Chapter 64

Adolf raised an eyebrow at Liv’s stern response. Adolf pursed his lips in a straight line, lost in thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

“Oh, I see. That’s a good sisterly love. It’s such a good thing that your sister has a good older sister.”

Adolf didn’t ask more about it.

…

The conversation with Adolf stuck in Liv’s mind like a thorn in the side.

Not only his advice to ask for help to the Marquis about Coryda’s disease, but also about the other talks.

Coryda’s independence…

Liv, who had been taking care of Coryda since she was eight years old, couldn’t imagine her as an adult and independent. No, she could imagine Coryda became an adult, but she really couldn’t picture Coryda leaving her wings and living alone.

It was unknown whether she couldn’t picture it or didn’t want to picture it.

Liv swept up her throbbing head. If Coryda got healthy, she would surely try to stand on her own as it was her personality.

Coryda had already shown signs of self-will, such as getting a sewing kit from Rita and helping Adolf repair the fence. She held back now because of her disease, but if she regained her health…

Liv, obviously, wanted Coryda to be healthy. Why not? It was just if Coryda left and she became alone, it would be very perplexing to her.

So this was something she had a fear of.

As much as Coryda relied on her, she relied on Coryda as well.

“Are you there?”

Liv, who had been sitting absentmindedly, looked up at once. Someone was calling out beyond the door.

She couldn’t think of anyone who would come to her house.

Liv, standing up with a questioning face, suddenly remembered Camille and hardened her expression. He was the man who wanted to know her address most recently. She wondered if he paid for her information somewhere and chased her here. He was strangely persistent in his inquiries about her whereabouts, so Liv couldn’t help but be suspicious.

Liv carefully approached the front door and replied while holding the knob strongly.

“Who’s there?”

“I’m the coachman. I’m here to pick you up.”

The coachman?

Liv blinked her eyes and carefully opened the door. The person standing neatly at the door was the coachman of the carriage to whom Liv was indebted for each trip to the Marquis’ studio.

But she had already been to the studio.

“I didn’t hear there’s a work session today.”

“Master ordered me to pick you up. Are you busy?”

Liv’s expression turned puzzled. Behind the coachman was the black carriage she always took. It seemed that he was telling the truth that the Marquis ordered him to pick her up.

It was only a few days ago that she met the Marquis. She couldn’t guess the reason for this situation.

“He also added to not bring you if you’re busy.”

The coachman looked like he was ready to turn around if Liv refused. Pondering a while, Liv swallowed her saliva and glanced behind her. Coryda was in her room taking a little nap. She had no idea of what was going on, but she thought it would be okay to leave a memo and leave for a while. It was the Marquis, not anyone else. She couldn’t even think of refusing his summon.

“I’ll get out soon. Please wait a minute.”

…

Stepping out of the carriage as usual, Liv soon realized she was in an unfamiliar place.

This place was not the outskirt mansion where she always visited for the nude painting work. The mansion in front of her also gave off a remote atmosphere, but it was surely different. For starters, it was the way the house looked, and the landscape around it.

What if the one who called me wasn’t the Marquis?

Liv, who belatedly thought of that possibility, looked back at the coachman with an unease gaze. The coachman was soothing the horse without much care.

Am I supposed to go into that mansion in front of me? But I don’t know what and who’s there. Just as Liv’s anxiety was about to spiral out of control, someone came up to her from the entrance of the mansion.

“Are you Miss Rhodes?”

He was an old man with graying hair and a benign look on his face. He, dressed decently, bowed his head toward Liv.

“Welcome to Verworth Manor. My name is Philip Philmond, the butler. You can call me Philip.”

Philip’s soft voice, coupled with his impeccable demeanor, instilled a profound degree of trust in the other party. Nevertheless, Liv couldn’t ease out her guard and greeted him back with a look of wariness on her face.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Philmond.”

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