Chapter 6

The marquess tried to say something, but in the end, he remained silent. His face was briefly clouded with confusion before he finally found his composure.

“Isn’t it too soon?” he said. “The funeral was only yesterday.”

“Putting off this sort of decision won’t do anyone any good. I’m thinking of leaving today or tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”

“Maybe you should speak to my wife before you go?”

“It would just make things more difficult for her.”

“I see…” His voice trailed off. He seemed to think for a moment. Still, he offered no objections, just as I had anticipated.

The marquess was a man of practicality. With his daughter gone, my presence was no longer necessary—in fact, I had become an inconvenience overnight. With plans in place to name Laertes as his heir, it would be awkward if he kept me around any longer, especially since I wasn’t his daughter in any sense. It was crucial that Laertes quickly find a suitable match, making it inappropriate for an unmarried young woman to live at the estate with him.

Despite this practicality, the marquess was still visibly uncomfortable with the idea of sending away Ophelia’s closest friend so soon after her passing. Nevertheless, he agreed. “Do you require anything? I’ll provide whatever you may need.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

I didn’t have much to pack, just some valuables and a few items of clothing. Though I owned a whole wardrobe of dresses that Ophelia insisted on giving me, they would be unnecessary in the simple life I aimed to lead as a commoner.

I wanted to leave whatever I could behind and draw a boundary between my past and my future. I had lived in the manor for a long time and was treated almost as well as Ophelia herself had been, but it was all temporary in the end. None of the things I owned were really mine. I couldn’t let myself be fooled.

“I plan to depart without drawing any attention to myself. I don’t want to cause you any more distress during this difficult time. I’d appreciate it if you could keep my impending departure a secret.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll respect your wishes,” the marquess responded.

“Thank you.”

“But remember, if you ever change your mind, you’re always welcome back. You and Ophelia lived together for ten years in this very manor. You may think of this place as your own home. No one would ever ask you to leave.”

I just smiled in response. Sometimes even empty words could be comforting. This was one of those times.

It didn’t matter if I lived here for ten years or twenty. I was still just a distant relative. My own family was in decline and barely clinging to their noble titles. The marquess and his wife had essentially bought me from my parents, and my residence here had merely been the labor expected for the money they spent. Yet, I wasn’t ungrateful. If the marquess hadn’t bought me, my worthless parents would have just sold me to someone else.

“Thank you. I’ll take my leave now. If you’ll excuse me,” I said.

With a concerned expression, the marquess watched me go. He didn’t try to stop me. As soon as the butler opened the door for me, I left the room.

The marchioness was still unwell, leaving the house quiet except for the servants moving to and fro carrying linens and hot water. I paused at the entrance to the corridor that led to her room, but in the end, I decided to keep moving. If I went to see her, she would likely only cling to me.

I didn’t want to inform her of my impending departure, either. It would be met with objections, whether because of guilt she felt toward her deceased daughter or as some form of compensation for the time I had spent here. She would certainly consider it improper to send me away so soon after the funeral.

I couldn’t allow any of it. I was not her daughter and never would be. I refused to step over the line I had drawn and convince myself otherwise.

Were I to visit the marchioness in her vulnerable state and insinuate that I could fill her daughter’s role, I might have secured a place for myself. I could have positioned myself as a convenient replacement for Ophelia, slotting myself into the role many assumed I was after.

The idea brought a bitter smirk to my lips, but I harbored no delusions. I would never truly be able to take Ophelia’s place. Nothing in this world could fill the void she had left behind. It was a sentiment echoed by the men who cherished her deeply, all now fated to a life of despair.

Ophelia was very dear to me, and I treasured our time together at the Windrose Estate. But that was all there was to it. Without her, the name Windrose meant nothing to me.

It might have been simpler to just become the naive noblewoman I was reputed to be, the one who was lucky enough to elevate her status by attaching herself to an ill lady. Ophelia had wanted me to lead a fulfilling life and find happiness in her stead, after all.

I entertained the idea of finding happiness. I imagined myself wearing a wedding veil with a long lace train, clutching a bouquet of costly imported flowers while I approached my groom—a nobleman of high status, someone I wouldn’t have dared even look at in the past. Achieving that happiness seemed possible.

