Chapter 51 – Memories of the Past

Gris followed his brief order and seated on the bench.

She couldn’t distinguish if it was nervousness or restlessness that she was feeling. But because of this, she only half-seated on the bench and was struggling to remain in place.

His blue eyes that sparkled with the sunlight again averted its attention on the book in his hand. Gris glanced sideways to capture a glimpse of the book’s frame he was reading and then began to feel strange again.

She thought the book itself was rather beautiful, and so was Vianut. He had thick, rich eyelashes, neat eyebrows, and soft lips. His black hair, which was naturally swept away by the afternoon wind, looked quite neat and vibrant. Maybe it was the influence of the scenery of the Great Byrenhag, where wildflowers are in full bloom that he too had started to look lovely in Gris’ eyes.

Yes!

The reason why she felt suddenly attracted to this man is only because of the green scenery, the whole ambiance of this place managed to bewitch her, she was only lost in the place, a momentary lapse of judgement that was all.

Gris looked at her surroundings once again. She felt an unfamiliar sense of familiarity in the air, as the tip of her toes were pounding nervously against the grassy land.

She then spotted Quentin who was standing near them and noticed that he had begun to watch the butterflies with the embroidery plate he snatched from her earlier that day.

Gris began to feel lost in the moment when a calm low-pitched sound slowly resounded beside her and broke her reverie.

“I heard that Dirk will be arriving soon.” Vianut told her.

Maybe he was talking about someone. Gris guessed that he was talking about Yuliana’s friends who were planning to visit the mansion. Nonetheless she couldn’t stop herself from asking a question.

“Who is that?”

He turned the page of his book with his slender fingertips as he replied.

“Yuliana’s childhood friend.”

Gris remained silent.

“I am thinking of arranging your marriage with him.” Vianut told her nonchalantly.

Gris suddenly recalled that Stephan also told her the same thing today—that her fiancé will be coming soon. He must be someone of great importance that they carefully chose for her in order to benefit the Byrenhag family the most.

Gris was not interested in what kind of man her fiancé is, but she found herself rather interested in the thoughts of Duke Vianut of her fiancé. She wanted to ask if he would be sending her off as the fake Yuliana before things get worse.

“Should I get married?” Gris’ serene question echoed in the garden. Duke Vianut only flipped another page of the book in response and the two were trapped in an awkward silence. After what seemed to be an eternity, Vianut then spoke as he pressed his fingers on his earlobe tightly as if it was suddenly very ticklish.

“Yes, you should.” It was only then that Gris realized that Vianut would agree with anything as long as it would benefit the family. Even the Grand Duke himself is preparing to marry a woman who has never seen before, as a part of the royal order.

Gris perceived intuitively that she would soon have to marry Dirk if she stayed in this mansion longer. She felt an irresistible urge to flee before that happens, for once she was married, she would forever be trapped.

However, she wondered, where would she flee? Could she even go outside the mansion? How will she avoid the bandits who were hiding all over the forest?

The sun was still bright, but she felt it was rather dark as if there were heavy clouds in front of her. At that moment, Vianut shifted in his seat, he couldn’t concentrate anymore, so he closed the book.

“Marriage only.”

She couldn’t fully understand the meaning of the word “marriage only.”

Gris decided to look at the flower bed, nervously fidgeting her fingertips on the bench at loss with what she must do.

The black butterfly she saw a while ago was sitting on a wildflower with its shiny wings fluttering against the cold air. She thought it had already gone somewhere else because she couldn’t see it, but it seemed to have stayed there.

Her vision, which regained vitality, relentlessly chased looking after the butterfly as it jumped from flower to flower. Vianut, who had been looking at her all this time, was also now looking at the same butterfly.

Gris glanced slightly sideways at him for she sensed his eyes land on her. She tried to read his face, seemingly wanted to understand why she liked butterflies so much.

The truth was, Gris did not like butterflies at all. Rather she was just envious of the freedom that a butterfly had, as it can appear on a sunny day, and enjoy nature and fly anytime. But the moment she saw a black butterfly, she felt something more special about that flying creature. It reminded her of the precious memories that she had when she was nine.

At that time, Gris was trapped in a tower after watching his parents beheaded.

Perturbed by the incident, she cried all her eyes out for days. But when she heard that her father’s followers were still fighting, she sang a song of victory day and night. After three days, symptoms of dehydration started to manifest in her.

As she heard the pitch of torn vocal cords that sounded like hoarse metals being scratched together, she knew she was going to die. After that, she persistently cried as she ran out of breath. She was a child full of fear, only wanting nothing more than to hide in her parents’ arms and collapse in them.

Her tears endlessly flowed in the corner of the rock prison she was trapped in, her cage black as night.

A few days passed. There was a sound of stone banging against the second-story wall—which seemed impossible to be reached by people. And that sound still haunts her to this day.