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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: My Little Fawn
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When I gave him a bright smile, Eric hesitated before pulling me into another hug, unable to refuse me in front of the servants.
“How on earth did you do it?”
“…That’s a trade secret…”
Our short, second hug ended as I whispered. I watched Eric pull away, feeling a sense of emptiness.
Aw, what a shame. Hugs are nicer than I thought. If I’d known, I would have somehow negotiated for hugs in addition to holding hands.
Just as I was having this wicked thought, Eric pointed to the two wooden boxes Lily was holding.
“What are these?”
“One is from Madam Helena Wedgwood, and the other is…”
My eyes widened.
Ah, that’s…!
The gift I received from Margaret earlier…
*‘No, really, giving someone a picture of their own husband…’*
I had muttered to myself while looking at the picture of Eric in the secret compartment.
*‘Would you like one?’*
*‘Pardon? You have another one?’*
Ugh, why did I have to ask if she had another one?
Before I could even scold myself, Margaret was already pulling out another photo.
*‘To be honest, I have a few I took secretly. There’s even one of him shirtless during training, interested?’*
*‘Oh, well, that’s a bit…’*
“…N-No! You can’t!”
I scrambled over and blocked the other box Eric’s hand was reaching for.
Eric’s face contorted as I spread my arms to stop him, but I had no choice. Because—
*‘Then I’ll take this one.’*
Damn it. There was no way I could let him see the photo Margaret gave me!
“…!”
Naturally, my attempt to block the box only made Eric more determined to see what was inside. He took it from Lily.
Lily, whose loyalty to me was nonexistent, handed it over to him without a second thought.
The moment he tried to open it, I quickly whispered in his ear.
“That’s…”
What could I say to stop this man from opening it?
My mind raced.
“…Underwear. It’s underwear!”
*Crash!* With a speed that surpassed even my expectations, he threw it to the floor.
“Ah, no, you didn’t have to throw it…”
It’s not like I said it was a rotting corpse!
*The frame must be broken!*
While I sadly picked up the box, Eric, his face flushed, cleared his throat and walked over to the other one.
“Th-This one is from M-Madam Helena? What did she put inside?”
He didn’t have to stutter…
Worried that the frame inside might be shattered, I held the box dearly and answered nonchalantly.
“It’s for insomnia… some… al…”
Ah, I almost said alcohol. And me, a supposedly pregnant woman.
I forced an awkward smile for the servants watching us and corrected myself.
“Tea. She said it’s tea.”
“Do you have insomnia?”
“Sometimes, when I sleep in a new place…”
“…You seemed to sleep perfectly fine for someone like that…”
Eric muttered, his voice somehow sullen, then asked me something as if it were bothering him.
“Did Madam Helena say anything else?”
“Anything else…?”
I looked at Eric’s worried profile and thought, *Ah, is he concerned because we fought?*
I shook my head. Eric nodded, then pulled an invitation from his coat.
“In any case, it’s good that you were invited to the art salon. I also received an invitation…”
I took the invitation Eric offered with a bright face.
Ooh, who else wants to grace their party with my presence…
But the moment I saw the seal on the invitation, my expression froze.
Eric, watching my face, whispered in my ear.
“I know how you feel, but the servants are watching, so don’t say it out loud.”
I glared at Eric.
The invitation I held was stamped with the princess’s crest.
*‘Of all the social gatherings, why the princess’s birthday party?!’*
But why else? No one else would dare invite us, and that delinquent princess has a keen interest in us.
“Can’t we just not go? Seriously, after being kidnapped and confined last time, I feel nauseous just thinking about going near the princess’s palace…”
“You’ll have to go even if you throw up everything you’ve eaten, won’t you…? Madam Margaret will be there as well.”
Eric glanced at the servants, then gently swept my hair back and smiled affectionately.
“My… dear? I should go upstairs and change.”
Though I was grinding my teeth on the inside, I managed to smile back at Eric.
“Hohoho, of course you should.”
Eric continued his awkward act as he went upstairs. I was about to follow him when my eyes fell on the box Lily was holding.
The one from my mother.
I fiddled with the envelope in my pocket.
*What are Philip and Helena planning to do about their debt? Why did they return this money?*
*‘They’re not planning to cause some trouble, are they?’*
This feels ominous, very ominous.
I was about to follow Eric upstairs with an uneasy feeling when the butler called out to me.
“Young Madam?”
“Yes? What is it? Ah… don’t tell me you’re about to say something tiresome like how sorry you are for not recognizing the greatness of this Young Madam who so readily procures invitations and audits ledgers…”
“…That is not it, of course.”
The butler shook his head, his voice as gentlemanly as ever.
*Hmph. Then what is it?*
I gave the butler a slight glare and said, “Then why did you call me?”
He replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why, you ask? You’re attending the art salon, are you not? Then you must study art!”
Huh?
Wait! Waiiiit!
Just as I was about to desperately refuse the idea of ‘studying,’ the butler, as if he had prepared for this, gave a wicked smile and asked Lily.