However, I knew that remaining in Ophelia’s shadow would never lead to true contentment. I loved her, yet I envied her all that she had. Reminding myself that it could never be mine was easier than coveting the unreachable. After all, in no way could I serve as her replacement.

In time, another girl who was beautiful and more reminiscent of Ophelia would take her place. The fate of this new girl, be it tragic or joyous, remained uncertain.

As I packed, there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I called.

A maid peeked inside. Seeing her brought a faint smile to my lips. It was Dorothy, the maid who had cared for me and Ophelia for the longest time.

“My lady, are you okay? I was worried you hadn’t eaten, so I brought you something to snack on,” she said.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

“Why is your room in such a state? Hasn’t it been cleaned yet?”

“No, it was. I just had some things to sort out.”

“Sort out? Are you changing rooms?”

I wasn’t sure what she believed was happening, but explaining the current situation seemed like too much effort. I just responded with a smile.

I had grown quite fond of the staff at the estate. The chef, Hans, always remarked that I was too skinny and offered me food whenever I passed by the kitchen. There was also Nanny O’dille, who had practically raised Ophelia and I, and Dorothy, who had long tended to our every need.

I selected a teal satin ribbon from my dressing table, then I took Dorothy’s hand and tied it around her wrist. She looked at me, surprised. “But this was a gift for you, my lady.”

“I’m giving it to you.”

“What? B-but Lady Ophelia gave it to you herself.”

“I’m not all too fond of the color. We’ll share it between the three of us. You, me, and Ophelia.”

The woman sniffled and nodded as I smiled warmly at her. “It’s strange that you’re able to smile so soon after as if nothing happened,” she said. “It makes me feel even sadder somehow. You should let yourself cry, my lady.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard everyone cursing me for my lack of tears.”

“Goodness. It’s been more than a day or two that I’ve known you. By now, I can tell whether your smile is genuine or not…”

Tears began to flow down Dorothy’s cheeks. As I gently patted her on the shoulder to comfort her, she succumbed to her grief with loud sobs. I pulled her into a hug.

“M-my lady…”

“There, there.”

“L-Lady Ophelia, she… You…”

“Yes?”

“It’s such a tragedy, her dying so young… It’s just heartbreaking…” As I gently patted her back, her tears continued to flow like running water. “Y-you two were so close.”

I smiled. Indeed, we had been. It might have been nice if Ophelia had suggested that we die together.

Putting that thought aside, I held the maid close for a while longer. After much crying, she finally looked up with a tear-streaked face and a grateful smile. She expressed how lucky she felt to at least have me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I would be leaving the next day.

* * *

I departed by carriage at dawn. The butler had insisted on it, and given the vastness of the Windrose Estate, reaching the main road on foot would have taken the entire day.

The estate was silent in the early hours. Just as I was about to board the carriage, I caught myself staring at the main house. Realizing my gaze had drifted to the second-floor room where Laertes was likely to be sleeping, I smiled bitterly. It seemed that I had hoped, perhaps subconsciously, that he would ask me to stay. I dismissed the thought with a shake of my head.

Ten years had passed since I had arrived at the Windrose Estate. At that time, both Ophelia and I were eight years old. She had passed on before ever reaching eighteen, and now I was leaving.

It felt like I was fleeing in the night, which was amusing in its own way. After all, why did I have to hide? Who would seek me out after I was gone?

I had lived as Ophelia’s dearest friend for so long that I had lost sight of reality. For a while, I had mistakenly believed I belonged thanks to the laughter we shared and the daily conversations I had with distinguished individuals—the same people whom I never would have dared approach in my previous station. But really, I had nothing. Without Ophelia, there was no one else who loved me. It was to be expected since nobody else had any reason to hold affection for me.

I refused to let myself become pitiful and miserable, or driven by greed and ambition. I would not succumb to envy and desire things beyond my reach. I had to go.

Without a backward glance, I climbed into the carriage. Only a single trunk was loaded with me into the unadorned vehicle.

After some time spent traveling, the carriage came to a halt. I thanked the coachman and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The early morning street was bustling with activity as people began their day under a sky painted with cool gray clouds.