Chapter 6
Nearly fifteen days had passed since Helena arrived in Frantor, yet she had not taken the time to explore the city. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the view outside the window. Caligo, who had been occasionally glancing at her from behind his newspaper, finally spoke up.
“Frantor must be very different from where you used to live.”
“That’s true.”
“So? What do you think?”
His voice was cold, almost detached.
“Don’t you find this barren, snow-covered place unpleasant?”
“I assumed you were going to say that.”
“It’s a far cry from what I’m used to. Naturally.”
It really was different.
The land of the West, though dry in the harsh winters, remained lush year-round. Regardless of where one went, there was always a sense of vitality in the greenery.
“At first, I disliked it.”
“At first?”
“Yes, but now… I like it, very much.”
Caligo stared at her, his expression unreadable, and then asked softly,
“What is it that you like? There’s little to eat here, and there’s so much scarcity.”
“The people living here. They all live fiercely.”
“Fiercely?”
“Yes, I’m not someone who thrives without struggle. So I guess that’s why I enjoy it.”
Caligo was disturbed by the underlying sense of loss and helplessness that radiated from her. She was no longer someone he needed to care for. She had married into the family, achieving all the goals set by her father, Eskel. Yet, she still irritated him in some inexplicable way.
Initially, when they first met, it had always been Helena in his thoughts. Despite Eskel having other daughters, it was her that he had pursued from the very beginning.
“Your Grace, I apologize. There seems to be a blockage, so we’ll need to wait a moment.”
The carriage suddenly came to a halt, and the coachman’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“No need to rush. We’ll go as soon as the road clears.”
Caligo shifted his gaze back to the newspaper in his hands. Yet, even as he read, his focus kept drifting—toward her face reflected in the window, or the way Jeremy had curled up and fallen asleep beside her, his tattered clothes draped over her lap.
Why her?
Why had he chosen her from the start?
“Damn it, Eskel… they’re nothing but bad luck.”
Lost in his thoughts, he was snapped back to reality by a passerby’s voice.
“This time, the heir of that family kidnapped women for his own gain.”
“And last time, that Count stole people’s money with ridiculous interest.”
“Ugh! I wish all those who carry Eskel’s blood would get struck by lightning on the street.”
“That woman living in the Duke’s estate should die already.”
The conversation inevitably ended with Helena’s name being mentioned in contempt. But she remained calm, her expression serene as if such talk didn’t faze her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
She suddenly broke the silence, noticing his gaze fixed on her.
“Don’t you ever feel unfair hearing such things?”
“What’s unfair about it? I think they’re right.”
Her response was indifferent.
“From what people say, it seems like the world would be better off if Eskel fell. And to do that, it would be best if he dies as soon as possible.”
She spoke as if discussing a stranger’s fate, as if detached from her own lineage.
Hearing such words, she didn’t seem angry.
She listened indifferently to everything, letting it all pass as if it didn’t matter.
“… One less person in this world, if that’s what they want.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, really.”
Helena gave a faint smile, simply laughing.
***
“You didn’t wake me up, Father!”
Jeremy was deeply shocked by the realization that he had slept with his head resting on Helena’s lap.
To put it simply, he was mortified.
“You should’ve slapped me awake! I—I slept on your lap…!”
“Looks like you’ve grown quite close.”
“I’m not close at all! I’m actually keeping an eye on her, making sure she isn’t secretly sending out reports.”
As Helena dressed, the two sat in the salon, wasting time.
Despite his insistence on never getting close to Helena, Jeremy spent the whole day talking about nothing but her.
“There’s still no suspicious behavior. Since she just arrived, she hasn’t made any reckless moves yet.”
“That dress Helena made for you?”
“No. She said it was too small for her, so she gave it to me.”
It was clearly made for a child, not an adult.
“It felt too wasteful to just discard it, so I’ve been wearing it. It’s quite comfortable.”
The dress was well-made, padded with cotton, making it lighter than leather or fur.
“Your own clothes are so worn out, so why would you throw this away?”
Just then, Helena entered the room wearing a new dress. She appeared tense, carefully watching the reactions of the two men.
