Chapter 98.1

Sitting before the fireplace, Lia unfolded Claude’s letters one by one. Each word felt like an intimate page of an old diary, but after reading the awkwardly written sentences, she tossed them into the flames without hesitation. The small embers turned red and quickly turned to ashes, symbolizing the regrets she had cast aside.

Pepe, who had been embroidering by her side, observed Lia’s expression cautiously. Despite occasionally biting her lip and suppressing her emotions, Lia didn’t appear to be grieving.

Canillia, who had calmly read and burned more than half of the letters, briefly straightened her back.

“Would you bring me some juice?” Lia asked.

Pepe put down her embroidery and asked, “Are you alright?”

“I was sad when I didn’t have them in my hands, but now that I’ve opened them one by one, they’re nothing special. They weren’t a big deal.”

As Lia whispered to herself, Pepe hugged her. Lia lightly patted the back of Pepe’s hand, who was more concerned about her.

Laughter from the ladies outside the open window drifted in. Pepe sighed and said, “There’s a glass greenhouse shaped like a birdcage in the garden. They made it last summer and it seems to have many valuable flowers inside. Everyone is there.”

“Oh… really?”

It must have been the same greenhouse she had entered with Claude the night before.

Lia couldn’t recall the beautiful sights of the greenhouse, only Claude’s pained expression, their passionate kiss, and her recoiling in shock as his hand ventured under her dress. She touched her flushed cheeks and resumed reading the letter by the fireplace’s glow.

“Mrs. Ihar was looking for you. She wanted to have a picnic together,” Pepe said, turning the doorknob.

“Really? We must hurry then. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Lia’s eyes darted with urgency.

“I informed her that you couldn’t sleep, and she said to take your time. You haven’t been feeling well since yesterday, and she suggested you stay in and rest,” Pepe explained.

“I still feel bad about it.”

“Then come out for a moment, maybe towards the end of the picnic,” Pepe suggested, leaving the room.

However, Lia’s unease lingered despite her attempt to let go of the past by burning her letters. Memories of those who tried to erase her connection to Louvre surfaced. While Canillia’s family from Veil was deemed acceptable, the same couldn’t be said for her family from Louvre.

Lia sipped on the refreshing juice Pepe had brought her, her hands shaking slightly as she unfolded the last letter. The paper was worn and yellowed, the ink faded and smudged in some places. As she began to read, she noticed that the letter was unusually long, filled with her crooked handwriting and traces of her whimpering. It seemed like it had been written on a day when she was terribly sick and unable to think straight, yet something had compelled her to put pen to paper. She blushed slightly as she read the words, which revealed her weakness, her longing for her mother’s fruit tea.

At the end of the letter, Lia’s eyes fell on a few words that stood out from the rest, “After a long time, I’m waiting for my light to come back.”

My light.

Canillia stared at the empty box before her and made her way to the desk, determined to put pen to paper. With trembling hands, she picked up a pen and began to write.

To my dear Princess Rosina von Weise,

Starting the letter was easy, but as the ink dripped from the pen, she found herself unable to continue. Should she forgive them for what they had done? Or should she ask why they had done it? How could she express her feelings now?

Lia crumpled the paper several times in frustration, eventually giving up on writing the letter altogether. Instead, she decided to visit Mrs. Ihar.

“Pepe, I’m going to visit Mrs. Ihar. The picnic must be almost over by now, right?”

“I think it’s going to rain. Do you have to go?” Pepe asked, concern etched on his face.

“Yes. I have to go before it gets too late.”

Lia donned a thick cloak provided by Pepe and stepped out into the empty hallway. The nobles were all at the picnic ground and the servants appeared to be taking no breaks.

“Relax. You did well yesterday, so today is just greetings…” Lia reminded herself as she walked towards the greenhouse.

As she stepped outside, she was hit by a colder breeze than in the morning, so she tightened the collar of her cloak. The garden was empty, with people slowly entering the greenhouse one by one. Despite the fact that it was already past noon, the sky was dark as early evening.

Lia quickened her pace when she caught sight of a jasmine, but just then a dry lightning bolt illuminated the sky. The sudden darkness was followed by raindrops that began to fall like a cascade of tears. As Lia wiped them off her nose and chin, a sudden downpour erupted, soaking her to the bone. The helpless cries of those caught in the rain mixed with the sound of servants running out from their hiding places and heading for the greenhouse. The command to take cover was echoing in her ears, but for some reason, Lia found herself rooted to the spot, staring up at the rain as she turned the hood of her cloak inside out.

The raindrops were icy, but it was more than refreshing. It felt like she was washing away all the lingering thoughts that had been occupying her mind. It reminded her of the day she had secretly swum in the river with Betty, the day Betty had given her a lily, the day she had felt reborn as a woman. As she stood there alone, a smile spread across her face, and she let out a deep breath.

“Hah…”