Chapter 36: The Youngest Lady
“Estelle Winchester.”
Lucas called her name in a firm voice, gripping her shoulders.
“!”
Lost in thoughts of Michael and Olivia, Estelle flinched in surprise.
‘…When did we even arrive?’
She suddenly realized she was standing inside the garden of the Madel Count’s estate.
Even after arriving in the South and traveling all the way here, she had remained trapped in the memory of what she had seen earlier.
“Grandfather will be here soon. I don’t know why you suddenly decided to come, but if you came to see him, get yourself together. It’s been a long time.”
Lucas’s words were all correct—every single one.
She hadn’t seen the Madel Count in years, and she deeply regretted not visiting him sooner.
She didn’t want to let herself be so distracted by the past that she neglected him now.
Estelle smacked both her cheeks hard, trying to clear her head.
The sting was sharp, but the daze lifted instantly.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Lucas narrowed his eyes and grabbed her wrist.
“You told me to get it together.”
“No, listen—your skin is too soft. It turns red immediately. Look at this. If Grandfather sees, he’ll think I hit you.”
His reaction was surprisingly over-the-top, but it made sense.
“I can just tell him I did it myself. Let go, it’s annoying.”
Estelle jerked her chin, signaling for him to release her.
“You… Just try hitting yourself again. I’ll tie you up.”
Lucas let go but didn’t stop grumbling.
Just then—
Tap, tap, tap…
The sound of a cane scraping against the ground echoed in the air.
“My lord, please slow down. Don’t strain yourself…!”
“Is it true? Estelle really came?”
“Of course, my lord. The young lady even sent a letter saying she would visit. She’s right over there.”
The Count Madel was walking toward them, supported by the head maid.
Estelle slowly lifted her gaze and met his eyes.
The once-vigorous man, who had held onto his sword even in middle age, had become a frail old man with a hunched back.
The deep wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes told the story of the years that had passed.
“…Estelle?”
Letting go of his cane, Count struggled forward and pulled her into an embrace.
His body trembled slightly.
‘Even though I sent letters, he never replied. We haven’t spoken in so long… I didn’t expect him to welcome me this much.’
It would be a lie to say she wasn’t resentful.
But the warmth of his embrace made her reluctant to pull away.
“…Grandfather.”
He smelled just as she remembered.
“My child, my little one… You’ve grown so much. You were once so small you couldn’t even reach my waist…”
His shoulders shook as he wept.
Estelle didn’t know what to say. She simply placed a careful hand on his back and patted him gently.
“I was so happy when you said you would come. I’m glad I got to see you before I die. Now, I have no regrets…”
The Count Madel had never been the affectionate type.
In fact, sometimes he avoided her altogether, as if the sight of her reminded him of his late daughter.
“What, Grandfather? You see your granddaughter but not me?”
Lucas interrupted sarcastically, and the Count reluctantly let go of Estelle.
“You little brat! Her cheeks are swollen—don’t tell me you did this?”
The head maid quickly handed him his cane, which he immediately swung at Lucas.
“Damn it! I knew this would happen!”
“Watch your language! What kind of noble says ‘damn it’?”
Lucas easily dodged the cane and darted to the other side.
Count chased after him. Though he looked a little breathless, there was a liveliness in his demeanor when interacting with Lucas.
“The count stayed up for several nights after hearing that the young lady was coming.”
Young lady.
It had been a long time since she had heard that title. In the Winchester duchy, the youngest was not her, but Melody.
It felt unfamiliar—but she still liked it. To Count Madel, she was always the youngest.
“The count rarely acts as he used to anymore. But he seems truly happy today. I’m glad. Please, stay for a long time.”
A smile graced the head maid’s lips.
‘I’m glad she’s by his side.’
The Count Madel had remarried because his second wife resembled his first.
‘Even though she abused me, she took good care of Grandfather. She was the reason he held on after my mother passed away.’
Because Estelle had been the cause of that woman’s expulsion, she couldn’t shake off a lingering sense of guilt toward him.
She had always been the one to take away the people he cherished.
The Count dragged Lucas back and led them to the dining room.