“Lily? You were with her all day. In your opinion, does our Young Madam have a deep appreciation for art?”
I looked at Lily with pleading eyes.
Lily knows, doesn’t she? That our marriage is a sham! That I don’t need to try this hard!
In fact, now that I’ve stopped my mother’s marriage, my goal is pretty much accomplished…!
“Not at all.”
Lily’s answer was crisp.
Then, as if a thought suddenly struck her, she looked straight at me and added.
“Ah, in fact, at the Beaufort estate, she called a painting from the New Somaticist school ‘nude art’ and caused quite a scene…”
I saw it.
You… that subtle smile at the end of your sentence… I saw it!
But before my fury could erupt, the butler made his move.
“My, my. It seems we must start with the artistic movements, Young Madam.”
He looked at me as if to ask if I wanted to suffer such humiliation again.
He seemed rather triumphant. It was an arrogance I could never have imagined when I brought him the accounting ledgers.
*‘…You treacherous man!’*
✵ ✵ ✵
That night.
Imeline was the first in the mansion to fall asleep.
*‘It must have been a long day.’*
Eric looked down at the sleeping Imeline in the master bedroom and let out a dry laugh. It was because of the butler’s report on her heroic exploits of the day.
*‘Today, the Young Madam called Sir Oscar a bald old man…!’*
*‘The three of them were rendered completely speechless.’*
*‘On top of that, she brought back the accounting ledgers, so none of the servants in the household can look down on Lady Imeline anymore…’*
The butler must have wanted Imeline to secure the ledgers partly because the servants had been subtly disrespecting her. Real power within a household came from controlling its finances.
*‘And she even obtained an invitation from Madam Margaret…!’*
Eric recalled the butler’s proud face.
*‘You have truly made a fine marriage. I was so worried when the Young Lord seemed to have lost all interest in such things after the late Madam passed away…’*
The butler had cut himself off, slapping his own mouth as his eyes went wide. He must have thought he had stirred Eric’s grief.
Eric looked at the butler’s kind face and recalled the things he used to say about his mother.
*Never go to the annex. Do not make contact with the Madam.*
*‘…He said those things for my sake.’*
Eric had never doubted the butler’s good intentions. Around the age of fourteen, the butler had been more of a father to him than his own father.
And yet, whenever the butler spoke of his mother, a corner of his heart ached. If only he had believed his mother back then—
*‘What nonsense is that! This is why I hate nice people!’*
*‘The bad guys are the ones who did everything wrong, so why do only the good guys feel guilty? Good people think everything in the world is their fault. What is that, if not arrogance?’*
…But Imeline’s words soon came to cover that aching heart.
Eric chuckled dryly.
He looked down at Imeline for a long time, unable to wipe the smile from his face.
*I find you amusing.*
*You say such things to me, yet you can’t bring yourself to abandon your sense of responsibility for your own family. I find you so amusing.*
*‘Oh, right. And Lady Imeline also discovered errors in the ledgers and pointed out every single one. The tenants’ taxes will be used properly again!’*
Eric recalled the butler’s addendum.
*You, who always looks so scared, yet are never a coward.*
*I find you amusing.*
Eric’s smile faded as he shook his head. In any case, it was clear he wouldn’t be sleeping in this room tonight either—
Eric pulled the accounting ledgers he’d received from the butler out from his coat and went to sit by the window. He could hear Imeline talking in her sleep.
“…Ugh… if I just look a little longer… I think I can see it…”
He had no idea what she was on about today, but she was certainly a woman who dreamed well.
With that thought, Eric began to scan the ledgers.
He was hoping to find any financial documents related to Blue Oak.
Of course, even after he had gone through the enormous volume of documents, even as the morning sun began to rise and Imeline started to stir, not a single number related to Blue Oak had appeared.
*‘These are documents managed separately by Oscar, so of course not.’*
Eric thought as he watched the sun rise through the window. When Imeline began to fidget, he rose from his seat out of habit.
He walked out onto the balcony and thought.
*‘…Another night spent wide awake.’*
It was then that a familiar wooden box in the corner of the balcony caught his eye. Eric crouched down in front of it.
*Underwear, she said? Who leaves their underwear outside?*
He picked it up, intending to put it back in the room.
But the moment his hand touched it, something inside fell out and landed at his feet with a soft thud. She must have opened it and just carelessly placed it upside down.
“…?”
Eric looked down at the object that had fallen. It was a picture frame. On the back, the words ‘My Little Fawn’ were written. Eric grimaced and picked it up.
The front of the frame was revealed.
Eric’s expression became peculiar.
Inside the frame was him.
Eric Orleans.
In the picture, Eric was dressed in a neat suit, drinking coffee.
“Ha…”
Eric let the hand holding the frame fall to his side and pressed his other hand to his forehead.
He had a good idea where Imeline had gotten this photo. Eric’s head was bowed low, but his ears were burning red.
