The Count's Strange Guest (7)
Ethan then took off his coat and draped it over my shoulders. At such moments he becomes kind again.
– Maid, Vincent shouldn’t live like this. You might not be able to tell from him now, but he is the master of Bellunita County. We may be able to put it off for a while, but eventually word will spread about Vincent, and if he remains in this condition by then, society will be furious. Once the truth becomes known, the nobles will do their best to remove him from governing the county.
- Mister is trying.
- Not enough. He must try even harder, if only to cope with everything on his own. One day he will have to go alone.
The lamp light illuminated Ethan's face. In the dim light, his serious face took on a sad glow.
“Vincent knows.” He knows he can't leave things as they are, but he still turns away. Of course it doesn't have to be that way. Life without change is like stagnant water. Years go by, the world around is changing, and how can he stagnate in one place? Whether he wants it or not, he needs to change because I don't want him to die.
-You are too cruel.
“If Vincent can be forced to change only by harsh methods, then I will use them.” I think he needs someone tough like me, at least for now.
- It's even cute.
Ethan turned his head. I saw the suffering in his trembling eyes.
– You are ready to be the last bastard for the sake of your friend, which means you care about him. That's what's nice.
– For Vincent, I am a blackmailer.
- I think so.
Ethan laughed in relief, as if acknowledging this.
“But you are also his friend.”
- Yes.
“Then I’m sure the lord knows why Sir Christopher did what he did.” Since you are friends, you should be well aware of each other's feelings.
Ethan acted like a bastard, testing Vincent and forcing him to change. Although I would not call this a good deed, there was a sense of sincere concern for the master in this. Watching him, I had a vague idea of what a friend was. A friend is a person whose care you feel without further ado. Ethan showed me this.
I'm sure Vincent also understands that Ethan cares about him. Therefore, he responded to the threat with only a wave of his cane. Even though Ethan's words scared him more than his nightmares.
– To some extent, I agree with your methods. The master cannot live like this forever, and as his servant, I hope he will change.
I fell silent. Do I really hope so? I was hired to look after Vincent, and if he overcomes his current state and changes... Wouldn't I be useless?
I grinned. This is still too far away to talk so boldly about the future.
– Maid, do you think Vincent will change?
- Yes.
-You are too confident.
– I have every reason to be sure of this.
After all, it is changing, even now.
– And if you think about it... I wish I could take back my words.
- What are these?
- About the fact that you are a bastard, because real bastards don’t say that they are bad.
Truly bad people believe that they are right, no matter what happens. The people around me were like that. They all thought they were so good, so wonderful. At the same time, it was completely normal for them to mock others and take advantage of them.
Ethan asked, confused:
-...Why did you change your opinion about me?
- Because the other servants said that you were a very good guy.
He immediately frowned.
– Actually, I consider myself more cool than good.
I shrugged. Ethan's eyes narrowed and he laughed happily. This laugh sounded completely different from his usual one.
– Have you already come up with your wish?
- Wish?
“I promised that I would fulfill one of your wishes if you made Vincent take even a step out of the room.”
Oh yes, that's what it's about. I had already forgotten that I made a bet with him.
- Make any guess, maybe you can’t tell from me, but I’m quite capable. - Ethan said cheerfully. I hesitated for a moment, and then extended my hand to him.
“Then I want you to become my partner.”
– Partnership?
– I mean a relationship in which we will help each other
For some reason I had a feeling that we would see each other again. He's Vincent's friend, so it's likely. If we inevitably collide again, let him be on my side next time. He has an idiosyncratic personality, but he knows a lot about Vincent and, as he says, is quite capable.
Ethan narrowed his eyes and stared at my fingertips. I was still standing with my hand outstretched.
– I want to stay here for a long time, so I need your help.
- Why?
- Because I have nowhere to return to.
-...
Ethan thought for a moment. Then, as if he had made a decision, he nodded and took my hand.
– Mutually beneficial relationship sounds good.
We shook hands to signify the deal. I squeezed his hand tightly, and he squeezed mine in return.
