“Episode 35”
As dawn breaks, his eyes open automatically. John, bending down from the silk pillows, recalled the past. After getting up from the sweat-soaked pillow, irritation was the topic of conversation.
There was a change in the chef of the kitchen. Everything from the glorious days of the Reasburn family seems like an illusion. John, a day laborer, was like a borrowed item from the noble Hesh. The only evidence that still connects him to the past is seeing Ray, who still lives as a Reasburn heiress. John returned to Hesh.
At that time, Jack, the stable boy, came to request food for the horses. His voice, knocking on the door every morning like a polite greeting, marked the beginning of the day. Realizing that rebelling was futile, John dipped his hands in food for the sake of eating.
Now, for a moment, that life was Ray’s. He was able to briefly enjoy the feeling.
레이, who had actually noticed, was astonished and thought Clothan would forgive him. However, Clothan was indifferent as if he had forgotten Ray’s existence altogether, and Ray, who was confined to the mansion, found it eerie. With his confidence gone, before he knew it, John was merely preserving a body whose sole purpose was to consume the food placed before him day by day.
There was one more thing that puzzled him, Ray’s treatment of him. Even though he had skipped out without repaying the money, Ray still treated him like a princess within those walls, breathing as if nothing had changed. He didn’t wish for Ray to endure such hardships like himself, but he wondered why Ray continued to shelter him without any conditions. Was it because they were lovers? But in this place where monsters lurked, could Ray’s simple reason really protect him?
Another thought arose. In the place where he spent all day chopping wood, there was a shack that was called a cabin. But one day, the gardener who lived there didn’t come out. Even at meal times, he had to bring him food at Philip’s instruction. It was annoying and humiliating, so on days when two portions of food were brought up, John always made sure to eat one.
“Hey.”
He hadn’t forgotten the humiliation of having his face kneaded like dough not long ago. But the sight of him trembling like a mouse in the crumbling shack was truly grotesque. He wasn’t interested in the backstory, but it was surely related to Clothan. Wasn’t it obvious? The only person capable of creating such a mess here was him.
“Eat.”
Already, a soft and fluffy bread, meant for the gardener, was in his stomach. Considering the meager cost of running such an errand, this was a cheap meal. In the past, it would have been unimaginable to even think about it.
John, picking out bits of food stuck in his teeth, initiated conversation as a pastime.
“So, what did you do wrong to end up here?”
Sitting hunched in the corner, he was pathetic like a prisoner fixated only on the chopping block. Since he didn’t expect an answer anyway, John merely stole the gardener’s meal without laying a finger on it.
“Obvious. Probably killed a few flowers. Nothing to come here for otherwise. Maybe even stole something. I know from experience as someone from the top. How embarrassing it is and…”
“No. I stole.”
“What?”
“No. I stole.”
The gardener’s lifted gaze was menacing. Remembering the memories of being beaten by him in the past, John subtly changed the subject.
“Yeah. I know. When you think about it, this place is a bit extreme. Making someone like this just for borrowing money. And why did our gardener end up here? Did he dare to defy the master?”
“Me.”
“Speak. You don’t seem to have anything to do.”
“There’s a favor. I need to ask.”
“A favor?”
John, who was sucking jam off his fingers, quickly furrowed his brow. “Flowers. Alive. Need to check. Just once.”
“What? Flowers?”
Despite the laughter, the gardener sent him a pleading look. It wasn’t exactly appealing, but surprisingly not bad either. It wasn’t a difficult request, and he thought it wouldn’t hurt to help out a bit and clear some debt while he was at it.
“This is owed to me.”
With a cheerful hum, John walked towards the flower garden. While Ray had often wanted to visit before, it was a strange place due to Philip’s vigilant watch. Now, with the gardener’s request and Philip unable to hide from the master, the situation seemed to be turning out alright.
Luck didn’t stop there. Amidst enjoying the gardener’s share of the meal, he spotted a noble blonde head in the flower garden. The only one with such shining blonde hair in this mansion was his younger sister.
Today was the day. If conversation was difficult, it could be written down and conveyed. Ray couldn’t possibly take Clothan’s side over a hapless orphan. John raised his hand in greeting.
“Ray.”
However, someone else called Ray before him. Upon seeing the contrasting black hair, John hid behind a brick wall. It was a golden opportunity. He couldn’t just let it go so easily. No, understanding the situation and seizing the chance, John leaned in to listen closely.
The only advantage of being a monster was the superior vision and hearing compared to before. Of course, he never expressed gratitude for it.
“Clothan was good at drawing.”
John felt his sister’s voice was unfamiliar. Her once weak and feeble voice now sounded strong and lively. Ray was holding Clothan close, affectionately teasing him. They seemed like any ordinary couple. John was blissfully unaware of what had happened to him.
“I love you.”
