Chapter 49

Deatrice assumed that her father would be against it, but only at first. After all, Lucius’ family wasn’t that bad.

She held onto that belief and thought to try something.

That day was one of those days when she truly believed that she would get to marry him, and this engagement was only proof of that.

She didn’t know how it started, but slowly, they started telling each other more things about themselves, but it wasn’t anything too grand.

Like how Lucius told her that he could hold his breath for a long time and then went silent without saying anything. When she noticed his chest wasn’t moving after a long time, she became terrified.

What if he dies?

She knew it was a heedless worry, but that was a time when she was afraid that even a single needle might hurt her lover.

With a serious and weeping face, she said these words.

“Breathe, Lucy!”

It wasn’t until she was almost crying that he suddenly burst into a laughing fit and hugged her.

She wanted to get back at him for that.

“You know, I learned to dance from a young age, so I have a very good sense of balance.”

“Really?”

Saying that, she led him to a log bridge she had seen once. As soon as Lucius saw the piece of wood, he recognized her intentions and grabbed her hand.

“Deatrice, don’t tell me you—”

“Why? You don’t believe me?”

“I believe in you. But—”

He inhaled sharply, cutting off his last words. But she was already a little happy with the anxious tone of his voice. She pressed the corners of her lips together and gave him a rather serious look.

“So? Aren’t we showing each other what we’re good at?”

“But…”

“I want to show you something.”

After she said that, he finally let go.

It wasn’t a lie that Deatrice had a good balance. The ballet she learned from her childhood helped her to keep her balance even on narrow and slippery roads.

She climbed onto the log and began to assume a pose.

She gracefully moved one arm to her side, and the other one above her. One leg stood straight, supporting her weight, and the other one had its foot pointed towards the back.

“This is called a Croisé. Follow after me, Lucy—Croisé.”

Deatrice slowly raised the foot behind her into the air. It wasn’t easy for Lucius to pronounce the word accurately, but he hoped this would be over soon, so he decided to grant her wish.

“Alright. Cro…isé…”

Then she smiled and jumped, switched her weight from one leg to another, and leaned forward.

Using the sound of leaves swaying in the wind as her musical accompaniment, she began a series of movements like water on a gentle stream—soft and fluid.

Deatrice turned to her side.

“And this is a Pas de Bourree.”

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By now, he too, had no choice but to watch her move like a floating butterfly. He stared blankly at her, barely recognizing that there was one log on the ground.

“…and this is a pirouette…”

She spoke, took a ready position and spun. On her second turn, she staggered and eventually fell into the water.

“Deatrice!”

Lucius’ heart sank and he tried to jump into the water to rescue her, but was soon stopped by Deatrice’s roaring laughter as she pulled her face out of the water.

“Don’t follow me in, Lucy. I can’t let you get wet with me.”

He jumped in surprise for a moment, but Lucius also knew that Deatrice was as good at swimming as she was with ballet. He sat down, frowning as he waited for her to come to him.

“What were you thinking?”

Deatrice laughed at the obvious displeasure in his voice.

“Nothing.”

The words she had once said echoed in his ears again, ‘I’ve always lived unpredictably, just like this’.

Lucius was freed from his thoughts upon seeing the look of joy on her face.

It’s just that…

As soon as she came ashore, her clothes clung to her skin so tightly, revealing the outline of her body, and his expression hardened.

She casually passed by him and wrung the hem of her clothes. She was evidently clumsy as she never had to do anything like this before since she had servants to take care of her.

She thought that Lucius, who had been taking care of her so tenderly, would come and volunteer to help her as he had always done, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Deatrice called him when her clothes were only wrinkled, and the water didn’t drain properly.

“Lucy?”

But there was no answer from him. She turned around and saw him rigidly rooted on one spot, with one knee on the floor just. The same position he was in a couple of minutes ago.

She started walking towards him

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” He sprung up and hastily passed by her. But it looked like he was hurting since his head was bowed and his face was buried in his hands.

Deatrice was convinced he was suffering from having some dust or spores stuck in his eyes since she had seen it happen before when she had previously visited this place.

“Here, let me remove it for you.”

As soon as she approached him, he moved away. When she approached him again, he moved even further away.

Deatrice glanced at him with a strange expression.

“Is there something wrong, Lucy?”

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He didn’t answer.

Deatrice wondered if he was angry at her when Lucius unexpectedly took off his jacket, walked briskly towards her, and immediately wrapped his clothes around her. She panicked and tried to pull herself out, but his strength was too much for her to contend with. She couldn’t escape.

“There’s still water in my clothes—”

“I’m sorry, but please wait a moment.”

He hugged her.