134.

A cherry pie topped with glistening red cherries, as vibrant as jewels.

‘Ah.’

A wave of memories rushed over me.

Back in the days when I was scrambling to escape the boarding school, I had bought pies several times from Benedict’s pie shop under the pretense of “running errands.” I’d even handed them out to Lucian and Brigitte in an attempt to build goodwill.

“The pies we shared at the boarding school were so delicious,” Brigitte said brightly.

“Do you remember when I left?”

“Of course. How could I forget?”

Brigitte had been in tears, overwhelmed with emotion, on that clear, blue-skied day as she left. I had watched her go with a pang of envy in my heart, feeling a mixture of sorrow and hope.

“For the first time, I understood what it meant to taste a pie soaked in tears,” Brigitte laughed.

After that, our conversation turned to lighter topics. We chatted about Joseph’s growth, the harvest this year, a new lace design trending in the capital, and other everyday matters.

At some point, I excused myself. “I’ll be right back. Just need to step out for a moment.”

Brigitte smiled at me warmly. “Take your time.”

I glanced back at Brigitte and Marguerite, wondering if it was safe to leave the two of them alone. But then I brushed the thought aside.

‘What could possibly happen?’

* * *

When I returned after washing my hands, I saw Marguerite and Brigitte chatting together. Thankfully, it didn’t seem awkward.

‘Good.’

I had been worried that Brigitte, who was sometimes shy around strangers, might feel uncomfortable. Feeling reassured, I quickened my steps.

Then I heard Marguerite speak up.

“Countess Martin,” she asked suddenly. “May I ask how you and Elze became so close?”

I instinctively halted.

Brigitte looked at Marguerite, her eyes full of wariness.

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just curious,” Marguerite replied with an innocent smile. “I’d love to become close to Elze too, but she always seems to keep her distance from me.”

“From you?” Brigitte asked, surprised.

“Yes. I just feel a little envious when I see how close you are with her…” Marguerite’s tone trailed off, tinged with an almost wistful longing.

Brigitte responded after a pause.

“Well, Elze was incredibly considerate of me when I was at the boarding school.” A warm smile crossed her face. “I’m alive today because of her.”

“It was that significant?”

“Oh, yes. When I was at the boarding school, I felt as though I was always on the brink of despair.”

Brigitte’s voice softened with sincerity. “Elze was there for me, supported me, and thanks to her, I made it out safely.”

Marguerite nodded thoughtfully.

“But, Countess, Elze was the manager at that boarding school, wasn’t she?”

“…”

Brigitte hesitated.

Marguerite looked at her steadily and asked again.

“As the manager, wasn’t it her job to look after the students and ensure they were well?”

“Lady Marguerite…”

“And more than that, as the manager, wasn’t she partially responsible for confining you there?”

I swallowed hard.

It felt as though Marguerite had stabbed me right in my most vulnerable spot.

…It was nauseating.

“You said Elze was kind to you, and I’m sure she was. She’s always been gentle. But…”

Her vivid green eyes glinted with a chilling sharpness.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she was the manager of the boarding school where you were confined, does it?”

“…”

Brigitte fell into a long silence, while Marguerite watched her with a keen, almost predatory interest.

There was something petty in her gaze, a lowly satisfaction akin to watching a friend choose another over herself.

And then—

“Well, that’s true.”

Brigitte responded calmly.

I bit my lip hard.

Yes, indeed.

Manager and student.

Just as my relationship with Lucian had been skewed from the start, my connection with Brigitte was also built on shaky ground.

And on top of that—

‘I approached Brigitte in the beginning to use her.’

No matter what feelings I developed afterward, no matter how sincerely I came to consider Brigitte a friend…

That original, impure intention couldn’t be erased.

At the same time, Brigitte’s voice turned icy.

“But I don’t hold that against her.”

What?

My eyes widened in surprise.

Marguerite stared at Brigitte, looking as though she’d been struck, her expression dazed.

“No matter what intentions Elze may have had when she first approached me, the fact remains that she saved me,” Brigitte declared firmly.

“But, Countess… that’s…”

“At that boarding school, Elze…”

Brigitte clenched her fists tightly in her lap.

“She was the only one who genuinely cared for me.”

Then, with her back straight, she met Marguerite’s gaze head-on.

“So please, don’t speak about my friend in that way ever again.”

“…”

In that moment, I felt something well up from deep within my chest.

Someone who didn’t force expectations upon me.

Someone who didn’t try to control my actions.

Someone who simply cherished me as a friend…

Marguerite clenched her jaw tightly, but then plastered on a smile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Countess Martin.”

“Even if that wasn’t your intention… Ah, Elze!”

Brigitte’s eyes widened as she finally noticed me standing there, looking a bit lost.

“Oh, you’re back?”

She smiled warmly.

“Why are you just standing there? Come sit down.”

“…”

As I moved toward Brigitte, I noticed Marguerite watching me intently from behind her.

Her once vibrant green eyes, usually so lively like a summer forest…

…had turned cold as a winter frost.

* * *

Winter days are quick to lose the light.

As the setting sun painted the world in shades of red, Brigitte looked at me with a hint of regret.

“Take care of yourself, Elze.”

“You too, Brie.”

I managed a smile.

Honestly, I wished Brigitte could stay by my side a little longer. But she was the acting head of the Martin household and had a young son to look after as well. She couldn’t devote all her time to me.

Just then—

“Oh, by the way, you like walnut pie, don’t you, Elze?”

With a small smile, Brigitte handed me a bag with a neatly packaged pie inside.

Had I ever mentioned that I liked walnut pie?

I was a little puzzled as she winked at me.

“I brought this especially for you, so don’t share it with anyone else. Got it?”

“Oh my, you two seem so close,” Marguerite teased playfully.

“I’m almost jealous!”

With that, Brigitte climbed into her carriage and left.

I returned to my room, finally alone, and took out the pie bag she had given me.

Inside was a small, palm-sized pie.

I split it in half.

Inside the pie, nestled in the filling, was a tiny scroll wrapped in string.

‘What is this?’

I carefully unrolled the tiny bundle of paper.

It was a simple map of the area, along with a short note.

[To my dearest Elze,

Forgive me for keeping this message brief, as space is limited.

The Marquess of Offenheir has promised to help you escape.>

‘Dante?’

My eyes widened as they darted over the words.

I understand if you’re reluctant to trust him.

But you can’t remain under the control of the Count of Luneburg forever.

I want you to live freely, without being bound to anyone>

The sincerity of her words pricked at my heart, and I felt a sting at the bridge of my nose.

<The place and time are marked on the map I’ve included. For my sake, please give the Marquess a chance, just this once.

With all my love, Brigitte.>

I swallowed hard, then unfolded the map that was included beside the note.

It was a simple map of the mansion’s surroundings. Behind the mansion lay a birch forest, with a red circle drawn over it.

A familiar forest.

It was the one I’d often wandered into for walks whenever I felt suffocated here.

Below the circled area, scrawled in a familiar hand, was a note.

…It was Dante’s handwriting.