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‘The reason for the change of heart.’
Staring blankly at the letter, Ray recalled his wife, who had rattled off strange things with a composed demeanor.
She was capable of saying such things. Because she was a Boltonian.
Yet, continuing to dwell on those words was unlike Ray.
“You could just discard Ladan.”
Discard.
As if Ladan were some piece of street trash.
Holding a cigarette, Ray let out a solitary, dry laugh.
The inappropriate choice of words was very like her.
However, from that night until now, he simply could not forget that conversation. Was that not why he had eventually gone so far as to contact Sophia Greenwood?
What was most strange was the fact that he hadn't been angry that night. Despite having such an absurd conversation, far from being annoyed...
“Your Grace, the guests seem to be arriving soon.”
At the words of Martin, the servant who had entered the study, Ray crushed the cigarette he was holding into the ashtray and prepared to leave the room. He wanted to stop thinking about the woman from that night.
Today was the day Rose's guests were visiting the Crawford estate.
Her half-brother, Ben Davis, and the man who had been her teacher, Marcel Garnier.
Agatha had suggested that it would be proper for her to invite her family at least once and proposed calling her father, but the wife had refused, saying her brother would be enough.
Agatha reported that the woman's attitude regarding not inviting her father had been quite firm.
Inviting Marcel had been Ray's suggestion, and it was half-impulsive.
Agatha completely failed to understand why a mere pianist should be invited based on nothing more than personal acquaintance, and Ray could not accurately explain the reason to himself either.
Ray simply had to make an excuse to Agatha that there was something he needed to express gratitude for.
It wasn't entirely untrue. It was a fact that things had become easier thanks to Marcel Garnier's magazine.
<What must be protected above all else is life>
Ray cast one last glance at a title of a magazine column before stepping out of the study.
Marcel Garnier and Rose's brother arrived at the Crawford estate in a single carriage, as if they had come together. The two seemed to already know each other.
He had thought so at the funeral of Rose's biological mother and again at their wedding, but these siblings did not resemble each other much.
Only the shape and color of their eyes revealed that they were the children of Elliot Davis.
Benjamin Davis, who was now seventeen with brown hair, was certainly more suited to the word 'boy' than 'man.'
“Rose!”
The boy, who looked at his sister with a bright expression and habitually tried to hug her, seemed to realize something upon seeing Agatha's subtly stiffened face and gave an awkward smile.
“Is it not allowed to do this to the Duchess? I'm sorry. To me, she's still just my sister.”
In that spotless, innocent smile, there was a strange power that even the strict Dowager of the Crawford house found difficult to oppose.
“Since you haven't seen each other in a long time, it's only natural to be very glad,” Agatha settled the situation with a surprisingly generous expression. Ben boldly beamed at the Dowager once more.
Rose did not behave as boisterously as her brother. Even the voice she used to call her brother's name was not much different from usual.
However...
“Ben.”
The smile lingering on her lips as she called that name was something Ray had never seen before.
The moment she called his name while looking at her brother, a smile bloomed from the corners of the woman's mouth, brightening her entire face.
The expressionless face, which had been like a blank sheet of white paper, had vanished without a trace.
Her green eyes, focused entirely on her brother, shone with tenderness. It felt as if warmth permeated her entire body.
Without realizing it, Ray watched the scene for a long time.
Even during the meal in the dining hall after the greetings, Ray could not stop observing Rose, who sat opposite him.
The initial smile had long since disappeared, but the atmosphere, different from her usual self, remained.
“I believe Mr. Davis attends Oakley Boarding School? Our Ray also graduated from there.”
“It's the best school,” the pleasant-looking boy replied with another smile to Agatha's question.
“Ben's grades are very good. He might even graduate at the top of his class,” Rose, who had been mostly silent during the meal, spoke up rarely. Her tone was calm, but her strangely excited manner, as if boasting about a child, could not be hidden.
Ray looked at Rose with a renewed sense of curiosity. At his wife, who seemed like a completely different woman.
He had heard that they didn't live together because they were half-siblings born from Elliot's two separate households, so what was she so happy about?
