chewing on a bear-shaped ginger cookie, Yvel exchanged more stories—favorite colors, favorite flowers, and such.
Colonel Konrad, unable to join the ladies’ conversation, had already gone out to play cricket with Victor.
Madame Eberstein, casting a glance at her husband, held Yvel’s hand tightly with a gentle smile.
“My dear, if you ever have a quarrel with your husband, come here immediately. Understood?”
“I will.”
“Take care of yourself—don’t be cold or hot. If your heart feels blocked and you have nowhere to confide, come to Eberstein. I can ensure even one daughter lives happily, by any means.”
Her once-girl-like face froze for a moment. It was a frostiness that warned: even if it were Victor, she would not forgive anyone who made Yvel unhappy.
‘Well, someone truly meek wouldn’t have conquered this social circle.’
The conversation then turned to the wedding dress and venue.
“The wedding will be at the Bavarian estate. May I help with the decorations?”
“Please do. It would be impossible for me to organize such a large event alone.”
Madame Eberstein took out paper and a fountain pen, laughing as she began sketching. Her drawings were good, so Yvel leisurely watched and nodded affirmatively at each suggestion.
It was a fake wedding, after all, and it had to be executed to fit the status of the Bavarian estate. Having someone knowledgeable in charge was best.
If Madame Eberstein led instead of Genevieve, Victor’s goal of ‘maintaining household discipline’ would have no issues.
Whatever needed doing, Yvel would carry it out.
“I have a question. Has anyone in the Eberstein family ever had a coughing illness?”
“No, nothing like that has happened in the Ebersteins.”
“Then could I know what building materials were used?”
The question seemed to surprise Madame Eberstein slightly.
“Hmm, granite, I think. I’m not sure, I’ll call my husband. Marie! Go fetch the master.”
“Yes, madam.”
Even a short game of cricket lasts four to six hours, but Colonel Konrad immediately stopped the game when his wife called.
“Oh dear, look at them all wet. Playing cricket in the rain… why are men like that?”
The two men, soaked to the skin, said they would wash and disappeared. An hour later, Yvel finally learned the building materials of the Eberstein estate.
“The Eberstein estate was built using a mixture of limestone, sandstone, and granite. Most of the wood was oak.”
“Hmm.”
Victor, seeing her ponder, spoke softly.
“The same applies to the Bavarian estate. They were built around the same time. However…”
“However…?”
“One difference is that, later on, the Bavarian estate added fireproof materials imported from the Rom Empire to the interior walls of the second floor. Not everywhere, just in the bedrooms of family members and areas where fire would be dangerous.”
This was news to her. Imported fireproof materials?