It clearly didn’t suit her.
Without a word, Helena shyly glanced at Caligo, who was quietly observing her.
“Should I choose another color?”
The dress was a pale green, resembling leaves, chosen to complement her eye color, suggested by a servant.
However, Helena had never worn such a vibrant color before. It felt awkward.
“Maybe beige or ivory would be better? Or brown, since it won’t easily get dirty.”
“Stick with what you’re wearing.”
After a brief silence, Caligo unexpectedly spoke.
“Let’s buy it. Do you have other dresses in different colors?”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“Buy all of them.”
“Wait, wait! What if it doesn’t suit me?”
“No need to see.”
“I’ll pick them myself then.”
She quickly interjected, but Caligo simply responded,
“I’ll handle it.”
Without waiting for a reply, he left the room.
What? If it doesn’t suit her anyway, why bother wasting time on it?
Helena stared in disbelief, barely managing to hold back a laugh.
As Caligo ordered a massive quantity of dresses, the staff in the salon rushed to get everything prepared.
At that moment, Jeremy approached.
“Hey, Watermelon.”
“What?”
“You’ve become Watermelon.”
“…What?”
“It’s not bad. You look… big.”
Jeremy awkwardly coughed, clearly embarrassed, then shouted again,
“Hurry up and pick the dress! Are you planning to keep me waiting?”
“Fine, Watermelon.”
“Why are you calling me Watermelon?”
The two of them were hard to understand—what exactly were they thinking?
“You suit that dress, Jeremy.”
“….”
“You know I said, if you speak nicely to me, I’ll call you nicely too.”
“Pfft, whatever. Just go already.”
Jeremy huffed and walked away.
***
After completing the dress order, Helena visited another salon.
She wasn’t sure if she even needed to go, but a servant insisted on a new shawl to complement the dress.
Unlike the previous salon, this one was newly built and highly modernized.
Helena was fascinated by the array of strange and advanced equipment filling the salon.
However, she gave little to no attention to the shawl she was supposed to purchase, frustrating the servant to no end.
“Jeremy.”
“What?”
“Look at these tools. Aren’t they fascinating?”
“Not at all.”
Her curiosity lay beyond just the clothing. It was the environment of how clothes were made.
Unlike the limited tools available at the Duke’s estate—just needles, thread, scissors, and a cutting machine—this place had a wide variety of professional equipment, sorted by type and size, making the entire process seem much more efficient.
It made her wish that the estate had something similar—maybe then, no one would freeze to death during the harsh winters.
“This is ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous?”
Jeremy was clearly annoyed, his gaze following someone.
Helena followed his gaze and spotted Caligo, standing beside a woman who was closely attached to him—Lady Kenderville, the owner of the recently established salon in Frantor.
“…Ah.”
A secret crush, standing beside another woman.
“Why don’t you try this one on?”
Lady Kenderville placed her hand directly on his arm.
Even a child could see the blatant gesture of seduction.
She exuded natural charm and confidence, effortlessly captivating the men around her.
“I’ve started making men’s clothing too lately. I’d love to offer you some for free if you wish.”
Her golden hair and confident demeanor were undeniably alluring.
“Whatever you wear, Your Grace, you look splendid.”
Of course, this situation wasn’t pleasant for Helena.
Her face visibly darkened.
But she couldn’t do anything—what could she do?
Perhaps Caligo would dislike her stepping in.
“Quick, go stop her.”
Jeremy grumbled, frustrated.
“You said not to act like a mother.”
“…! This isn’t about playing mother.”
“You told me not to get close to the Duke.”
Helena bitterly smiled, murmuring to herself, trying hard not to glance toward Caligo.
But then…
“What’s the meaning of this?”
A loud, unpleasant voice rang out, cutting through the moment.
Helena turned her head to see Caligo brushing off Lady Kenderville’s hand from his waist.
“Daring to touch me without my permission?”
“Forgive me, Your Grace!”
Lady Kenderville was visibly startled by his blunt disapproval.
“Jeremy… Helena.”
Caligo’s voice called out their names, snapping the two out of their silence.
“Don’t stand so far away. Come here, stay by my side.”
