Chapter 45
How on earth did you live after I left you?
“My lady, there’s too much dust out here. Let’s head inside first. Ed, you finish things up here.”
“Understood. Lady Clea, I’ll see you inside shortly.”
“Go on now, my lady.”
“Ah… yes, alright.”
“Oh my, what a charming and tidy little house.”
As Clea stepped inside and looked around, Charles followed, gasping in disbelief.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been cleaning this house, cooking, and doing everything by yourself without a single servant?”
“Uh… well, it wasn’t all that hard.”
“No wonder you’ve lost so much weight. You’ve worn yourself thin with all this work. But worry no more. Now that I’m here, my lady doesn’t have to lift a finger again.”
Charles rolled up her sleeves, threw open the windows, and began wiping down the table.
“W-wait, Charles. That’s not… I’m no longer a ‘lady’ anymore.”
But Clea ignored her, gently leading her to the sofa and making her sit down.
“My lady, your legs must ache. Sit here and rest. Jean, how much longer? Her ladyship must be hungry. She always had her breakfast promptly at eight.”
“Just a moment, head maid! I’m honestly moved. Every single thing here—the kitchen, the ingredients—are laid out exactly like my old one. Please wait just a little longer. I’ll prepare a special dish I created just for my lady.”
Was my house always this small?
When she lived alone, it seemed rather spacious.
But now, with Clea, Charles, and Jean bustling about, it suddenly felt cramped.
Still, this isn’t a dream, is it?
After Ruan left, she thought she’d never see them again.
And yet here they were, talking to her as if they had only parted yesterday.
Nostalgia for her old life at the duke’s estate welled up inside her, and before she knew it, she was smiling.
“My lady, breakfast is ready. Please come eat.”
“Oh… thank you.”
Led by Charles, Mercian sat at the table, only to find it covered with food.
The sight hit her like a wave.
That familiar smell.
Those beloved dishes.
And the people she had missed the most.
Having them here again—it was almost too much, like waking into a dream she never wanted to end.
“My goodness, Jean. Did you really prepare all this in such a short time?”
Mercian fought back tears as she asked.
Jean, proudly holding a ladle, replied with a grin:
“Go on, taste it, my lady. I made this just for you.”
“Thank you, Jean. Charles, go fetch Ed. We’ll eat together.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
And so, surrounded by those dearest to her—people who had been more family than her own blood—Mercian shared the happiest breakfast she had known since leaving the duke’s household.
***
Should I open the door?
Ruan stood outside, hand hovering over the doorknob, but hesitated.
From within came Mercian’s voice, bright and lively as she chatted with the others.
It was so warm, so beautiful, that Ruan felt he had no right to intrude.
So that’s why I brought them here.
It was the right choice.
I can’t see her face, but… to hear her voice like this again is enough.
And so, he lingered at her doorstep, listening to her laughter spill out into the quiet morning.
“Hahaha, Rosalin? Oh, heavens, no. I still like my lady’s old name better. Don’t you agree, head maid?”
“Well, perhaps. But if my lady truly wishes to change her name, it matters little. Whatever her name may be, she’ll always be our lady.”
“That’s right. But Jean—what is this stew? It’s incredible!”
“Charles is right, it’s delicious. Jean, you must teach me the recipe before we head back to the capital.”
Mercian’s words drifted out, but Jean only pretended not to hear, ladling himself another spoonful of stew.
Jean beamed with pride as he scooped another spoonful of stew into his bowl.
“Haha, this is my special pork stew. Since my lady has always loved pork, I made it with all my heart, thinking only of her.”
At his words, Charles pouted, her lips curving into an envious little sulk.
“Honestly, Jean, that’s unfair! You’re trying to win points with my lady like this? No wonder you were so eager to come down here. I thought it was suspicious from the start. Turns out you weren’t worried about her meals at all—you just wanted to show off a new dish and impress her!”
Jean chuckled, wagging his ladle like a victor’s banner.
“Charles, don’t forget—it’s thanks to me that we found our lady in the first place.”
Mercian tilted her head, her brow knitting with curiosity.
“What do you mean by that, Jean? You’re the one who found me?”
Jean’s cheeks flushed at her questioning gaze.
He scratched the back of his neck before confessing:
“Well, there’s this tea shop owner I know… he told me he’d eaten a sandwich that tasted exactly like the ones I make. I didn’t believe him at first, but when I checked, it really was my recipe. That’s when I realized—it had to be you, my lady, who made it.”
In his words, Mercian suddenly remembered Zelda’s suggestion.
The one who had wanted to sell her sandwiches in the capital… that must have been the very same tea shop owner Jean knew.
“Oh—I see now. So the shopkeeper Zelda mentioned was your acquaintance?”
“Yes. So in the end, it’s thanks to me that we were able to find you, my lady. Later, through Lord Cassel, we confirmed that you were truly alive. You can’t imagine the relief it brought us all.”
So that’s how Ruann was able to find me…
Only now did Mercian finally piece the truth together.
Jean’s voice softened, tinged with worry as he continued.
“Of course, knowing you were safe was wonderful. But more than anything… After you left, the master began searching for you without rest. He neither ate nor slept. We feared if it went on any longer, we would soon be holding his funeral instead.”
He didn’t eat… didn’t even sleep?
“Ah, that reminds me. Has Ruann not come down yet?”
