“……”
Beyond the door leading to the study.
Things that were difficult to lose were better left in plain sight. That had been Barbara’s habit. Oscar had inherited it without realizing.
Gazing at the door wrapped in black stillness, he slipped a hand into the pocket of his loosely worn robe and walked over. No presence came from the other side.
The woman who had reduced Abel’s once-brilliant report to worthless trash was likely holed up in her room.
Starting from the central market. Then Pal Pien. And then the common cemetery.
Oscar sat on his bed for the first time in a while and let out a hollow sound that might have been a laugh. The image of the woman’s tear-filled eyes—staring at him after that inexplicable brine grinder—surfaced. A strange question rose like a thorn lodged in his throat.
“…Are you coming?”
Depending on how it was heard, it could sound suspicious. Or anxious. Or if you thought about it —
For someone who had asked “Are you coming?” so many times with those tearful eyes, her reaction afterward had been laughable. The way she turned her face away as if fleeing, going deathly pale, felt almost tangible.
The faint smile on Oscar’s lips disappeared.
He caught himself stopping and replaying the moment without meaning to. Annoyed, he clicked his tongue and forced the useless thoughts aside.
It was late. A long day. He had thought enough about trivial matters.
He lifted the covers and moved to lie down.
His gaze drifted back to the door, swallowed by the stillness.
—
She didn’t know how she got back to her room.
Not just that.
Washing. Changing into pajamas. Drawing the curtains. Taking out her notebook and fountain pen. Sitting at the table.
The entire sequence felt like moving through a dream, a haze. Her mind was empty.
“……”
Seo-ah sat blankly for a moment, then opened her eyes wide, trying to steady herself.
This wasn’t the time for this. She had to record the day.
She opened her notebook and gripped the heavy fountain pen. Slowly, she tried to rewind the day from the beginning.
Nothing.
The strength left her straightened back. A groan slipped out.
“Ah…”
It had been a foolish day. From start to finish.
A day with no purpose. A day that helped no one—only caused trouble.
If she could return to this morning, she wouldn’t have gone to Pal Pien. Abel had been right. She shouldn’t have gone.
Her eyes felt dry and stiff.
The tears wouldn’t stop. She had rubbed them all day.
Her shoulders curled inward as self-loathing crept up. Her head lowered on its own. She buried her face in her palms and exhaled warm breath.
Then—
She thought she heard a low laugh.
A laugh with a cold, scraping resonance.
She shook her head at once and forced her thoughts back. Seo-ah straightened and tightened her grip on the pen.
“Snap out of it.”
A few seconds later, she slumped onto the table and sighed.
“Ah…”
She couldn’t even recall the day properly.
Why had she bought flowers? Something about it felt wrong.
As she remembered the armful of flowers, time folded without warning. Her thoughts returned to the mansion entrance, night already fallen.
Perhaps because only that moment was clear.
The cold wind wrapped around her. She shivered with self-disgust.
A scraping laugh echoed in her ears. Her heart pounded as if it would drop.
Dazed, she turned her head.
The mansion entrance looked like a temple of death.
He was there—leaning against the massive doorframe. The sight of him brought wolves to mind. Men as imposing as gate guardians stood beside him.
He kept laughing.
She should have greeted him.
But her head—her whole body—felt empty.
And yet her thought was amusingly—
Relief.
Why?
Because it was the first time, she had seen him since coming to Luxen?
Or because his presence erased the foolishness of her day?
She didn’t know.
The moment their eyes met, her racing heart stopped.
Ah. He really came.
This really is his home.
The tip of his cigarette glowed red. He brushed back his disheveled hair. Even in the dark, his eyes seemed faintly green.
“Have you been well?’
He tossed the words out casually.
‘Welcome back.’
That was what she should have said.
But her throat tightened, and no words came out. She only opened and closed her mouth.
Watching her awkwardness, the man murmured softly.
“Well, you don’t look like it.”
