WBWB | Chapter 31

That night, Lady Ana cried herself to sleep in my arms. I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead until she drifted off. But truthfully, I wanted to cry too.

‘I miss them…’

I simply wanted to cry along with Lady Ana.

It was late at night when Lady Ana finally fell asleep. Her warmth almost lulled me to sleep as well. I wiped her tear-stained face and stepped out into the hallway. It was dark, as expected. 

The servants would be asleep by now. I held the lamp and tiptoed back to my room, trying not to wake anyone.

Or rather, I tried to go back.

“Gasp…!”

Seeing a figure lurking in the dark hallway where no one should be, I almost dropped the lamp. Startled, I raised the lamp with trembling hands. It wasn’t a ghost, but someone who shouldn’t be there.

“Wh-what are you doing here at this late hour?”

It was His Grace, the Duke.

“And what about you? Where are you coming from, so late at night?”

He asked.

“Well, I… I was in Lady Ana’s room.”

“Ana’s room? Why?”

“She asked me to read to her because she couldn’t sleep…”

“Can’t Ana read now? Was it a difficult book that required your interpretation?”

“She probably needed my comfort, not the book. She’s still young.”

The flickering lamplight cast shifting shadows on his face, making it difficult to read his expression. He was a difficult man to read even in broad daylight.

He asked, “Were you this affectionate with other children?”

“Other children?”

“Young Master Mael, for example. Did you read to him at night if he asked?”

By “children,” he meant the students I had tutored.

“He was the same age as the Lady when I first met him, but Young Master Mael was much more mature. And he had both his father and mother with him. So, he never asked me for such things.”

I had also tutored the Viscount’s daughter, but she was cold and arrogant, rarely letting anyone get close. Only Lady Ana acted spoiled and affectionate, as if I were her older sister.

“But the Lady is different. Here…”

I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it, and then fell silent.

“So you read to her, until this hour. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Pardon?”

“You. You’re constantly working overtime. And not long ago, you almost died following Ana on a whim. Children will push boundaries and become overly reliant if you spoil them.”

“…”

“Your job is to be Ana’s teacher, not her nanny. And I’m already satisfied with your performance as a teacher. If you’re unable to refuse Ana’s requests because of your situation, I’ll do it for you.”

His voice was firmer than I expected.

“It’s alright. I did it willingly.”

“Is that so?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Then I’m glad, but your kindness will likely cause you a lot of trouble.”

A moment of silence followed.

“Have you finished writing the letters to your family?”

He was the one who brought up the letters. I felt a sudden release of tension.

‘He’s going to send them!’

I nodded eagerly.

“Yes, yes, I’ve finished them.”

“Then bring them to me tomorrow when you have time. I’m always in my office.”

The Duke turned to leave. The conversation seemed to be over, but I was puzzled. 

Why had he come all the way here, so late at night? 

I doubted it was because my room was on this hallway. It was past everyone’s bedtime, and unless it was by chance, what reason would he have to seek me out?

“But why did you come here, Your Grace?”

“I was taking a walk.”

He said only that and disappeared.

‘A walk? At this hour? In the hallway? Without a lamp?’

Back in my room, I still couldn’t believe his words.

‘Well, it’s late at night, and it’s cold outside… he might walk around the mansion for exercise. As for the lamp… perhaps he has good night vision. It’s his house… it’s possible.’

I tried to rationalize his eccentric behavior and went to sleep. But when I woke up the next morning, I couldn’t distinguish between dream and reality, and I hesitated to go to his office with the letters. But I couldn’t miss this opportunity to send them. This might be my last chance to write to my family.

I went to his office after finishing lessons, carrying the stack of letters I had written every night.

“You’ve come.”

Thankfully, last night hadn’t been a dream. He was sitting at his desk, working, and stood up as soon as I entered.

“I was wondering when you would come. Is that all you’re sending?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“That’s quite a lot.”

“Well, I wrote about this and that… should I shorten them?”

“There’s no need. But… may I read them?”

“Pardon?”

“You’re at the heart of the ducal household. I don’t doubt your loyalty, but you might have inadvertently included sensitive information in your letters.”

That was a valid concern, and I had been mindful of it while writing. Still, I felt my face flush.

‘He could have told me sooner.’

The letters were filled with excessive praise for my new employer and guarantor, the Duke, and his territory. It couldn’t be helped. 

Publicly, the Duke was known as a ruthless and merciless man, and this territory was known as a land of harsh winters. How worried must my mother and sister be, knowing I had been exiled here?

I did my best to allay their fears. I wrote that I had found my usual work here and had adapted well, that the people were kind, that this place was more beautiful and enjoyable than I had expected… and that I owed it all to His Grace’s benevolence. 

As a result, I had perhaps overdone the praise.

‘And what else did I write?’

And now he was going to read them. I handed him the letters, my mind racing, replaying their contents.

The Duke stood there and read through the letters. Thankfully, he read incredibly fast, almost as if he wasn’t actually reading them. It seemed he was only scanning for anything that shouldn’t be sent outside the duchy. He wouldn’t be interested in the actual content of my letters.

“…”

Even so, the letters were long, and it took some time. Each time he turned a page, I couldn’t help but lower my head, feeling like a criminal.

“There’s nothing unusual. I’ll send them as they are. And if the recipients wish to reply, I’ll have them delivered to you. Though I can’t have them waiting too long to write their replies.”

“Really? Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Overjoyed by the unexpected news, I almost shouted. If I had been closer to him, I would have grabbed his hands or even hugged him. Unable to do so, I repeatedly bowed my head. I couldn’t sleep that night, excited at the prospect of hearing from my sister and mother.

‘A fortnight, or perhaps a month, and I’ll receive their replies?’

My heart pounded with anticipation, and I was thrilled by the possibility of being able to send more letters. The mere thought of being able to communicate with my family felt like a ray of hope in the darkness of my exile.

* * *

Meanwhile, Baldr was, as usual, having a sleepless night. The contents of the letters kept replaying in his mind. He hadn’t realized, until he read them, how highly Jeanne regarded him.

‘She must have written those things to reassure her family.’

Of course, Baldr wasn’t a fool. He knew she had written only positive things to avoid worrying her family. But the contents didn’t seem entirely fabricated. Because they included things he knew to be true.

That she had acquired a lovely horse here, that her riding skills had improved, that the student she was tutoring was adorable, that the winters here were indeed cold and dark, but the summers and autumns were warm and beautiful, that she had recently received a bear pelt and had a coat, scarf, and shoes made from it, that they were unique and she wanted to show them to her family, and so on…

Then wouldn’t the compliments she had written about him also be partly true?