Chapter 56
Oh dear, why is this guy acting like this?
"You already know. Lady Toten just wants her child to live a little longer, but how could a dead person come back to life without putting another soul in the body?"
Melek was a similar case, a ghost possessing a dead body.
Realizing there was no solution, Gabriel lowered his head in regret. His blue eyes wavered as if he might cry any moment. Crying over something like this? Cut it out! And as expected of the male lead, Gabriel held back his tears well.
"I see. Lady Toten probably won't come to the temple again."
Gabriel stated with conviction.
"Because God has abandoned her faith."
For a holy knight, that was incredibly irreverent. Gabriel looks so kind-hearted, yet he can be quite cold sometimes? He's soft around me, though... Is this a side effect of the male lead character who's only warm to his woman?
"I heard Lady Toten made a backroom deal?"
He's not regretting losing a premium customer, is he? I suspected because Gabriel's the type warm only to his woman.
"Yes. I provided Holy Water to Lady Toten."
So it was a real illicit deal?
Of course not. Gabriel explained in detail from the beginning how it happened. He even added explanations midway for someone ignorant like me.
"People say those like Viscount Toten, unresponsive to Holy Water, have been abandoned by God. Or that they've been cursed."
Rahel wasn't a god equal to all things. Where sunlight shines, shadows inevitably form. Being unresponsive to Holy Water likely corresponds to the darkest part.
Even death row inmates receive mercy, so being unresponsive to Holy Water warrants being called cursed. Some say the soul has corrupted, refusing God's embrace.
In truth, it's just rumors floating around. Gabriel said Holy Water is originally a healing medicine, so if born frail, it wouldn't work. Evangeline was that case too.
Lady Toten was originally devout, visiting the temple often. After a difficult birth wrecked her body, Holy Water helped her recover, making her even more devoted.
"But Holy Water had no effect on the viscount."
The child was born prematurely and frail. Lady Toten thought since it worked for her, it would for the child too, so she fed him Holy Water. One bottle didn't work, so two, then three. She bought countless vials until rumors spread.
"They said the viscount was cursed."
The temple, mindful of the rumors, prohibited supplying Holy Water to Lady Toten. She knelt before Gabriel, whom she knew.
"I couldn't ignore her plea for help."
That's where the deal came in. Gabriel provided Holy Water to Lady Toten, and she donated the equivalent amount. It was a behind-the-scenes arrangement that satisfied both consciences appropriately. She truly owed him a favor since she couldn't obtain it otherwise.
That's why Lady Toten readily agreed to be my chaperone out of the blue.
"We should find another chaperone."
"Isn't it too urgent?"
"Lady Toten should spend the remaining time with the viscount."
Gabriel decided to find another chaperone. With only two days left, would anyone take it? Maybe delay the debutante a bit. I'm not officially debuting at the audience ceremony anyway; I'm sneaking in with a crown prince invitation.
"Alright."
Following Gabriel's lead, I grew depressed too.
A child dying is tragic, but I couldn't do anything specific. If I knew the original story, I might find a clue, but even with my guesswork from child-rearing experience, I'm powerless here.
I'd help as much as I could, like with Daisy's kids, but….
"If my connections fall short, I'll ask Duke Bael to chaperone."
"Duke Bael?"
"Yes. Lady Raphaella's mother."
Suddenly summoning a duke startled me, and it's Raphaella's mom. I nearly gaped. She looks refined like a young master, but a duke's son? Higher status than me? Is Gabriel secretly a duke too? Orphanage-raised, but turns out the late emperor's child or something.
But if he had such great connections, why not approach her before Lady Toten? Did she refuse to chaperone Evangeline?
"Raphaella cut ties upon becoming a knight, so it's difficult, but the duke cherishes Sir Raphaella."
Ah. So she's the last resort. Raphaella... didn't seem the type, but she's quite rebellious.
"Then may I ask why Lady Rohanson summoned me?"
Ah. Finally, the main point. Why did I call Gabriel? Obviously for dance practice. No need if delaying debutante, but Gabriel seems unwilling to postpone even as a backup.
