EID Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Bound for Nostia

“Once you return to Raiden, I’ll make arrangements with Miss Josephine. Keep that in mind.”

Margaret Wellington drove her words like nails into Johan’s back.

Damn Josephine. Josephine.

Johan’s expression was fierce as he left the suite. After enduring over two hours of Margaret Wellington’s nagging, he muttered curses under his breath, chewing on the name of a woman whose face he didn’t even know. At this point, he was even curious how formidable a person this unknown woman could be.

Johan tugged at his tie, his face showing clear fatigue. Maurice, waiting in the hallway, quickly took the tie from him. He strode across the corridor bathed in the sunset. Matching his pace, Maurice began reporting:

“They say removing the old paint and finishing the drying process will take at least three days.”

“Two days. Finish it in that time.”

Johan’s voice was lower than usual, edged with sharpness. Maurice, realizing the order was impossible to argue against, simply nodded in agreement.

“Understood. Let’s just hope it doesn’t rain.”

“I meant for you to deliver it.” Johan asked as he loosened his collar button.

“I delivered it to Miss Ann,” Maurice replied with a meaningful look.

Whatever had happened at the Royal Park estate, which had suddenly stormed in the previous night… Johan, returning near midnight, abruptly ordered the Quinteresia to be converted into the Nostia-bound liner—within two days. Truly terrifying decisiveness.

Blanchet, dreaming of Nostia as she boarded the ship, would be utterly shocked to see the ship she arrived at in LeMon Harbor transformed. Maurice shuddered at the thought.

“Keep a tight lid on it.”
“Of course. I’m risking my life to do so.”
“Good. That’s settled.”

Johan’s voice was calm, in stark contrast to the shocking measures he was taking. Was he… in love? Maurice quietly watched Johan’s side profile as he walked straight ahead. Compared to when he left the matron’s room, the atmosphere around him had softened considerably. Johan Leopold had changed.

The man who had seemed lost in the stormy carriage now had a resolute gaze, his determination firmly set. It was a pleasing change to see him less ruled by emotion—but Maurice also thought it dangerous that this resolve was fueled by his divorced wife.

“So, you’re headed to the United States of Nostia?”
“Nostia, huh.”

Edgar glanced at the Golden Avenue panorama, where early twilight had fallen. He smirked, exhaling a thin wisp of cigarette smoke. No expectations, yet perhaps it still stung—an ache in the corner of his chest.

“Miss Ann purchased tickets for the Nostia voyage two days from now.”
“That’s sooner than expected. It’s a long way off too.”

As night slowly fell, hotel lights began to dot the cityscape. Like stars on the ground, they heralded the start of a dazzling Golden Avenue night.

‘Don’t ever see me again.’

So she’s going that far, just to avoid even a chance encounter. Edgar’s gaze, staring at the fleeting world, deepened into a quiet solemnity. A wry smile slipped out along with the cigarette smoke.

I gave up so much just to start with you…

His deep gray-blue eyes, now as vast as the ocean, reflected the crisp autumn night. Slowly, he turned, lifting a framed photo next to the desk clock. Bathed in the warm red glow of the lamp, the woman in the photo shone brightly.

Can I really let you go, Olivia?

Recalling the soft, tender feel of her lips, Edgar slowly pressed his own fingertips against them. Must I let you go? We haven’t even truly begun.

The playful smile on his lips gradually faded.

“Gerald.” Edgar called, letting out a quiet sigh.
“Yes, my lord?”
“There’s something I need you to do.”

Edgar’s gaze on the photo was calm, like the still before a storm. Crushing his spent cigarette in the ashtray, he murmured his instructions in a low voice.

Maurice listened carefully, his face stiffening as the calm, gentle tone conveyed the weight of the orders.

Two days passed in the blink of an eye.

The autumn sky was clear and blue, the wind gentle. Perfect weather for travel.

Their luggage was light. Olivia and Ann had completed all preparations before noon. All that remained was to board the ship. Leaving seemed so simple.

Olivia didn’t even leave a thank-you note. She sat at her desk, the books still uncovered, in her study.

Dear Coach…

Light streamed in through the firmly closed window, glimmering over the letter. Memories of late spring, the first day she met Russell Jr., surfaced, sending gentle ripples through her heart. Olivia quickly blocked those rising thoughts. It was time to say goodbye to the past.

As the sun began to tilt toward dusk, Olivia and Ann left the townhouse. The autumn-scented wind drifted through the park. Ann, gripping her trunk’s handle and staring silently at her feet, lifted her head. Olivia’s dark brown hair rippled under the soft breeze, and her pale, autumn-lit face radiated serenity.

“I must protect her. Always.”

Her mother’s repeated warnings from the day they left Great Hill echoed in Ann’s mind. More pitiful than any servant, the young lady needed protection.

“Do you have something to say, Ann?” Olivia smiled, noticing her gaze.
“No, Miss. Let’s go.” Ann replied lightly, and the two walked down the quiet sidewalk.

A lady who is a lady, yet not really. Who are you? Ann had often wanted to ask. But at some point, she stopped trying to figure it out.

They held hands without restraint, shared glances, slept in the same bed, and… Ann tossed her reddened eyes toward the roadside.

It was the night the master stormed into Lancelot Hotel. Slapped, she nearly fell, and the staff’s descending cane carried more fury than ever. Had fortune been against her, she might have died. Ann braced herself, eyes shut—but it was the young lady who ended up injured. The first time someone had protected her.

“Miss.”
“Hm?”

Her fingers stiffened, her throat choked.
“…It’s nothing.” Ann bit her lip.

“Worried about going to Nostia?”

Her clear eyes curved, sunlight glinting within them. Olivia had never smiled like this.

“Don’t worry, Ann. I won’t let you starve.”

Her lilac shawl fluttered in the breeze over Olivia’s shoulders. Ann stopped, set the trunk down, and adjusted the lace shawl that had slipped to the side. Olivia fixed the ribbon tied at Ann’s blouse collar.

“All set, Miss.”
“Thanks, Ann.”

They continued along the path, now tinged with the reddish light of dusk. Ann silently followed three steps behind, unable to walk beside or ahead.

Sorry, Miss. The ship won’t take you to Nostia. But I believe this is for your happiness.

By the time they arrived at Litten Harbor, the sky had taken on a deep violet twilight, descending upon the sea and docks.

The still-busy harbor remained lively even as the sun set. Passengers boarded ships, workers unloaded cargo, boys pushed carts—everything in a chaotic dance, narrowly avoiding collisions.

Olivia and Ann disembarked and headed straight to the passenger terminal. Entering the red-bricked terminal building, Olivia habitually lowered her hat and walked straight to the information board.

People glanced at her, but she didn’t hesitate, stopping under the board. She checked her ticket and lifted her head, the wide brim blocking her view. She adjusted it with her fingertips.

The Nostalgia.

Scanning from top to bottom for the ship she would take, Olivia’s eyes lit up. The ship’s name appeared at the very last line. Luckily, the departure schedule seemed unchanged. She carefully confirmed the date and time again and returned the ticket to her bag.

“Let’s go, Ann.”

As Olivia turned with Ann, she bumped into someone. Distracted while navigating through the crowd, she quickly lifted her head and apologized.

“I’m sorry. My fault…”

She met the other person’s eyes and trailed off.
“Miss Blanchet?”
“…”

The other’s eyes widened in surprise. The crowd quickly noticed, murmurs spreading.