* * *
Arriving at the study, Locke knocked lightly and opened the door upon being told to enter.
Ciel, who was sitting at her desk, looked up slightly.
Today, as usual, she was reading a classic literature book.
Cedric’s sister, Ciel, had possessed an extraordinary love for history since she was a child.
To give you an idea of the scale, by the age of six, she had already meticulously planned to leave home to become an archaeologist.
Her passion had only deepened with age, and her study was always filled with thick volumes.
“The Lockesi merchant must have visited?”
Whenever goods arrived at the mansion, all the books were claimed by Ciel—except for the trashy novels Cedric occasionally stole.
Her eyes sparkled specifically at folk tales or legends she hadn’t seen before; she loved digging deep into stories.
Because of this, she always prioritized the “topic” even in conversations with people.
“Yes. Where should I put the box?”
“Anywhere.”
The bookshelves surrounding the walls of the room were already packed.
Even beneath them, unorganized books were piled high. Locke had no choice but to set the box down in an empty spot.
As he turned to leave, Ciel suddenly spoke to him.
“I heard that among the books that came in today, there’s one containing the legend of Erebos. Have you ever heard of that tale?”
“I have not.”
“I heard it’s a famous story in the Parlos marketplace. A very mournful romance. You’re from Parlos, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“It’s a story about a knight who joined hands with a great destruction called Ragnarok to save a woman captured by the enemy. Recently, evidence emerged that it’s a true story, not a legend. It caught my interest, so if you’ve heard even a minor detail about it, let me know.”
“I do not know it.”
His answer was firm, without a moment’s hesitation.
However, Ciel did not give up easily, thinking he must have at least heard it in passing.
“A thousand years ago, on some northwestern continent, there was a very famous mercenary named Baum. They say he was called the Black Ghost because he always wore black armor while cutting down the enemy. He had a beloved fiancée, but because the war dragged on, he hadn’t seen her for a while. Unfortunately, the tide of battle turned, and his fiancée was kidnapped by the enemy. Since he wasn’t a noble, how could he have mobilized an army to save her? They say he had no choice but to cross mountains and rivers to the territory where ‘Destruction’ lived to strike a deal.”
“Ah…”
Locke responded listlessly.
“You’ve never heard a similar story?”
“Never.”
“Then, what about any tales or legends you heard while wandering the marketplace?”
“Back then, I was too busy surviving day to day. I didn’t have the luxury to listen to such stories.”
“How did Cedric spend a whole year with you? You’re so blunt and no fun at all.”
“I didn’t have time to converse with the Young Master. Aside from medicine and meal times, he gave me freedom. During the rest of the time, I helped with other chores.”
One person was stuck in his room alone because of illness, and the other was too busy earning a living to care about his surroundings.
What kind of conversation topics could there be between two such people?
Ciel felt the suspicion she had been harboring in her heart fade away a little.
“This is clearly different from Cassian’s story about the two of you being inseparable and developing feelings. I can see who was lying. So, what is your interest now? Your living situation has improved, hasn’t it?”
Locke, who had been answering Ciel’s questions indifferently, suddenly seemed to recall something.
With a slightly interested expression, he spoke.
“Recently, I’ve been observing a pine bunting that happened to fly in.”
When his expressionless, blunt mouth curved into a faint arc, Ciel blinked with an interested look.
She leaned back comfortably in her chair and crossed her arms, telling him to continue.
However, Locke ended the conversation right there, saying that was all.
The brief smile vanished instantly.
In the end, Ciel completely discarded even the small amount of suspicion that remained.
Forget an interesting conversation—no one would want to date a guy like that who extinguished interest the moment it flared up.
It’s a lost cause. Cassian’s claim that Locke and Cedric had feelings for each other was definitely wrong.
There was no way such a blunt man, who couldn’t even keep a conversation going, could be in a relationship.
Thinking his personality was quite unsuitable for a personal servant, Ciel decided she should send him to a different area soon.
“That’s enough for today. I think I understand why Cedric gave you free time. I’ll call you if I need something, so until then, help with the mansion chores or chop firewood as you please. You may leave.”
With a short bow, Locke left the room without a hint of regret.
…Thanks to being completely out of her interest, Locke’s daily life didn’t change much from before.
Even if his master gave him free time, a low-ranking servant like him couldn’t just rest.
His day would end before he knew it while running errands or helping out where labor was short.
The only time he was free from the interference of others was lunch, but even that had been snatched by Cedric since he became Ciel’s servant, making it impossible for him to be alone.