"I need a dance partner."
"I heard you hired a teacher."
"She fled after barely holding out, leaving only Dolliné."
Mentioning Dolliné made Gabriel frown in displeasure. Recently, he suddenly investigated her, saying she's a drug addict and suggesting I fire her. I thought Gabriel had evolved into a possessive male lead cutting off all my connections.
Asking Dolliné, she said drugs were a brief temptation, swears off them now, loves Rohanson Mansion too much, begged tearfully not to fire her. Insane loyalty.
Her remorse was so genuine I overlooked the past folly. It's a novel world anyway; a little drug use is fine.
Gabriel didn't oppose keeping Dolliné but still seemed displeased.
"So you must be my partner."
Standing and offering my hand, Gabriel hesitated slightly. I recalled the tutor who fled refusing to hold my hand. Does holding my hand kill you? No, Gabriel, you've held it once or twice already!
"Don't you want to?"
"Of course not."
At my petulant tone, Gabriel urgently clasped my hand.
"It's a great honor."
Gabriel rose, led by my hand. His gaze shot up, our bodies drew close. Breaths mingled, eyes met. I saw his long lashes tremble faintly.
Standing pressed together hand-in-hand, rapid footsteps sounded outside. Mary? Only she runs like that in the mansion. But heavier steps? The door burst open as I thought it.
"My lady! The dress is complete…!"
It was Misha. She'd holed up making the dress for days and finished already.
"Sorry, so sorry! Enjoy your time!"
Bam!
Misha, face flushed, shut the door. Gabriel stiffened awkwardly, caught in a secret rendezvous. Wow, timing straight out of a novel. Well, it is a novel.
"Schmitiana?"
What perfect timing. The position looks incriminating, but we're just dancing!
How to explain? Gabriel's my partner anyway—no need. Racking my brain, another knock came.
"My lady, it's Misha."
Not fleeing?
"Misha."
Calling her name, Misha peeked sheepishly, scratching her cheek.
"Sir Gabriel was my dance partner."
"Yes! I believe you!"
I explained quickly, but Misha smiled perfunctorily, clearly disbelieving.
With Daisy sent out for Gabriel's important talk, only us two remained, making it more awkward. Suddenly, we're lovers shooing the maid for a tryst.
Think positively... I was flirting with Gabriel anyway—not bad. First, divert Misha.
"What is it?"
"Haha. Well, since you're already together, could you try on the dress while together? I want to see the picture!"
She fled embarrassed but returned for the dress. Misha's dress passion runs deep.
"Of course. Sir, could you wait a moment?"
"Yes. It'll help you get used to it while wearing the dress too."
With Gabriel's cooperation, I followed Misha, but he wouldn't release my hand.
"Sir Gabriel?"
"Ah, sorry… my apologies."
Gabriel seemed unaware of his action too. He released hastily, covering his flushed face shyly. His ears peeked red. Yeah, classic. Give him time alone till the blush fades.
Misha grinned delightedly at Gabriel, then led me out.
"Don't be too shocked at how pretty you look at first sight, okay?"
Stopping before the room I lent Misha, her cutters and seamstresses clustered outside. Why wait outside?
"It's your first time seeing the completed dress!"
Ah. Misha stationed them outside. Drumroll. Misha mimed before opening.
"Ta-da!"
Door opened, dress in full view. Misha's eyes sparkled expectantly, but I was too stunned to speak.
Isn't this a wedding dress? White, flowing, long train—perfect wedding dress. Add a veil, done.
"What do you think? Like it, my lady?"
Misha chattered about inspirations, details, especially 'Your shoulders are so pretty, so I opened them up…' explaining her focus on my features.
I tried listening, but zero interest in clothes—my impression was just 'You worked hard.' Can't show that to someone who slaved over my dress.
I hugged Misha tightly.
"M-M-My lady?"
Misha trembled like aspen leaves. Stroking her back slowly to relax her.
"Great job, Misha. I love it. Thanks for the best result despite the tight deadline."
"Thanks? From you to me?"
Hugging once more and releasing, Misha staggered. Face flushed like receiving a grand gift.
