Chapter 212. Jealousy? (2)

Translator: Lili

Weekly Chapter 3/7

Like radiant morning sunlight spreading through a snow-covered forest at dawn, slowly and inexorably, he was being filled with something new.

Just as a statue kissed by love might become human, Henriad, who had always rejected humanity, was changing.

Serida, ever attuned to flux and transformation—the flow of colors in water, shifting clouds in the sky, and the torrents of a mountain stream—noticed it immediately.

She had always sought change, but Henriad’s transformation was the one thing she did not wish to see.

It might have been a kind of jealousy. Serida still didn’t know what love was. She wanted to change but remained stagnant. Watching someone she had considered a kindred spirit slip away was humiliating.

Daria Henriad, in love. Escaping the realm of frozen statues to become human.

Serida couldn’t bear his transformation, and so she acted. Fortunately, while he might have been a masterpiece as a statue, he was foolish as a human. He hadn’t yet realized he was changing. Serida laughed as she watched Henriad, becoming human yet still standing motionless in his display case like a statue.

Fueled by jealousy, mischief, and a flicker of expectation, she threw herself into her ‘work’ with more fervor than ever. To her, this was merely another experience among many, but if someone like Henriad could change through love, perhaps she could, too. Maybe she could learn what it meant to love. That was her hope.

However, her plan to report Henriad’s suspicious behavior to Kiehlermann, have him sent back to Euspolia, and take his place failed. Serida, the Sugar Girl, now faced a choice: watch the statue become human while she remained alone, or make her own attempt at humanity.

Serida made her decision.

Kiehlermann, who had little faith in his grandson, allowed her independent actions. She and Jackie were granted permission to leave Augwell, a prison that no longer held any interest for her. Tying a ribbon in her hair, Serida smiled. Her heart swelled with anticipation.

Perhaps she, too, could become human.

Though in a way entirely different from Henriad’s.

***

Garnelly liked walnut pie.

The reason was simple: it had been her husband Lou’s favorite food.

Now that Lou was gone, there was no way to know if she still liked walnut pie. Nevertheless, Shushu always shared any walnut pie she made or acquired with Garnelly. Since they couldn’t meet in person, she left it in the designated place Garnelly used for receiving outside items.

Today’s walnut pie was Shushu’s creation. Using a recipe taught by her father, Lou, it was so delicious even Henriad had praised it.

Shushu always harbored such hopes when she sent Garnelly a pie, but it wasn’t until adulthood that she realized no amount of walnut pie would ever elicit a response. Yet, she couldn’t stop. Her lingering attachment, as ingrained as a habit, wouldn’t let her.

As she shared the leftover pie, Shushu let out a long sigh. Since learning that Mini Cat had disappeared, she had spent her nights crying herself to sleep. Part of her wanted to confront Henriad, demanding to know where Mini Cat had gone, but thinking of what she had done with him made her lose the nerve. For two days, she had been stuck in a cloud of melancholy.

— Shushu… is something wrong?

Edwin’s cautious question over the phone went unanswered for a long moment. Too much had happened, more than she could articulate. Lately, she felt like she’d been thrown into the eye of a storm.

However, Edwin wasn’t someone she felt comfortable pouring everything out to. While she still cherished him, cherishing didn’t mean he was the one she could tell everything to.

Moreover, Edwin was always busy. Though he always said, ‘I’m available anytime’, the newspapers were full of reports about his recent meetings with the government in his capacity as head of the Isadoc family.

And hadn’t he warned her? That thought kept her from confiding in him. As always, Edwin had been right. Living alone had led to this mess. If she had stayed with Edwin, none of this would have happened.

Rimel or Jackie would have said, ‘It’s like sulfuric acid or cyanide—both will kill you anyway’, but Shushu was genuinely regretful. After reassuring Edwin that nothing serious was going on, she ended the call.

While Shushu’s mind was in turmoil, Henriad remained the same as ever. Despite having slept with a woman close to his sister, he acted as if nothing had happened, so indifferent that Shushu began to wonder if she had dreamed it all.

He still did housework, occasionally went out, or read the newspaper in his study. Even now, he sat beside Shushu, reading a book as she cut the pie. His calm demeanor finally broke Shushu’s resolve, and she voiced her frustration.

“…You’re awfully unaffected. Have you had this kind of experience often, Mr. Henriad?”

“Not often. Just the average amount.”

His composed reply wasn’t the answer Shushu wanted. Her expression hardened, and she couldn’t relax. Whatever his attitude toward women might be, his indifference toward his sister was especially cold.

She was supposedly his only family, yet he seemed more detached than he might be with a lover. Then again, maybe he treated his lovers the same way. Given his abundance of charm, that seemed plausible.

As Shushu studied Henriad, she found herself scrutinizing him. His soft platinum hair, fluttering long lashes, and delicate features were as elegant and beautiful as a porcelain doll. His tall, slender frame was neither too thin nor too bulky.

Though he had a small head, his long body made him look good in anything he wore. Whatever else he might be, he was as striking as Mini Cat in appearance. In his home country of Euspolia—or even on the streets of Logwin—people would flock to him in no time.

If he wanted, he could go beyond average and become a legendary Casanova. His looks were more suited to wearing a regal uniform with gold trim in a magnificent palace, alongside an elegant and refined lady. Yet in reality, he wore simple navy pajamas or plain clothes and coats, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and either lounged on the couch, worked in the kitchen, or did laundry.

Was his taste in women like that, too? Perhaps he preferred someone like Shushu—someone who seemed more suited to working in a flower shop or bakery than living in a grand palace or manor. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t pushed her away when she clung to him.

Shushu stared at the pie as she imagined the kind of women Henriad might have been with. The thought made her shiver. The combination of an elegant, dazzling man like him and a simple, naive woman was less like a romantic couple and more like a nobleman and his maid—or worse, a scam artist and their victim.