89. Overstepping

The boy took the letter from the table and slowly backed away. He bowed again before hurrying off.

As soon as he mounted his horse and spurred its sides, the white horse galloped away.

“Are you sure it’s okay to send him off like that?”

Suren watched him disappear into the distance.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Her gaze remained fixed on the boy, a hint of regret lingering in her eyes.

“Do you want me to be more polite?”

Suren shook her head.

“Not at all. …I’m just worried we might lose our only source of funds.”

I hadn’t considered that. Suren’s words made me a bit anxious. Maybe I should have been more tactful.

“We need to find a way to make money. We have to find a way to survive.”

I muttered to myself.

* * *

I held a pole high and shook the branches. Fruit fell to the ground. Suren picked them up and rubbed them clean with her apron, then handed them to me.

The fruit was purple. It had some unsightly marks, and its strange color made me uneasy. I had never seen such a dark fruit before.

“Are you sure these are edible?”

I asked cautiously, still shaking the branches. Suren replied,

“Yes, don’t worry. These fruits ripen often. They’re just very astringent, so people don’t usually eat them. They might taste sweeter if we bake them. Shall we try baking them?”

Suren gathered some nearby branches. She pushed the fallen fruit towards the pile of straw with her foot.

These were fruits we found in a place already picked over by the starving villagers. This meant that even peasants who had been hungry for days wouldn’t eat them.

“We have to fill our stomachs with these?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

Suren shrugged. Despite her young age, she knew a lot. She collected edible mushrooms, herbs, and fruits while wandering the hills. Most of what she found were leftovers or newly sprouted shoots, as the villagers had already scavenged the area.

“Maybe we can make jam?”

I took a bite of the fruit and spat it out. The astringent taste clung to my tongue.

“Jam?”

“Yes. We just need sugar.”

“That’s true, but… I don’t know if we have any sugar left.”

“Let’s just pick the fruit for now.”

I stood on tiptoe and shook the branches above.

Suren tapped the tree trunk from below. Thorns stuck to her clothes.

We picked a large batch of fruit and finally descended the mountain as dusk fell.

The mountain, wet with dew, was steep. I brushed the dirt off my dress and headed toward the mansion.

As we neared the mansion, I noticed a dark figure lingering at the front gate.

He stood anxiously at the door, then moved to the pillar, and again to the broken window. His long shadow swayed back and forth.

His back was slightly hunched, and his steps were unsteady, like someone who had grown old, gotten out of a long sickbed, and whose legs had not yet fully recovered.

As I got closer, I saw his graying hair.

The dark figure stood still for a moment upon noticing me, then quickly ran over.

“Where have you been?”

“Butler.”

As I expected, the shadow was the Butler. However, his face was unusually tense, which was unlike him. He was always the picture of calm, no matter the situation.

“Why did you come out and wait here? Is something wrong?”

His health had not fully returned. Usually, if he had nothing to do, he would rest in bed or read. For him to be outside late at night in the cold air, coughing, was worrying.

“I was looking for you, my lady. I was waiting out front, fearing we might miss each other.”

“Didn’t I tell you? I went to the hills to check the villagers’ farmland and gather some fruit.”

With so few people left at the mansion, we usually informed each other of our movements. There were no guards to protect the estate, making it even more necessary.

I was certain I had informed him. Suren seemed just as puzzled as she set the basket of fruit down on the ground.

“I know. But you were a bit late.”

The night had deepened. The sky was studded with stars.

“Yes, we had to search deeper into the forest.”

We had scoured the entire hill today. Despite carrying an empty basket, we found so few fruits that we could have gathered them with our hands.

Even so, the Butler was not one to scold me. He believed that running around outside was better than being cooped up indoors, like a typical noblewoman.

He spoke again with his parched lips.

“Please, come inside quickly.”

He urged me towards the mansion.