"My lady."
"Yes?"
"You're too much…."
She buried her face in her hands, muttering oddly. Thought I was skimping with words instead of bonus? Promised generous bonus, she beamed.
Grinning ear-to-ear for ages, Misha composed and helped me dress.
Tried it during fitting, but completion differed vastly. Wearing revealed its true worth, unlike just viewing.
"This is truly a masterpiece… Everyone agrees, right?"
Misha sighed rapturously, polling staff. Once head-down in fear of Evangeline, they chimed desperately.
"Yes! It should go in history books!"
"Y-Yes…! Standing still at the ball, they'll think it's a jeweler's craft!"
"Genius! You've upended society! Of course, Lady Rohanson's a genius too!"
Genius for what? Face genius? Misha's staff teared up, clapping. Thought Misha sweet, but she bosses too? Spot-on sycophancy for the boss.
"Movement comfortable?"
"Fine."
"Then let's show Sir Gabriel!"
Misha declared solemnly. I nodded, caught up. Gabriel's dense but likes Evangeline's face—should land well.
Romanta-sy needs this event. Dowdy usual look dolled up captivates. Not that I'm dowdy—Misha said original and great.
Misha orbited me en route back, showering praise.
Flattery continued before Gabriel. He didn't gape cartoonishly, irking Misha.
No big show, but his pupil earthquake showed huge impact? Sadly, not enough for Misha. She demanded more.
"Sir Gabriel, how's the lady?"
"It suits her well."
"No, praise more lavishly!"
"Like an angel!"
"Yes! Mary did great!"
Mary, hearing from maids I was trying the dress, dashed in occupying spot by Gabriel.
Daisy apologized shamefacedly—tried stopping, but Gabriel allowed. Mary's second-sunshine after Kanna. Future sunshine heroine vibe.
"Like a fairy!"
"Right!"
Mary spewed flattery endlessly. Mary praising, Misha clapping for more—like kowtowing, wanna flee.
"Now, sir! Know what to say?"
After one-dimensional examples, Misha set the stage. Normally breeds rebellion.
Gabriel pondered, finding satisfying phrase.
"Lady Rohanson is like the brightest star."
"Good."
Same level as Mary's examples. Misha, blocking Mary's ears expectantly, nodded satisfied.
Satisfied? Consider my kowtowing heart... Gazing lingeringly at Misha, she startled—misread eyes?—hugging Mary.
"Mary, let's go."
"Already?"
Mary hesitated; Misha whispered. Tempting offer—Mary nodded vigorously.
Before leaving, Mary bowed to me.
"Thanks for Mary's clothes, my lady."
She dangled the kids' clothes request. Starting now my dress done.
Why thank me? Not made yet, Misha makes them? I'm the money? Instant agreement. Yeah, money matters.
Misha beamed despite credit stolen. So innocently, how does she survive?
"Now, Daisy too—measurements! Come on!"
"Me? But I must attend my lady? I'll wait outside at least."
"No! It's my lady's order! Sir Gabriel's here—what worry?"
Misha dragged Daisy too. Daisy eyed me seeking permission; I nodded. Daisy resigned, pulled away.
Staring at empty door post-three-exit, eyes met Gabriel's. Awkward, but laughter bubbled.
"Shall we dance one song?"
Unlike my prior hand-offer pre-change, Gabriel leaned forward first, offering hand. Properly dressed, minding etiquette.
"One won't suffice."
Tons of dances. Must try each once.
"I'll match you as needed."
Clasping hands, Gabriel inhaled sharply. Nervous? Kissed hand shamelessly before.
Actually first grip excluding farewell. Thinking inevitable kiss next, slight flush rose.
Gabriel's hand too hot quelled it fast. Why so warm? Warm heart warms hands?
Gabriel expert in dance too, hand to waist, posture set skillfully.
No audible accompaniment, but started. Followed his lead stepping.
Misha wanted us together in dress but fled quick. Just wanted Gabriel praising me?
"Misha didn't need to leave."
Just dancing, not illicit. Gabriel said her consideration.
