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Chapter 05
“I will repay this kindness. It isn’t a small amount of money, so it should be enough compensation.”
When the man followed her outside, Psyche glanced at the closed door behind them before hurriedly speaking.
She pulled out the emergency savings she had gathered little by little over a very long time.
It was money she had carefully hidden away for the day she could no longer endure everything around her.
“Please accept it. It’s a token of my gratitude.”
The man said nothing even as he looked at the envelope Psyche offered. He only gazed at her with endlessly deep eyes.
Eyes as clear and transparent as ice. Pitch-black hair contrasting against skin as white as a snowy field.
Even his straight, elegant nose.
The man’s features were mostly sharp, yet that only made his atmosphere appear more mysterious and cold.
As Psyche looked at him, she remembered traveling to Biscaya long ago with her father.
There, she had once seen a portrait of an extraordinarily beautiful woman. It had been breathtakingly beautiful, almost awe-inspiring.
Only later did Psyche learn it was a portrait of the Empress, who had once been called the Rose of the Sigar Empire.
It had been the very first embodiment of “beauty” Psyche encountered after being born.
The man was beautiful in exactly the same way as that portrait.
“…Thank you for helping me.”
Lost in thought, Psyche belatedly realized the man was looking back at her as well.
After a brief pause, a restrained voice slipped through slightly parted lips.
As Psyche’s voice sank into the silence, the man slowly closed and opened his eyes.
The blue eyes that had immersed her in strange thoughts disappeared for a moment. Only then did she brush away the pointless ideas drifting through her mind.
Though she had unintentionally received his help, these thoughts held no meaning.
Their strange connection would end today.
“I plan to leave just before Saint Peter’s Day begins. That will be one month and fifteen days from now.”
“……”
“Until then, I hope Lady Clement changes her mind.”
Blue eyes looked directly at Psyche.
Psyche lightly lowered her head in greeting while looking back at the Grand Duke’s messenger.
When she straightened up again, the man had already withdrawn his gaze.
After exchanging farewells with Baroness Clement once more, he left Psyche’s side.
‘In the end, he didn’t accept it.’
As he turned away, his coat fluttered, briefly revealing a glasses chain tucked into an inner pocket.
‘Glasses?’
At that moment, rumors related to the Grand Duke surfaced in her mind.
‘The item said to see through people’s true intentions.’
Psyche tightened her grip around the envelope still in her hand.
‘…No way. He’s only a messenger delivering the Grand Duke’s wishes. What am I even thinking?’
She stared blankly at the place the man had left.
In the end, he never accepted the envelope she offered.
Suddenly, she felt as if a bitter winter wind resembling him was sweeping past her.
Tap. Tap.
Heavy raindrops struck the window.
The unexpected downpour poured so violently it seemed capable of drowning out every sound in the world.
After returning to her room following the earlier commotion, Psyche let out a deep sigh strong enough to shake her chest and pressed a hand against her brow.
“This illness will be difficult to cure. Even if there is a treatment, the cost will be substantial. Moreover, if treatment doesn’t begin soon, there may never be a solution.”
The moment Psyche heard those words from the doctor, it felt as though her heart had dropped.
What Baroness Clement told her afterward was even crueler.
“…Psyche, it’s possible we’ll need more than the 500 francs I mentioned before.”
Five hundred francs was by no means a small amount.
If used sparingly, it was enough to survive through at least three seasons.
Anything beyond that would be impossible even for Psyche to bear.
Perhaps they would have to sell the mansion carrying the entire legacy of the Clement family and move into a much smaller house.
But that was something Psyche could never allow.
She understood better than anyone that crises had to be handled flexibly depending on circumstances, and she was someone who relied on reason more than emotion.
Yet one thing alone was unforgivable to her—
Leaving the Clement estate.
Most of their territory had already long since passed into others’ hands.
If even this mansion, which had witnessed the family’s history, disappeared, her dream of restoring the House of Clement would scatter like a mirage.
“…Ha.”
Psyche let out a bitter laugh mixed with a sigh.
The more she thought, the more her head throbbed.
She could not find any way to escape this hardship.
At some point, the rain striking the windows had become even fiercer.
She quickly stood and stepped outside.
She was in no position to admire the rain.
Not long after, standing beneath the violently pouring rain, Psyche could only let out a foolish sound of disbelief.
“Bring buckets! Anything that can hold rainwater!”
A shout echoed through the estate.
Among them was Baron Clement’s voice.
When the heavy raindrops stung her cheeks, her senses snapped awake.
Then her sick father’s voice struck her mind like thunder.
“Psyche! Hurry inside the mansion! Why are you outside in this rain?!”
