Episode 40
Hans, who had been wiping the sweat off his upper lip because of the heat, opened his eyes wide and laughed awkwardly.
“Oh, you don’t know? I just came to pick some herbs for ma’am’s dinner.”
“Oh, I see.”
Monica glanced at Hans’s hands. They were empty. He seemed aware of her gaze and quickly added an excuse.
“But the herbs haven’t grown enough yet. That’s why I was thinking of heading back.”
Judging by his awkward demeanor, it seemed he had no idea what to say to her.
Suddenly, I remembered what Maria had said. I guess I shouldn’t have asked her. But there was something else I had to know.
“By the way, Mr. Hans, do you have any mint in your garden plot?”
“Peppermint?”
Behind the laundry room, out of sight of the higher-ups, there was a vegetable garden. It was quite large, and all sorts of plants grew there. Whether or not the Mollet family knew about it, the maids made good use of the land, growing tomatoes, potatoes, and even herbs for medicinal purposes.
“Probably not.”
His tone was somehow blunt. Was it because he disliked talking to me in this hot weather? But then Hans wiped his face and suddenly smiled like a completely different person. It was his usual cheerful smile.
“My friend works at a neighboring mansion; he might have some there. Should I ask him? Do you need fresh mint?”
“Not to that extent… no.”
Strangely, I didn’t want to owe too much to this man. I could easily buy some peppermint from the market.
Hans, standing awkwardly, looked like he was about to say something when music suddenly drifted through the air. Monica unconsciously turned her gaze towards the second-floor hall, where the huge windows were all open.
From her vantage point, she could see people moving about on the railing. Why was I looking for that shining blonde hair among them?
“Does Miss Monica want to go to a party like that?”
Hans’s sudden question startled Monica.
She turned to him in surprise. Hans had taken off his hat and was fanning himself, his eyes fixed on her.
“Those maids talk about it every single day whenever there’s a party at the mansion. From what I see, I guess women like that kind of stuff.”
“That kind of stuff?”
“Well, you know, noblemen showing off their fancy clothes for no real reason and noblewomen giggling behind their fans.”
To be honest, Monica sometimes disliked the nobility for no particular reason. Those ostentatious people, disconnected from dirty laundry or stained bedding, seemed a world apart.
But oddly, when Hans spoke that way, Monica felt a sense of rejection.
Why?
Then, it hit her. Hans wasn’t just mocking nobles—he was mocking her.
It was as if he was saying: Why are you looking at something like that when you’ll never be one of them?
But Monica couldn’t refute him. Perhaps it was her orphan’s inferiority complex, or maybe she simply didn’t want to defend the nobles. Whatever the reason, she bit her lip and shook her head. Hans grinned.
“Truthfully, you wouldn’t even be able to wear those fancy clothes without the maids’ help.”
It was a common sentiment among the lower class when gossiping about nobles—true, yet unkind. And when Hans said it, Monica found it hard to stomach.
Clueless to her feelings, Hans started bragging about his grandfather.
“My family has worked as gardeners since my grandfather’s time. The nobles praise flowers all day long, but they don’t know the hard work it takes to make those flowers bloom.”
I want to go back to my room, Monica thought. But she couldn’t find a polite way to end the conversation.
Hans rambled on, now criticizing wealthy men who deceived women with sweet words, only to abandon them later. His tone turned bitter, almost angry. And Monica could sense, behind his words, a certain affection and anticipation for her.
The feeling of rejection overwhelmed her.
The orphanage taught us how to accept kindness gracefully, but it never taught us how to refuse it. That’s something mothers teach their daughters. And, of course, Monica had never learned.
“Miss Monica?”
Lost in thought, Monica snapped back to reality. Hans was standing in front of her, stretching out his hand.
She instinctively took a step back, exclaiming, “Oh!”
Hans looked startled, his expression turning to resentment. Monica quickly apologized.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something else…”
“No, it’s fine. I was just being… too much.”
Hans crumpled his hat nervously. Monica forced a smile.
“You said it for my own good. Thank you for your advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Oh, well then. That’s good.”
Monica didn’t want to stand under the sun with him any longer. She gave a quick bow and stepped away. But Hans called her again.
“Miss Monica, I… Are you okay?”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, did I upset you earlier?”
A thousand retorts bubbled up in her throat, but none escaped. Monica forced another smile.
“Of course. It’s fine.”
Relieved, Hans bowed and left. Monica swallowed her frustration as she watched him go.
The storm had passed before it could even form.