It seemed Oscar could see straight through her day—full of self-loathing and blame.
He turned away without interest and walked off. The men guarding the mansion entrance returned to their posts as if dissolving back into place.
Seo-ah was left alone.
How pathetic she must have looked.
Then the memory surfaced—being caught stealing glances at him on the train—and cold sweat broke out.
Seo-ah, who had been lying down, curled up further and groaned.
If she hadn’t heard the sound of Madam Barbara’s cart outside the door, she would have stayed like that much longer.
“Miss, I’ll be coming in for a moment.”
Startled, she jumped to her feet, but the door opened without ceremony.
“Madam Barbara.”
Seo-ah hurried over and held the door as Barbara pushed the cart inside. The cart was piled with food.
Why was there more than before?
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
“It’s too much, ma’am.”
Barbara, who had been about to push the cart fully in, paused at the doorway and looked back.
“They said it was before dinner.”
“Yes, but still.”
Barbara studied Seo-ah for a moment, then nodded. She pulled the cart back out.
“Then I will take it back.”
Even setting aside the sincerity of the person who brought it, Seo-ah quickly grabbed the cart and shook her head.
“No, ma’am. I didn’t mean for you to take it back.”
“…Then I shall put it back in.”
There seemed to be no middle ground with the noblewoman who stood at the edge of human boundaries.
Seo-ah quickly took out a small plate.
“I’m sorry. Just this one will be enough for me today.”
“…Will that be sufficient?”
“I’m really fine. Thank you.”
She quickly placed the plate inside the room, but Barbara had already begun pulling the cart away. She couldn’t just stand by while the person who had brought an entire cart of food took everything back.
She hurried forward and caught the door as it brushed the corner of the cart.
Barbara raised an eyebrow once, then smoothly turned the cart and continued on as if nothing had happened. She crossed the study toward the hallway door. As if nothing had happened. Seo-ah moved ahead and opened the hallway door for her.
For a brief moment, their eyes met—Seo-ah’s quiet navy gaze and Barbara’s indifferent eyes.
As Barbara pushed the cart out, she said quietly,
“I will clear the dishes when I bring breakfast tomorrow morning. Please rest.”
Then she left without giving Seo-ah time to thank her.
Seo-ah stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where Barbara had disappeared. She listened to the steady sound of the cart fading away, then closed the door softly.
She was a kind person.
Turning back, thinking she should finish the food before sleeping, Seo-ah suddenly felt something strange.
A sense of crisis. Or déjà vu. Or a cold breeze brushing over her skin.
Before she could identify it, she froze.
“……!”
Someone was standing in the dim study, thick with the scent of books.
If one encountered a large tiger on a dark mountainside, perhaps it would feel like this.
A towering shadow seemed to tug at her ankles.
Under the weak lamplight, Oscar stood there, loosely draped in a smooth robe, watching her.
Only then did it fully register.
This was his space.
Had he come to read? She should leave. She should open the door and go.
Even though the room wasn’t small, Oscar dominated it with ease.
Seo-ah shrank in on herself, shoulders curled, head lowered to the most cautious angle. Carefully, she broke the silence.
“I apologize for not greeting you properly earlier due to the circumstances.”
After a brief glance upward, she bowed.
“Welcome back?”
A faint, wind-like laugh settled over her bowed head, followed by a murmur meant only for himself.
“Such good manners.”
“……”
“Yes. Have you been well?”
“The staff at the mansion were kind enough to accommodate me while you were away, so I managed.”
“You didn’t look like it.”
Faced with the difficult question, Seo-ah chose her words carefully.
“I made a mistake today.”
“What mistake?”
“I bought some flowers, but I didn’t know what kind they were when I bought them…”
“……”
Oscar fell silent for a moment.
She didn’t dare look up to see his expression. Maybe he was speechless with bewilderment.
Then he asked again, casually,
“But why did you sprinkle salt?”
—