Baron Clement spotted Psyche standing blankly and shouted loudly.
Psyche merely parted her lips without moving.
Baron Clement coughed repeatedly, thick with phlegm.
His appearance, soaked completely by rainwater, looked pitiful.
“Why are you out here, Father? Your health is poor.”
Countless words swirled in her mouth, but what came out was only sorrowful concern.
“Protecting the estate is the head of the family’s duty, Psyche. Go inside quickly. You’ll catch a fever.”
Psyche had always hated rainy days.
Because whenever it rained, her tragic circumstances were inevitably forced back into her mind.
She alternated her gaze between the mansion sinking beneath the rain and Baron Clement’s pale face.
If the rain continued all night, the mansion, built on relatively low ground, might flood.
They couldn’t even afford to hire laborers, meaning water left unattended would seep into the wood over time.
That was why her father was standing in this rain too.
If there had been a roof sturdy enough to block the storm, perhaps her feelings toward rain would have been different.
“I’ll help, Father.”
But reality wasn’t like that.
Simply surviving each day meant poverty crashed down upon them like this torrential rain.
“The raindrops are cold. Let’s finish quickly and take shelter together.”
Psyche silently picked up a bucket.
As her father’s dry coughing continued, Psyche thought that one day she too might close her eyes forever, strangled by this poverty.
She had to endure.
Had to survive another day in this exhausting world.
Why was living so difficult?
A stray droplet trickled down Psyche’s cheek, tracing along her jaw.
“Mother, please tell me how much Father’s treatment will cost. I’ll find a way to gather it.”
After the commotion passed, Psyche spread embroidered handkerchiefs she had sewn herself across the table.
Every one of them was proof of her desperate struggle to support the family.
Baroness Clement squeezed her eyes shut after looking back and forth between her daughter’s roughened hands and the pile of handkerchiefs.
“No, Psyche. There’s no need. In fact, as soon as the rain stopped, we received a letter from Doctor Pascal. He said your father’s illness is a rare case, and in exchange for studying the treatment process, he won’t charge any money. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“……”
In truth, Psyche had intended to suggest selling the estate today.
Even then, it likely wouldn’t be enough to cover her father’s treatment.
Because his illness wasn’t temporary.
It was incurable.
Psyche knew it was like pouring water into a bottomless barrel, but she thought there was no other option.
“Still, your father collapsed again after everything earlier…”
Poverty was always like that.
There were countless things one had to give up.
Things to eat.
Things to own.
Things to do.
In the end, even desperate dreams had to be abandoned.
“But with the doctor’s help, I feel much more relieved.”
“…Yes, that’s good news.”
Yet now her mother was telling her she didn’t have to give anything up.
Someone had shown them kindness, so things would be okay.
Would they really?
Psyche wasn’t sure.
Her father, believing he had fulfilled his duties once the commotion ended, had returned to bed.
“They said they’d draft a contract. Since your father is bedridden, they said treatment could begin immediately if we send the family seal…”
“Mother. Did you just say the family seal?”
The moment those words reached her ears, nausea rose inside Psyche.
Part of her sensed something ominous, even while insisting it couldn’t be true.
“Did you read the contract?”
“No. I don’t understand those things. They said they’d handle it, so I agreed.”
“…Mother.”
Psyche called to Baroness Clement with a pale face.
Or rather, it sounded more like muttering to herself.
“Oh my, Psyche. Your face…”
“You haven’t sent the seal yet, right? Did you at least receive the contract?”
“The head maid should have stored it somewhere… Though we already sent the seal through a messenger. But your complexion is terrible. Psyche, are you alright?”
The family seal should never be allowed outside the family.
And they hadn’t even checked what was written in the contract.
Psyche’s mouth went dry.
Baroness Clement, put kindly, was a noblewoman who had never lost her aristocratic pride.
Put differently, she was still like a sheltered young lady who had never left the greenhouse.
“Head maid, bring the contract immediately.”
When Psyche ordered in a carefully calm voice, the head maid bowed and left the room.
Psyche’s eyes darkened as she followed the maid’s movements.
She must have seen everything by her mother’s side.
Perhaps she had even encouraged it.
Yet she hadn’t stopped her.
That meant things were unfolding exactly as the maid intended.
An urge rose in Psyche to throw the maid out immediately.
But the head maid was the only person her mother relied on.
Her anger stopped at biting the tender flesh inside her mouth.
Soon, the maid returned.
And the paper respectfully placed before Psyche tightened around her breathing once again.
[If treatment fails to show results within the designated period, all support will be withdrawn. Furthermore, Baron Clement must compensate the sponsor, Count Erysichthon, with ten times the amount spent on treatment costs.]