"Schmitiana seems to think specially of you."
"For allowing 'Misha'?"
"Yes. Nickname too—she's selective with clients. Troubled bringing her here initially."
True. First shrieked no human skin—Gabriel forced her. Selective? More criminal-avoidant?
Her bossing staff and artisan spirit suggests picky clients. Gabriel eyed firmly shut door post-Misha.
"Stricter eye than expected. Easy commissioning maids' clothes too? Not."
Strict? Seemed romanta-sy fanatic pink-aura obsessed. Dense too. Weak to Evangeline's face.
Chatting lightly, dance continued. Theory mastery avoided stepping on toes.
Song ended, bowed. Formal ball changes partners per song, but private—so continued next sans switch.
Greeting closed distance again. Lukewarm-now warmth softly encircled waist.
Next genre? Still unfamiliar sequence unlike me; Gabriel focused wholly on me.
Light chat while dancing is etiquette. Where left off? Ah, Misha making servants' clothes.
"Misha's fulfilling paid value."
"No. Schmitiana won't budge sans inspiration despite pay. You're her exception."
Ah. This waltz. No music hard to distinguish. Memorized Gabriel's moves instead.
Gabriel steps left, right moves turning left. Left again, Gabriel eyes me.
"Seems so when eyes hold you."
Gabriel gazed oddly. My reflection: flawlessly clear blue. Thought perpetual cloudless sky; mirroring me, untainted water surface.
"My beliefs, philosophy, ideals—all built from bottom feel futile."
About Misha? No, Gabriel himself. Why sudden mood? Heart itched—romanta-sy allergy?
Gabriel continued, blind to my bewilderment.
"You shatter my world, rebuilding it whimsically from scratch."
Spinning, dress hem swirled low embracing body. Gabriel, helpless as facing natural disaster, said likewise.
World-shaking being—sounds ardent love confession.
"Sounds like a confession."
Teasing, but Gabriel didn't deny. Confession? That?
I knew Gabriel likes me; for avoiding execution or bad ends, male lead Gabriel end ideal.
But shoved abruptly, head spun. Nauseous.
Sudden emotion bred unease. Novel-event thrill plummeted, steps heavy.
"You like me?"
To me, Gabriel's words self-deprecation, not love. Docile downcast eyes: less rapture, more guilt-crushed pathos.
If sweetly romantic whispers, wouldn't feel this wretched. Flat paper-love, mere role-fulfillment.
This: ghost from monitor reaching out eerily. Book pages writhe—ink ants sprout limbs crawling to me vividly grotesque.
Loving not setting-Evangeline, but really me?
"Without knowing who I am?"
I locked eyes deeply with Gabriel. Glass-reflected: Evangeline's face. He knows only possessor fact. Likely his tormented confession stems thence. But true heart? Not setting? Not Evangeline's looks?
Gabriel stiffened, dance slowed. I led now.
Gabriel couldn't answer. Lips tight, gaze fleeing. Wanted escape yet honor-bound to dance—quintessential rigid Gabriel.
No answer? Relieved.
Right? You think it's weird too? Mind calmed.
"Sir Gabriel, just match me appropriately."
No heavy sincerity sought. Prefer avoid.
Pairing with Gabriel for his protection, dodging potential fates.
Gabriel need only that. Like Evangeline, request partner/help as needed.
Did I push too hard? Gabriel paled unusually. Looked he'd die, not Evangeline.
"Shall we stop?"
More and he'd collapse. Just two songs, but following well means others fine.
Not nonstop anyway—sufficient.
Ah. Meant to tighten flirt leash today! Forgot purpose, walled too hard? Over-immersed.
From Gabriel's view: prepping confession, thum-girl bats away 'Not yet'? Confusing—speechless?
"I rather like you."
Waltz seemingly eternal ended; curtsied whispering. Can't fully salvage, but better said. Not pure fishing without lip-service.
Gabriel surely likes Evangeline's face—forced smile. Unused muscles awkward... corner twitched.
Glanced mirror: murderous grin, not pretty—lowered hastily. No acting talent indeed.
