Chapter 226: Chapter 226

“I’m sorry. But carrying it yourself is the only way.”

“I have another appointment right now!”

Isella had planned to meet Zion immediately. Carynne, standing a step behind, watched as Isella and Madame Devinel’s voices grew louder, feeling a bit drained by the escalation.

Nonetheless, Isella got what she wanted. Even though Isella grumbled for now, that dress was certainly her favorite, and Countess Luce, who was short on money, was one of the few nobles who would welcome Isella warmly in that outfit. Isella would surely be satisfied with today’s choice.

The Luce Countdom’s townhouse had quite decent tulips in the garden. Were they blooming now? Perhaps Carynne could see them if she visited with Isella. Had she taken a step closer to being a friend today?

She had also thoroughly studied tulips. She could maintain a decent conversation. She clenched her fist.

“Then Carynne, you bring that over.”

“What, me?”

“Yes.”

“……”

…It seemed she was one step closer to being a maid rather than a friend.

* * *

Dresses laden with decorations were quite heavy. Five such dresses constituted a tremendous burden. Carynne, looking at the luggage placed next to her, was engulfed in contemplation. She could take a carriage up to the front of the Grand Cathedral. But could she carry it herself from there to the annex?

She would have to ask someone else for help, but the vicar was the problem. He disapproved of young women coming and going already, and he often reprimanded Carynne. He saw the hospitality extended to her as excessive indulgence.

‘…Should I just carry it all myself?’

What was particularly bitter was the difficulty of becoming friends with Isella. Initially, she thought there would be no obstacles after Isella broke up with Raymond. And when they had successfully navigated a potentially major obstacle with Duke Luthella, hope had shone like gold.

But that was then, and this was now.

Becoming friends was an entirely different matter. It was even different from dealing with men. Men instinctively showed a degree of fondness, but women of the same age, precisely Isella, were different. Carynne felt a sense of self-loathing as her maid-like behavior towards Isella naturally surfaced.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

‘Could it be that I just naturally have a maid’s instinct?’

It was a genuinely servile instinct, it seemed. Carynne was usually in a position to command maids and servants, not to be commanded by someone. No, it was not supposed to be that way. But those numerous memories of attending to Isella naturally flowed out.

When talking, she would watch Isella’s mood and unilaterally cater to her whims, choosing things that Isella would like. The problem was that this did not endear herself to Isella. Perhaps it’s just that Isella had a twisted personality—she would not grow fonder of those who catered to her but instead regarded them as beneath her.

Carynne sat on the luggage, closing her eyes as the noon sun shone much too brightly at her lids.

“I told you so.”

There was no need to open her eyes because she knew who it was.

With her eyes still closed, Carynne merely waved her hand.

“Don’t nag right now, I’m thinking. But Sir Raymond, did you have a good trip?”

“Yes. I took care of my business.”

Raymond helped Carynne to her feet. He pointed to the carriage and took on Isella’s, specifically Carynne’s, luggage instead. Carynne couldn’t even think about lifting it herself, but in his hands, it’s as if she was as light as an empty box. Carynne tried to lift another one but gave up when it didn’t budge, leaving it to Raymond.

Seeing the name of the boutique written on the box, Raymond asked.

“Are these yours?”

“They’re Miss Isella’s.”

“Why aren’t you buying something for yourself too?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Miss Isella isn’t even paying for you? Hmm. That’s a bit too much.”

“I don’t expect much from her, really.”

Carynne spoke cautiously, trying not to sound bitter in the girl’s defense, but Raymond shook his head disapprovingly and said as he walked beside her.

“Are you going to the annex of the Grand Cathedral?”

“Yes. You’re not allowed to enter though.”

“I’ve already spoken to the caretaker.”

“Will you also be staying at the Grand Cathedral?”

“Not officially. But since I’ve spoken to them, you won’t need to be too cautious. And.”

Raymond handed the luggage to the coachman, then looked down at Carynne and said.

“Just say it’s under my name. I’ll pay for it later. My butler at the manor will handle it. It bothers me to see you just carrying luggage and not able to buy anything in front of Miss Evans. Feel free to buy whatever you like.”

“Oh, then.”

Raymond’s meaning was clear. He lifted Carynne into the carriage, and said,

“Yes. I am now Baron Saytes.”

* * *

During Carynne’s journey to the capital with Isella, Raymond had gone back to his family’s estate to handle his business. Things turned out a little different than expected. Raymond had been considering a similar approach as before.

Baron Saytes, his older brother, had been as good as dead to him for over a hundred years now. And he was soon to die again. There was no guilt in killing him prematurely.

“I’m going to try and become friends with Miss Isella.”

“I want to let you do what you want to do.”

If Carynne had specifically told him that she didn’t want his older brother dead, then he wouldn’t have gone ahead.

“Haa.”

Raymond was not enthused. More than the repulsion of committing fratricide, he regretted the opportunities he would miss by not killing his brother immediately. But throughout the years as he aged, he realized just how useful and necessary a title of nobility was.

And that title was needed to protect Carynne.

“Do as you please.”

Carynne, all too naturally, said she disliked harming others and desired peace. But really? Raymond found that hard to believe completely.

In fact, even a hundred years ago, he always felt this way. Even though Carynne, Prince Lewis, Isella Evans, and Verdic Evans thought him moral, he did not see himself that way.

And even now, with Carynne pushing his back, he still held no sympathy for his brother at all. If anything, he rather thought that the servants and maids who suffered at his brother’s hands were those who deserved pity. Some had been beaten so badly they ended up with permanent disabilities.

Over time, more certain relationships could be affirmed. Such was his relationship with his older brother. Their relationship was like a flower on a single branch—but that branch was rotting with disease. Pruning the right branch could allow the rest of the tree to survive.

It was an arrogant yet utterly realistic judgment. Through spilled memories and repeated lives, Raymond could be sure.

There were just some relationships that should not be held in expectation anymore.

His older brother’s life had consistently ended within a year from now, if not in a few months—typically in an accident. Until the day before his death, he would be violent towards others, high on drugs, and predatory towards women.

The first time Raymond killed his brother, it wasn’t guilt that overwhelmed.

It was regret that he hadn’t done it sooner.

***