Chapter 127
On Deck at Sunset
When the steward opened the cabin door, a sight to widen anyone’s eyes unfolded.
The first-class suite on the very top deck was hardly different from a hotel suite.
The luxurious cabin was equipped with a lavish bedroom and sitting room with an attached bath, a private terrace with floor-to-ceiling glass, and even a walkway leading to the boat deck.
It was more than enough to avoid meeting other passengers…
It was a passage Mr. Morris had arranged for Anne, who had twisted her ankle after being shoved by a pickpocket boy.
Olivia thought Morris’s consideration was somewhat excessive as she slowly looked around the interior.
“It’s an honor to serve you. I wish you a pleasant voyage.”
After giving a brief explanation about life aboard the cabin for the coming month, the steward offered a polite bow and withdrew.
Olivia removed her plain hat and coat, adorned only with a deep-blue ribbon, and began unpacking with Anne.
“Allow me, miss.”
Anne, limping, tried to take the bag from Olivia’s hands.
Olivia’s complexion was so pale she looked ready to collapse at any moment. Feeling it was all her fault, Anne’s heart grew heavy.
“I’ll do my own things,” Olivia said softly, shaking her head.
She needed something to focus on, but it didn’t help much.
She blankly toyed with a blouse she had taken from the trunk spread open on the bed.
Her body might have boarded a ship bound for Nostia, but her every thought remained at Litten Royal Hospital.
Had he woken up…?
The thick fabric crumpled in her hands.
Her mind kept drifting back to that man. She shouldn’t.
She was wavering.
Olivia steadied herself, hung the blouse on a hanger, and placed it in the wardrobe.
She neatly arranged her clothes, hats, and shoes.
The modest unpacking was finished in less than half an hour.
“…He will look for you.”
Morris’s voice beat against her ears like crashing waves. Olivia shook her head and turned toward Anne.
“Isn’t there anything I can help with, Anne?”
Anne had started sorting through Olivia’s clothes in the wardrobe.
Prone to seasickness, she wanted to finish as much as possible before the voyage began.
She planned to take out the clothes Olivia would wear tomorrow and the wrinkled ones, then bring them to the laundry service the steward had just mentioned.
“No, miss. I’ll just stop by the laundry.”
“Be careful, Anne.”
“Lock the door, please.”
Once the door shut, the cabin grew even quieter. Sunlight streamed through the terrace windows and spread across the floor like a golden carpet.
Everything was already perfectly in order, leaving nothing more for her to do.
With a small sigh, Olivia picked up a book from the nightstand and sat at the tea table, facing the terrace beyond the glass.
She began reading a guidebook for Nostia travelers.
Line by line, she absorbed the text—until her gaze froze at a single point.
At the transition from “K” to “L” in the alphabetized list of hotels.
Leopold Hotel.
She stared blankly at the name for a long time, as if hearing his voice again.
“Do you want me to go searching for you? Then I will.”
She could almost see those ashen eyes, sinking deep, fixed on her.
Olivia shook her head violently, trying to shake off the meaningless sentiment.
Just then—knocking. She flinched, heart racing.
Crossing the sitting room, she went to the door.
“…Who is it?”
She bit her lip hard. The silence that followed felt like hours.
“Jack Daniel, Miss Blanchet. I’ve brought your tea.”
“Ah!”
Olivia gasped and opened the door.
The ever-polite steward placed a silver tray on the tea table.
The rising steam and slowly spreading fragrance seeped into her chest.
Her erratic heartbeat gradually calmed.
“Please call whenever you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
With a refreshing smile, the steward departed.
What had she hoped for?
Staring blankly at the closed door, Olivia wondered—had she been expecting him to be standing there?
As she turned back from the doorway, a flicker of self-mockery passed through her eyes.
She walked past the tea table and stepped onto the terrace.
Opening the glass door, she let the sea breeze wrap around her.
Sweeping her windblown hair aside, she walked forward.
The great palm leaves and tropical plants cast exotic patterns of light and shade.
It was an enchanting space, enough to forget she was at sea—but nothing reached her eyes.
Passing between palms, Olivia walked to the terrace’s edge.
Beyond the railing stretched the endless blue sea. Shards of sunlight shattered across the waves, glittering silver-white.
“…Go back, Olivia.”
On the wind over the sea, she thought she heard his voice. Her grip on the railing tightened.
If she went back…
Then what?
Olivia shut her eyes tight.
The memory of Johan and Clara’s first meeting unfolded before her like a vivid film scene.
In the colonial city of Rondos, Johan visited Hesse’s steelworks. On his way back to the hotel, after inspecting the factory, rioters attacked.
His carriage burned, and gravely injured, Johan fled into the alleys of the capital.
Bleeding into the dark streets, he staggered until he collapsed—right in front of Clara’s home.
And it was Johan who fell in love.
Olivia opened her eyes and drew a deep breath.
Don’t fool yourself, Han Ji-an.
Her ocean-blue eyes, moist with tears, quietly fixed on the endless horizon.
Strictly speaking, Johan Leopold had thrown himself before flying bullets not for her, but for Olivia Blanchet.
For the wife he had only now realized he loved.
So it wasn’t love for you. Don’t get confused, don’t let yourself suffer later. You cannot defy fate.
She lectured herself again and again.
If she didn’t want to follow in the footsteps of Olivia Blanchet—who had destroyed herself in a mad love—she must not waver.
At least in this life, she must live quietly, peacefully.
As tranquil as this sea.
A long blast of the ship’s whistle echoed. Startled seabirds rose, crying.
Olivia turned her head from the railing.
From the giant smokestacks, black smoke began billowing skyward. Another blast vibrated through her chest.
It’s really… departing.
She felt the ship’s hull slowly sliding from the pier, turning in a wide arc.
As the vessel changed course, the cityscape of Litten came into view.
Through layers of white clouds, streaks of gold and pink painted the sky above the city.
In the picturesque scene, Olivia’s gaze wandered, searching for the hospital where he might be.
Had he awakened…?
Litten receded.
The blossoming spring days, the blazing summer sun—all were carried away with the current, growing smaller and smaller.
Standing upright and still, Olivia remained wordless in the silence.
She let the sea breeze carry her as she gazed at the horizon, until the rosy sunlight sank into sunset upon the water.
The sun, now crimson, slowly fell toward the sea. It was then she heard that strange, uneven sound.
“….”
She knew it wasn’t Anne—the sound was different. But who else could approach her now?
“Anne?”
Her voice trembled faintly as she called. But Anne’s calm reply never came.
Her heartbeat quickened. Catching her breath, Olivia slowly turned.
“….”
The cries of seabirds, the sound of waves against the hull, the echo of the whistle—all vanished in an instant.
In that silence, their eyes met.
Olivia clapped a hand over her mouth.
There, on deck at sunset, stood Johan Leopold.
His platinum hair, dyed with the glow of dusk, whipped wildly in the wind.
With the thud of his black cane striking the deck, he began walking toward her.
At last, standing before her, he smiled with an unreadable expression.
“Let’s go home, Olivia.”
Like a gentle husband come to fetch his wife from an outing.
In the soft embrace of the sunset settling on his shoulders, Olivia could say nothing.
Only the walls she had built—cracking, crumbling soundlessly under the fresh, sea-breeze smile.
You were waiting for him.
In the indescribable joy, sorrow, and fear, Olivia finally admitted the truth she had turned away from.