Edward shook his head gravely, as if recalling how close disaster had truly come.
Before Mercian could press the matter further, Clea leapt to her feet with a start.
“Oh heavens! We completely forgot about the master. My lady, forgive us. We were so overjoyed to see you again that it slipped our minds entirely. He’s staying at the manor across the way—we should have brought him with us. No… wait. You haven’t forgiven him yet, have you? It would only make you uncomfortable. In any case, it’s not as though we could summon him.”
“Well, perhaps, but then… What about Ruan ’s meal?”
At Mercian’s hesitant words, Edward rose swiftly from his chair and looked to Jean.
“My lady, allow me. Jean, you set aside a portion for the master, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I saved his share separately.”
“Then I’ll take it to him at once. I’ve finished eating.”
“Ah… yes. Please do,” Mercian replied softly.
Edward gathered the food with careful hands, while Jean also stood, preparing to follow.
“I should excuse myself as well, since I’ve finished my meal. I need to take a look at the kitchen at the master’s residence.”
“Mm, go ahead.”
“Then the rest of you, stay and keep Lady Mer company.”
Once Edward and Jean carried the food out of the house, Mercian lowered her eyes, guilt flickering across her face.
“I feel bad… because of me, Ruan’s breakfast must be late.”
At that, Clea placed another helping of food in front of her and spoke gently.
“My lady, don’t trouble yourself with that. Please, have some more. To think you’ve grown this thin… you must have been terribly unwell. And it’s all because of the master, isn’t it?”
“Well… not entirely. But tell me, Clea—was Ruan really that unwell? The last time I saw him, he seemed perfectly fine on the outside.”
Of course, she remembered the sleeping draughts the sorcerer had prescribed for his restless nights.
Sensing her mistress’s concern, Clea smiled reassuringly.
“Oh, you needn’t worry so much. Curse or no curse, the truth is, the master was never a hearty eater to begin with. At least when you were here, my lady, he would share breakfast and dinner with you and eat something. But after you left… he hardly ate even a single meal a day. Why, even Lady Canoluf said he looked worse than when she herself had been cursed.”
At this, Charles nodded vigorously.
“That’s true. When you were here, my lady, he looked healthier. After you left… Sometimes he’d wander the halls of the ducal manor late at night, and the maids who saw him thought they were seeing a ghost and fainted in fright. No matter how much we begged him to eat, he refused, saying, ‘How can I eat or sleep when I don’t even know if she’s alive?’ Eventually, Madam herself had to plead with Marquis Hyneve to intervene. The marquis stayed at the manor for a time just to force-feed the master. Every mealtime was like a battle, I swear.”
Lord Tablo himself had to stay in the manor to make sure Ruan ate?
Was it truly that bad?
Ruan… what kind of life did you live after I was gone?
Merician’s expression darkened Charles’s words.
Clea, noticing her unease, added softly,
“And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Sleep—oh, my lady, you wouldn’t believe it. I never knew a person could go so long without rest and still keep breathing.”
“Sleep?” Mercian murmured. “He always had bouts of insomnia, but I thought at least with sleeping draughts he managed to rest. I knew the sorcerer prescribed him medicine…”
Charles tore off a piece of bread and tilted his head.
“That’s just it. The master told us when he’s under stress, his nerves get so sharp that even with the potion, he can’t sleep. After you left, he might sleep for two hours at most. The rest of the time, he locked himself in the study, working through the night. They say he cleared an entire year’s worth of backlogged affairs in just four months—Sir Kassel couldn’t believe it. No matter how much he begged the master to rest, he wouldn’t. Finally, Cassel had no choice but to fetch the sorcerer’s strongest draughts for him.”
Two hours of sleep a night?
Ruan… how could you go on like that after I left?
Her heart twisted painfully at the thought.
“I… I see…” she whispered.
Charles shrugged. “Well, that’s only fair, isn’t it? He lied to you, pretended to be dead. If he didn’t suffer at least that much, would he even be human? Isn’t that right, Clea?”
“Of course,” Clea agreed, spooning up her soup. “So please, my lady, don’t worry about the master. He’s fine now. Honestly, I think you are in worse shape than he is. If you’re going to return to how you once were, you’ll need to eat much, much more.”
Return to how I once was?
Does that mean… they didn’t truly despise how I looked before?
Mercian had convinced herself that regaining weight would only remind others of her old self—sluggish, useless, unloved.
And so, even when hunger gnawed, she ate sparingly to maintain her thinner frame.
“Clea… don’t you think I look much better now? Back then, I wasn’t exactly… pleasant to look at.”
Clea tilted her head, frowning in thought.
“You, my lady? I can’t quite agree. You look fine now, yes, but back then—oh, forgive me for saying this—but with your round cheeks and soft, plump face… you were adorable. Sweet, even. Wasn’t she, Charles?”
Charles gave a small smile.
“I thought so too. But if you feel more comfortable this way, then it doesn’t matter. To us, my lady, you are precious in any form—so long as you are healthy, that’s all that matters. Isn’t that right, Head Maid?”
“Indeed,” Clea confirmed warmly.
At their words, Mercian felt her heart swell, soft and warm.
Truly… they care nothing for appearances. They simply love me as I am.
Zelda, Clea, Charles, the other members of the household… even her aunt.
To have such people beside me—it fills me with such happiness, such peace.