John felt utterly dumbfounded. It felt like returning home to find only the skeleton of a burnt house. It was as if his sister, sweet as honey, had fallen into the hands of an enemy.
Ray sat down, whispering softly. The hope of the Rezben family found solace on the monster’s thigh.
“Did you come to hear this?”
“Huh?”
“No matter how angry you get in the future, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Just pulling away and disappearing. Saying not to touch as you please.”
Clothan, embracing his sister’s face tightly to shield it, lightly tapped her cheek with his hand.
“You don’t know me.”
“I don’t. You’d only know if Clothan told you.”
“When someone says ‘don’t touch,’ it means they want you to come closer. When they make it hard to talk, the more they do it, the more they want your attention.”
“Will you give me a book about Clothan? Otherwise, I won’t know.”
It was truly absurd. Embracing the leader of the monsters and engaging in small talk about books and such was not the time. Raised as if he were perfect, was he ultimately just a plaything for these monsters?
The frustration was like a boiling pot of soy sauce. John wanted to rush over and punch Clothan in the face and rescue his sister, but he held back given the circumstances.
“Aren’t you frustrated that I don’t tell you everything?”
“I’m not frustrated. I can wait. But sometimes… everything feels too hard. Then I hate Clothan. I just want to love. But then I hate myself for hating Clothan…”
As the lovers’ conversation ended, a muffled sound was heard. John, who had suspected something, cautiously turned his head and found his suspicions confirmed. Damn Clothan was devouring his sister’s trembling lips. What’s funny was that Ray was eagerly responding, wrapping her arms around him. They were perfect lovers without a doubt. What seemed like a brief emotional play turned out to be deep feelings on both sides.
This called for gambling. If Clothan’s feelings for Ray were serious, he might graciously forgive John. But if Ray’s feelings for Clothan were deeper, then poor John’s misfortune could be a different story.
“Wait.”
Suddenly, the two disappeared as if they were an illusion. Despite blatantly looking around and craning his neck like a turtle, there was not even the faintest murmur of their voices. It seems he had stirred up some strange concoction again.
This gamble is a gamble for life. One must proceed with utmost caution. There was a need to test Ray’s seemingly genuine feelings more than expected. It was wise to save time instead of chopping firewood. There was not no gain at all. A clue had been found.
***
In Mrs. Mary’s opinion, those lovers had a talent for making mountains out of molehills. It was a distinctly different dessert time from before, as if they had ever been at odds. Instead of absentmindedly poking at cream with a fork, they had been sharing strawberries placed as decorations for an hour.
Mrs. Mary hadn’t been counting the time. From the moment they served and started to clear the table, the two had been the same. And so, it was time to calculate.
“What’s the matter? Huh? Tell me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Again. Is it because you’re embarrassed?”
Pretending to wipe the table, Mrs. Mary discreetly listened in. The topic was about the meaning of flowers. Ray had asked about the yellow roses meticulously described in every letter, and a small argument had ensued with the host, who was only busy kissing.
Mrs. Mary thought it would be best to quickly finish the cake.
Growing tired of waiting, Mrs. Mary took the remaining slice of cake and headed towards the firewood pile. While she had provided the cause, it was also the gardener’s share of the trouble. Since it was practically a party, it also served as a congratulatory gesture. Anyway, whether it was her who broke the rules or Philip, they both had escaped death.
“Oh, you’re here.”
Philip stood beside the gardener, draped in a blanket and stirring hot water. His demeanor had changed. Despite his dislike for those who didn’t follow orders, he had even erected a notice asking for letters.
“The master said you’re to start working again from tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“In exchange, you’re forbidden from talking to the young lady from now on. Understood?”
“Well, of course.”
The gardener nodded weakly. Mrs. Mary offered him the cake as comfort.
“I understand your loneliness, but you shouldn’t rely on her for that. You’d better ask me to make you something like this instead. I’ll bake hundreds for you if you ask.”
With no one to talk to and no reason to gather in the cheerful cabin after hearing the good news, Philip seemed to agree as he bid farewell and returned to the annex to rest. After instructing to leave the empty cake plate at the door, Mrs. Mary suddenly remembered the topic the lovers had been whispering about at the table.
“Hey, I have a question.”
She casually asked the gardener, who raised his head as if indifferent.
“The meaning of yellow roses.”
When the topic of flowers came up, the gardener suddenly came alive and replied, “Jealousy.”
Ah, it was a clever move. It was quite masterful to convey it in a roundabout way to intuitive Ray. The two seemed to be so different in their thoughts, which made Mrs. Mary wonder if that’s what drew them to each other. Shaking her head in amusement, Mrs. Mary walked away from the cabin with light footsteps.
One thing was done. Hoping for peaceful sleep like an undisturbed nap. Who knows how far it will go, but it’s a start.