“Your sister's marriage was quite a big event; has anything changed since then? At school, I mean.”
Agatha's question was decidedly intentional.
Rose's name and face were appearing in the newspapers frequently. Ben could not have been unaffected.
He felt her intention to discern whether Ben was benefiting from the Crawford name at school, or perhaps doing something that might harm that name.
“Hmm, well...”
Looking at the boy's clear face, it was impossible to tell if he had caught the meaning or not.
“It's a bit of a headache because the entire student body found out my sister is a beauty. It's already chaos, but once they realize she's better in person than in the newspaper photos—ugh, just thinking about it is tiring.”
At his sly attitude, even Agatha let out a hollow laugh.
“But Rose, that photo really did come out well.”
“Beth.”
Agatha called her daughter's name in a stern voice.
Though she didn't specify which photo, everyone knew it was the photo of Rose smoking. Agatha wished to never mention that topic again.
“Miss Crawford is correct. Did you know that photo became a trend in Antaka, Dowager?”
Marcel Garnier added after taking a sip of wine.
Agatha briefly showed a look of disapproval, and seeing that expression, it seemed the favor Marcel had gained by leveraging his friendship with Sophia Greenwood had become useless.
“Really?”
“I heard it's used a lot as decorative stickers or postcards. Since Antakans, regardless of gender, smoke so much, it's not that surprising.”
Marcel explained quite kindly and in detail to Beth's surprised question.
“Good grief, Antaka. As if they had nothing else to make a trend out of... How dare they use a photo of the Duchess.”
Agatha eventually clicked her tongue. It felt as if the word 'dare,' which she barely omitted, could be heard.
“The book Rose was reading in that photo is also being read secretly by everyone in Orturan right now. All my friends were reading it, so I tried it too, and it was really interesting!”
“Stop it, Beth. I truly want to stop hearing about how strange young people are these days. I wonder what will become of this country!”
Rose, seemingly displeased with the topic, merely wore an awkward smile. It was a starkly different attitude from when she spoke of her brother.
Unlike Agatha, who found the entire situation distasteful, Ray was not particularly surprised.
Antaka was a country that consumed even foreign celebrities like their own gossip; fame always worked like two sides of a coin.
If someone was cursing Rose frantically, it would spark curiosity in someone else.
Whether positive or negative, in any way, Rose was currently the most talked-about person, and if so, there might be no need to use that only in a negative direction.
Furthermore...
Hadn't her absurd advice to utilize artists' magazines been useful in its own way?
Suddenly, Rose lifted her head, and in doing so, her eyes met Ray's, who had been watching her all along.
The moment the two pairs of eyes met in the air, the warm aura surrounding her vanished completely. The woman, returned to her usual expressionless state, stared at him silently.
The woman from last night, who had poured out everything she wanted to say to him without hesitation, seemed to have disappeared. In her place sat the doll-like woman he had seen at the wedding.
Absurdly, he found that fact displeasing.
* * *
“Thank you for connecting me with Countess Greenwood, Duke Crawford.”
Marcel Garnier approached Ray, who was standing next to the gramophone in the drawing room, to offer his greetings.
“I enjoyed the magazine. There were many good opinions.”
“I'm glad it sold well,” Marcel beamed.
In fact, after Sophia Greenwood took an interest, the circulation had increased explosively. It was the first time Ray realized there were so many followers of artists.
Ray had never had much interest in so-called art.
Things like novels or paintings were merely meaningless games, too detached from life.
“Why not try utilizing the artists?”
That was why he had been skeptical of Rose's words. What kind of help could people who do not live in reality provide for an extremely realistic problem?
However, the act he performed with the mindset that there was nothing to lose brought about a completely different result.
As if they had been waiting for a stage to be set, numerous artists criticized the war without hesitation. Every single one of the dozens of pages consisted of writings opposing the war.
It was an attitude contrary to that of the majority of politicians, who were playing it safe.
Perhaps because they were in a position where they had nothing to gain from Avery and thus didn't need to walk on eggshells around him, the magazine also included a significant amount of fierce criticism toward him.
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