“Wait a moment. My shoes are muddy. Let me change my shoes and clothes first…”

I started to say, but the Butler’s voice interrupted me.

“His Highness has arrived.”

“His Highness?”

My body stiffened.

There was only one person he could be referring to as ‘His Highness.’

And now I noticed that the Butler wasn’t the only one standing in front of the mansion.

A large carriage was parked at the front gate. Its sheer size seemed to block the entire entrance.

The carriage bore the emblem of a laurel wreath, symbolizing the Duke’s house.

Next to it stood a familiar boy. The messenger who had brought the letters looked even thinner and paler in such a short time.

“My lady.”

He hesitated, then spoke.

“His Highness the Prince has come with him. He wanted to see you in person.”

“Me?”

“Yes…”

Was he always this obsessive? Had a single letter really disturbed him so much? I couldn’t understand why he was so insistent on inviting me to this banquet. It was as if he were desperate to host a party.

According to the Butler, it was a meaningless event.

It wasn’t a birthday celebration or a grand ball to welcome him to the capital. It was just one of the many annual banquets hosted by the royal family. Yet, he seemed determined to have me attend.

His intention wasn’t to bring me back to the prince’s domain permanently.

It was simply an invitation to enjoy the banquet for a short time before returning. I had no desire to attend such an event.

The door of the carriage was open. Inside, I saw a plush carpet laid out neatly.

But I had no desire to get in. The wide-open carriage felt like the gateway to the underworld, ready to swallow me whole.

The open door looked like the gaping maw of a monster. I swallowed hard.

* * *

It had been a long time since I last saw his face. In the dark prison, I couldn’t see him clearly.

Was he as haggard as he looked in the prison?

At least now, he seemed healthy and well. It felt like I was the only one who had suffered.

His disheveled hair had returned to its original sleekness.

A lavender brooch adorned the left side of his black suit. The golden frame around the gemstone was familiar. It was clearly the emblem of the royal family.

Had he managed to push out Azanti and reclaim his royal status?

If so, he was no longer the Deon I knew.

Seeing him as a perfect member of the royal family felt strange.

The gold embroidery on his suit, and even the buttons on his cuffs, were all gold-plated. The opulence was a stark contrast to my attire.

The tightly buttoned front of his suit made him look even more impeccable.

The excessive glitter did not match the shabby mansion at all.

I felt uncomfortable. Technically, this was his house, but I wished he would leave soon.

Deon sat with his legs crossed on the sofa.

It was a faded, dusty sofa that no one used often.

But with him sitting on it, it looked different. Despite the sagging cushions, he maintained a perfect posture.

I approached and sat across from him.

As soon as I sat down, Deon spoke as if he had been waiting.

“You injured your left foot.”

He looked me up and down as he spoke.

The Butler, standing behind Deon with his hands clasped, winked at me.

‘I’ve already told him the story.’

Reading his quickly mouthed words, I responded.

“Yes.”

“How did that happen? I distinctly remember telling you to stay inside the mansion.”

“I slipped. I fell down the stairs.”

Since I said it happened on the stairs and not outside, he couldn’t argue further but frowned deeply.

Then, in a slightly forceful tone, he said,

“You should attend the banquet. Prepare to leave immediately.”

He brought up the banquet again. I let out a sigh.

“I told you I couldn’t go. I sent a letter through a servant. Didn’t you receive it?”

“Yes, I received it.”

“Then why…”

“I thought I needed to see it for myself.”

His gaze slowly traveled down to my ankle.

I felt exposed. Hastily, I tried to hide my ankle under my skirt, but the dirt on my shoes fell to the floor.

The ground was damp and muddy from the mountain path. I quickly scraped my shoes against each other to remove the mud, but it wouldn’t come off easily.

“You said you hurt your foot, but it looks fine to me.”

He scrutinized my ankle with a piercing gaze and then sneered.

His eyes showed he had seen through my lie immediately.

He leaned back comfortably against the sofa and stared at me.