If I was Going to Regret It Anyway

A few days later, Daryl was in the office with Philip when the butler came in with two servants. The servants were carrying something rectangular wrapped in yellow paper.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“It’s a gift from His Highness the Crown Prince.”

 

“Leave it there.”

 

The servants left the gift leaning against the wall by the door and exited.

 

“Prepare a thank you letter and a suitable return gift to send.”

 

“Yes.”

 

After giving Philip a few more instructions, Daryl dismissed him.

 

Alone now, Daryl lit a cigar. As he leaned back in his chair and slowly exhaled smoke, his gaze landed on the Crown Prince’s gift. Daryl got up and walked over to the gift. He tore off the wrapping with a knife, revealing what was inside.

 

It was an oil painting of a garden scene. At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary landscape painting, but upon closer inspection, there was a translucent cross dividing the painting into four. In other words, it was a view of the outside world through a window.

 

‘So the title is <Spring Outside the Window>.’

 

Daryl took a puff of his cigar.

 

Aaron had said it was a bright painting suitable for newlyweds, but to Daryl’s eyes, it gave off a completely different impression. Despite the canvas being filled with colorful pastel-toned spring flowers, the overall touch was rough and intense, the shading was heavily expressed, and the oppressive presence of the window, as if it had a thick layer applied, prevented the brilliance of spring from fully blooming.

 

It was surprising. Even though only bright and vibrant colors were used, it could give such a gloomy nuance. It was as if spring was trapped in a cage.

 

‘No, is the one trapped in the cage the painter himself?’

 

Daryl could feel the intense loneliness and longing for freedom deeply embedded in the painting as if it were his own. Although it was definitely not to his taste, it was a strangely captivating work that was hard to look away from. There was definitely a charm to this painting that drew the viewer in. Marcus Miller, was it? He felt like he understood a little why the paintings of this artist were worth the call these days.

 

There was a signature in the corner of the painting, “M. M.” Two letters of the alphabet in a plain, unadorned handwriting. It seemed like even a child could forge it if they wanted to. It was strange. The painting contained such a strong assertion of self, yet the signature was as if it belonged to someone else.

 

Then there was a knock on the door.

 

“Come in.”

 

The door opened and Eleanor entered.

 

“Did you call for me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Daryl returned to his desk, stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray, and sat down.

 

“The schedule for the palace visit has been set. You will accompany me to pay respects to His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress in three days.”

 

Paying respects to the royal family was an essential part of making a formal debut in society. Typically, debutantes would line up and take turns greeting the royals during a limited time, and then leave.

 

It was extremely unusual for Eleanor to pay respects to the Emperor and Empress at the same time with Daryl as part of her debut. Therefore, this visit was essentially a chance to introduce Eleanor while reporting on Daryl’s marriage.

 

“Since it’s an important occasion, make sure to prepare thoroughly. Of course, there should be no mistakes.”

 

“I understand.”

 

“That’s all. You may leave now.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Eleanor bowed her head and turned around. Daryl watched her retreating figure.

 

This was the first time Eleanor had visited this room since that dinner. That night, Daryl had vented his anger caused by Cecilia on Eleanor. He was already furious, and she kept whining about irrelevant things, so it was only natural that he exploded.

 

After such an incident, he thought she would avoid him or show resentment for at least a day or two. However, the next morning, when they accidentally ran into each other in the hall on the first floor, she greeted him with an unaffected smile.

 

“Daryl, did you sleep well?”

 

Even though other servants were watching, her attitude was so casual that it made him wonder if what happened the night before was just a dream.

 

Since that day, Eleanor’s already awkward smile had become even more uncomfortable.

 

What on earth was she thinking? Looking back, there had never been a woman who had so consistently defied his expectations as Eleanor had. If he had the chance, he would like to take a look inside her head.

 

Then, Eleanor’s footsteps suddenly stopped. Her gaze was fixed on Marcus Miller’s painting as if nailed to it.

 

“What?”

 

“…”

 

There was no response from Eleanor. It seemed as if she hadn’t even heard Daryl’s voice. Daryl got up from his seat and approached her.

 

“Do you know this painting?”

 

When he asked from behind, Eleanor looked back at Daryl in surprise, then immediately dropped her gaze.

“…No.”

 

She seemed strangely flustered. As Daryl watched her intently, Eleanor quickly moved towards the door.

 

“Then, I’ll excuse myself.”

 

After Eleanor left and the door closed, Daryl shrugged his shoulders and returned to his desk.

 

****

 

“Eleanor, are you listening to me?”

 

Eleanor suddenly lifted her head. Marianne was looking at her with a slightly worried expression.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

 

“Are you okay? You’ve been looking really pale lately. It seems like you’re losing weight too.”

 

In fact, the finished dresses she tried on the other day were loose despite being custom-made, so they had to be altered again.

 

“As I told you before, you shouldn’t starve yourself to manage your weight. Especially since you, Eleanor, don’t have much muscle and you’re always indoors. Both the ball and the wedding require quite a bit of stamina. You might even faint on the day itself.”

 

“Yes, I understand. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

 

“Why are you apologizing again? Oh dear.”

 

Marianne pouted with a disappointed expression.

 

Eleanor was indeed aware that her physical condition had not been good recently. First of all, the frequency of nausea had increased, and because of that, she had lost her appetite and digestion was not going well, so her eating had become poor. Thus it was natural that she was losing weight. The fact that she had been unable to sleep deeply at night since coming to Chatsworth House must have contributed as well.

 

She had anticipated that life at the Duke’s house would not be easy. But when she opened the lid, it was harder than she expected. There was not a single person who was easy to deal with, starting with Daryl, her husband-to-be.

 

Above all, the absence of Peggy was the hardest. She realized anew how much comfort her presence had been to her, and how kind and affectionate the servants at the mansion in Loud had been to her.

 

Eleanor thought she was used to loneliness. But apparently not.

 

‘You’re getting hurt because you’re weak, even when you don’t need to be.’

 

She had intended not to expect anything from Daryl from the beginning. Even if he treated her coldly and harshly, she intended to accept it calmly. But the harsh words she heard from Daryl on the night of the family dinner left a bigger bruise than she thought. When she was alone in her room, the words he had said would suddenly pop up again and again.

 

[You’re an enemy to me. From the moment you popped out of your mother’s belly to now, you’ve been nothing but a stumbling block to me.]

 

She must have known from the beginning. His contempt for her, his enmity, and the reasons why he had no choice but to do so.

 

She didn’t understand why she was so affected by Daryl. It was understandable that her tender heart of sixteen was powerless against his poisonous tongue, but there was no reason for that now.

 

She had to become numb. She just had to let it go without thinking about anything. As she had done until now, and as she would continue to do.

 

‘…Why is that painting here?’

 

Honestly, she couldn’t help but be surprised. All the paintings hanging in Chatsworth House were classics that were at least several decades old after the artist’s death. She thought it was a selection that matched both the traditional style of the noble house and Daryl’s taste. But why was that painting in Daryl’s room yesterday?

 

She had heard that the name Marcus Miller was quite famous among enthusiasts. She also knew that works released under his name were traded at surprisingly high prices. But seeing that painting in person, especially in this mansion, felt very strange.

 

She was curious. What did Daryl think when he saw that painting? How did he evaluate it?

 

“It’s time for dance practice, but I’m not sure if it’s okay to go on like this. Shall we take a break today?”

 

At Marianne’s words, Eleanor suddenly snapped out of her thoughts. She hastily shook her head.

 

“No, I’m fine. I can do it.”