“Lucas, I understand that your academy studies are important, but you must also focus on your heir training. The reports I’ve been receiving lately are atrocious.”
“I can’t hear you, Grandfather.”
Lucas covered his ears dramatically.
‘I wish I could be like that.’
Estelle envied Lucas for being able to act so comfortably with him. She didn’t have the courage to join in and quietly picked at her salad.
Seeing this, Count Madel asked in a concerned tone,
“Estelle, is the food not to your liking?”
“No, it’s delicious. I think I just feel a little queasy from the train ride.”
He placed a piece of roasted turkey on her plate.
“This was your favorite when you were little. Eat plenty. For dessert, I asked them to prepare apple sherbet. Do you still like it?”
“…Yes. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
The dining table was filled with only the foods she liked.
For the first time, the warmth of such sincere attention made Estelle feel like she truly belonged.
“Count, the lawyer has arrived.”
At the head maid’s words, he excused himself and left the dining room.
“I wonder why he called a lawyer so suddenly.”
Lucas tilted his head in confusion.
“He must have something to take care of.”
Estelle answered dismissively and let out a small sigh. The exhaustion from the day weighed on her, and she wanted to rest.
‘Grandfather already left, so I should be able to go to my room now.’
She pushed back her chair and stood up.
“Where are you going? You’re not even having the apple sherbet.”
“You can have my share. I’m not really in the mood for sweets.”
She had loved apple sherbet before.
But more than the dessert itself, she had loved the memory of sitting on a garden bench, sharing it with her grandfather.
“I’ll go with you. I’ll walk you to your room.”
“It’s just ahead. I know the way.”
Even though she insisted, Lucas stubbornly followed her upstairs.
As they walked down the corridor, Estelle caught sight of the attic.
The door was boarded up, sealed shut with wooden planks.
“You’re not coming?”
“…If I made a mistake in etiquette or acted in a way that displeased her, she would beat me and lock me up in there.”
Lucas’s face darkened.
He had known that Estelle had been abused by the count’s second wife, but now his expression turned even harsher.
“She actually hit you?”
“Being locked in that attic was worse than being beaten. At least when she hit me, it was over quickly. But in there… they only gave me stale, moldy bread.”
“…Insane.”
“But when you’re hungry enough, you end up eating it anyway.”
The more she spoke, the more she felt as if she were back in that dusty, suffocating attic.
“I’m going to sleep.”
“Estelle—!”
Ignoring Lucas, Estelle quickly walked past the attic.
‘It’s okay.’
‘I’ll never have to go into that attic again.
I’ll never have to eat stale, moldy bread again.’
Estelle repeated the thought over and over, as if hypnotizing herself.
* * *
After washing up, Estelle dried her hair and gazed out the window.
Night had fallen.
The sky was pitch black, adorned with delicate, twinkling stars. They shone so beautifully that she started counting them.
‘One, two, three…’
The night sky felt so close, as if she could reach out and touch it.
Only here in Madel estate could she witness such a view.
‘My throat’s been dry for a while now.’
She reached for the teapot on the nightstand, but the surface was lukewarm.
She wanted cold water.
Estelle was about to pull the servant bell but hesitated.
‘It’s not urgent, and calling someone this late just for a glass of water feels excessive.’
It would be better to go down and get it herself.
Draping a shawl over her shoulders, Estelle stepped into the corridor.
As she passed by Count Madel’s bedroom, she noticed the door was slightly ajar.
‘Why isn’t he asleep yet? He seemed busy earlier… is he still working?’
A faint light seeped through the gap.
Curious, Estelle cautiously approached and peeked inside.
Count Madel was seated in an armchair, holding a paintbrush.
Beside him stood an old easel, and he was painting something.
‘What is he painting instead of sleeping?’
She quietly moved to close the door, not wanting to disturb him—
But suddenly, Count erupted into a violent, tearing cough.
“Grandfather, are you all right…?”
A sinking feeling of unease washed over her.
As Estelle stepped inside, an iron-like scent hit her nose.
On the floor—
Dark red blood was splattered across the wooden planks.
“…Estelle? Why are you here…?”
His eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of her.
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