It must have been about two days since he last ran into Cedric.
Whatever he was thinking, Cedric followed him around, pretending to be surprised with an “Oh?” every time they bumped into each other, acting as if their meeting were a mere coincidence.
Then, like a young master with too much time on his hands, he would sit beside him and chatter away as if reporting on his daily life.
‘Hah, this is driving me crazy.’
He had something he needed to find in this mansion.
Therefore, Cedric, who followed him everywhere, was a bothersome nuisance.
Yet, he couldn’t just ignore him and walk away.
If he did, Cedric would follow even more persistently than usual, asking what he had done wrong this time.
To avoid Cedric, Locke finished his lunch quickly today, barely eating.
Feigning rest, he tucked a book under his arm and began exploring the Count’s vast garden.
But it was short-lived.
It didn’t take long for him to be spotted by Cedric.
‘Does he do nothing but look out the window all day?’ Locke clicked his tongue inwardly.
He had no choice but to sit on the hill and act as if he had come into the woods to read.
“Locke! We met again! Wow, what a coincidence!”
What reason would a sickly young master, who spent most of his life in his room, have to enter a dense forest?
It was nonsense, but Cedric shamelessly claimed it was a coincidence and took a seat next to Locke.
As Locke listlessly accepted Cedric’s non-stop chatter, it suddenly felt amusing.
The way Cedric chirped incessantly despite getting no attention reminded Locke of a male bird singing until it found a mate.
Specifically, the small lips that moved without rest brought to mind the bird’s tiny beak.
“So, I said the soup was too thin, and when Anna tried to add pepper, the lid fell right into the plate! It was so funny. But since the Marchioness was there, everyone had to hold back their laughter, and ha-ha, it was so obvious. If you had seen their faces, you would’ve found it hard not to laugh too. Oh, right—you don’t laugh much. Ah! And the other day…”
Locke sat there for a while, having forgotten his original purpose and the fact that he found the boy annoying, quietly observing the “pine bunting” that had flown his way.
When Anna told me that goods from the trade guild managed by my father had arrived, I ran there first and claimed the biscuits, a specialty of Cartelgia.
Then, as if someone might steal them, I hurried back to my room, flung the window open, and scanned the garden.
My eyes were stinging from how much I’d been rolling them around.
‘Hmm, he should be visible around this time…’
It was then.
Even from a distance, a tall man with prominent broad shoulders was crossing the garden where hydrangeas were in full bloom, a book tucked under his arm.
I could tell who it was at a single glance just by his back.
‘Found you!’
I grabbed the biscuits and was about to run out when I hesitated.
I looked into the full-length mirror standing nearby.
My poet shirt, which had become too big because of my weight loss, was slipping down my shoulder.
I stood up straight, adjusted my clothes, and draped a shawl to hide my bony shoulders.
It was summer, but I’d rather endure the heat than hear him point out that I seemed to have lost more weight.
I wore nice clothes and groomed my body and hair with fragrant oils every day to hide my flaws.
Even so, my gaunt face looked like a skull.
I puffed out my cheeks and pulled my facial muscles as hard as I could to smile.
“It looks grotesque.”
I immediately stopped smiling.
“Locke!”
In the middle of the lush garden stood a white iron pergola.
I shouted with all my might toward the man sitting there with his reliable back turned to me.
He must have been resting his chin on his hand; he straightened his posture and slowly turned his head.
The sunlight, filtering through the branches of the crape myrtles that embraced the white iron cage, cautiously caressed his face.
Like black ink flowing over paper, his hair spilled down softly.
His broad shoulders rose and fell once in a deep breath, as if he were sighing.
“That…”
Faced with his quiet gaze, I suddenly found it difficult to approach him, so I just fumbled with the biscuit box.
It seemed he still didn’t feel like we were friends; he showed no sign of welcome even though we met every day.
Rather, he was just cold, as if I were a nuisance.
Today was the same.
As I hesitated, unable to step forward, Locke spoke in a calm voice.
“What has happened today?”
Only after he spoke first did I find the courage to approach.
I showed him the box in my hand.
“You promised back then. That we’d eat biscuits together!”
When I beamed at him, Locke shifted to make room beside him.
I quickly stepped up and squeezed my bottom into the gap.
Curious about what he was reading, I caught a glimpse of the book title in his hand.
However, there was nothing written on the thick, black hard cover—only a gold foil pattern.
It was a book I had never seen before.
* * *