– You have acquired an excellent ally. It is rare to meet such a capable, well-mannered and good-natured person as me.
–...This is a great honor for me.
– You are not speaking very sincerely.
- And you are very insightful.
He laughed again. I let go of his hand and looked out the window. The moon shining in the dark was so beautiful today.
The next day Isabella and I saw off Ethan as he left the county. Vincent, of course, didn't come. Ethan was wearing a hat, just like the day we met. He greeted Isabella briefly and came up to me.
- Sorry for causing you so much trouble.
- Everything is fine.
I wanted to scold him for deliberately delivering them, but I restrained myself. Ethan smiled apologetically, as if he knew how I felt.
“You’ve been so kind to me, so I’ll have to come more often.”
Tricky to the very end. I waved my hand at him, shooing him away while Isabella wasn’t looking. Ethan laughed briefly in response.
At this point we say goodbye, and, watching him get into the car, I suddenly remember a question that I have long wanted to ask. I quickly approached him.
- Sorry, Sir Christopher.
He looked back at me as he climbed into the car.
– Do you often write letters to my master?
- Letters?
- Yes.
– Well, lately, of course, I’ve been sending them a little more often...
- Oh, then...
I paused for a moment and continued:
-Did you write them in gold ink?
-...
Ethan blinked. His silence made me swallow dryly. Is he really the person I was corresponding with?
“The buds have already bloomed on the branches.”
I remembered his words the other day, and although he said them in passing, they stuck with me because I once wrote almost the same words in response to a letter. There was nothing special about it, but after his arrival the letters with golden letters stopped coming. And I thought: “What if...”
But he shook his head.
- No, I wrote in black.
-Are you sure?
- Yes.
He was adamant. I involuntarily showed my disappointment.
- That's how it is.
- Did something happen?
- No. Nothing.
I shook my head. Ethan gave me a questioning look, but I tried to dodge him. Finally, he smiled impassively and got into his car.
As I watched the car drive away, I turned my head and saw Vincent standing at the window on the top floor of the mansion. But he immediately closed the curtains. I stared at the window for a moment and then turned away.
However, shortly after this, Ethan arrived at the mansion with another guest.
* * *
Again the letter arrived, written in gold ink, this time along with a small tin can. There were tea leaves in it.
“What a pleasant smell.”
I thought that the gentleman would like them, so with Isabella’s permission, I made tea and brought it to Vincent.
– This is black tea that is sold in Novella.
- How do you know?
The jar of tea leaves had "Novel" written on it, and I was surprised that he recognized it immediately. Vincent took a sip of his tea.
– I always liked this tea. Where did you get it?
– It came as a gift.
- It's clear.
He must have really liked the tea because he sipped it over the edge of the cup over and over again. This is a really good gift. As I poured tea into an empty mug, I thought: “In the future, I will bring it to the master when he grumbles.” You will need to thank the sender in your response letter.
“Next time you better hit me.” This way there will be less harm.
I looked at the hole in the glass, which had still not been replaced after the incident with the cane. He breaks something every time. However, Vincent didn't care and continued to leisurely drink his tea.
– Don't worry about it. Just next time Ethan comes, don't let him in and kick him out. Or ask someone else to do it.
- What?
It was a sharp order. The expression on his face was so impassive that I doubted whether I had heard it wrong.
- Why? You still don't want Christopher to come?
- No.
I immediately received an answer to my frivolous question. But what the hell? Ethan, of course, threatened him, but until yesterday they wrote letters to each other. They're best friends, so why does he hate him so much? Vincent doesn't even have to hide his condition in front of him.
As if there is any reason for hatred.
As if sensing my question, he spoke:
“It's not that I hate Ethan.
- Then what?
– I hate his family.
“You mean the Christopher family?” Do you have a reason for this?
He set down his cup with a clatter and then handed it to me. I took the cup and froze. The gentleman sat down on the bed, wrapping himself in the sheets again. His eyes were not visible through his tousled golden hair.
- Mister?
- Nothing special.
-...
“His family made me this way.”
The shocking confession sounded so casual.