.jpg)
“Wow, you’re quite overconfident. It’s your delusion to think that words explain everything.”
The man, looking at her with his arms crossed, still wore a crooked smile. However, he seemed oddly amused by her rebuttal.
“Especially when dealing with people like you, who beat around the bush and circle around the point. What exactly can be conveyed?”
“Well, in that case, it would be a lack of intelligence on the part of the listener, wouldn't it, my lady?”
He replied in his characteristic, teasingly polite tone. His blue eyes were still full of conviction.
“How on earth do you plan to attend such an event with this attitude?”
Rose let out a hollow laugh, pondering how she could effectively explain her point to such a frustrating man.
Having become so immersed in the argument with him, she had already half-forgotten the events of yesterday.
After thinking for a while, Rose finally asked.
“There’s a piano in the drawing room. May I try playing it for a moment?”
* * *
Sunlight streaming through the large windows of the drawing room warmly illuminated the grand piano.
Thanks to several vases filled with autumn flowers decorating the room, a pleasant floral scent lingered in the air.
Rose took a breath as she carefully brushed her fingers over the well-maintained piano keys.
Why was she so nervous when she wasn't even going to play a proper piece?
Perhaps it was because Ray Crawford was standing beside her, like a professor evaluating a student.
“So, what is it you want to show me?”
“Now, listen.”
Rose took a breath and placed her hands on the keys.
“I’ll play what I want to say to you on the piano. Try to guess.”
Drawing on her experience teaching children, Rose carefully considered her approach.
When dealing with a man who was like a wall, a certain amount of stimulation was necessary.
Rose carelessly and haphazardly slammed several keys at once. Loud, completely discordant notes echoed through the drawing room.
Glancing up at Ray, she saw him looking down at her with a look of utter disbelief.
“What do you think that means?”
“……I think it’s a curse word.”
Fortunately, although the man looked bewildered by the answer, he didn't seem offended.
“See, you can understand it too.”
At Rose's nonchalant response, a chuckle escaped Ray.
“It would be better to just curse with words; wouldn't playing it like that just hurt your hands? You're quite good at cursing already.”
For a man who didn't seem like he would just stand by and listen if she cursed, he was quite the talker.
“If you just said 'bastard' like usual, it would be over simply in three syllables. It's much more efficient.”
It seemed that the single curse word Rose had uttered once had left quite an impression on him, as he brought it up whenever he was bored.
Since his tone was clearly a joke rather than a criticism, Rose looked at her husband with a renewed feeling.
He only made these kinds of jokes in front of her.
Every time this happened, it felt as if she had a secret that belonged only to her.
“Exactly. That ends too simply.”
Regardless, thanks to that, Rose was able to respond with a fairly relaxed mind.
“What kind of confidence do you have, thinking there exists a curse word that can properly express my feelings?”
Surprisingly, the man laughed upon hearing Rose's words. Out loud.
The laughter he let out wasn't long, but it was definitely a complete laugh. Startled, Rose looked at her husband, who seemed like a completely different person.
Whether he was laughing or not, his face was always flawless, but the genuine trace of a smile made him look far gentler than usual. That softness suited him quite well.
“I didn't realize you had so many complaints about me.”
Even in his low voice, traces of laughter remained.
“……I was just joking.”
Feeling strange as she looked at him, appearing even warmer under the sunlight, Rose turned her gaze back to the keys.
“Why would I curse at the only person who took my side yesterday? I'm not an idiot.”
“Hardly.”
A rebuttal came in a soft voice.
“No, really. A real curse is like this. I'll play what I want to say to Avery.”
Rose now didn't even use her fingers, but roughly slammed the side of her hand down on three spots on the keyboard. It was a gesture closer to punching than playing. A hideous noise blared.
“To think the Duchess would say such harsh words……”
Ray, laughing again in disbelief, muttered.
“As I've said repeatedly, even if it's just the two of us, I believe it's necessary to maintain one's dignity.”
At his sly agreement, Rose finally laughed as well.
As she lifted her head with a laugh that escaped before she could stop it, she froze the moment her eyes met the man looking down at her.
The fleeting trace of a smile had vanished completely from his face.
Instead, he was staring at Rose with an intensity that felt overwhelming. His expression was blank, but his gaze was persistent.
The man staring intently at Rose did not look as indifferent as usual.
Rather…….
There was a temperature in that gaze, enough to make her feel an inexplicable sense of shyness.
Rose cleared her throat for no reason and stroked the keys.
“So…… what I mean is. Only Orturan people understand the Orturan language, and only Antakans understand the Antaka language.”
Even as she spoke, she wondered if he was still looking at her that way. However, she couldn't bring herself to lift her head.
“But everyone can understand this. Perhaps even those in Cuetra could understand.”
As Rose aimlessly pressed a single key, a clear note flowed out.
Though she had hurriedly changed the subject out of embarrassment, all of this was Rose's sincere feeling.
Music was the first language she had ever learned. The most intuitive, easy, and universal language.
There was a time when her mother used to whisper love to her through the piano.
“Isn't it wonderful that we can communicate without speaking?”
Mustering her courage to lift her head slightly, she saw the expressionless man who had returned to his usual temperature.
Rose couldn't tell if the emotion she felt upon confirming this was regret or relief.
“This time, no jokes; I'll play for real. Guess what emotion it is.”
Rose played a few bars of a simple and light melody in a major key.
“Joy.”
The man gave the answer quite easily in a disinterested tone.
“Then how about this?”
As Rose played a few bars of a slow, sorrowful melody in a minor key, Ray, leaning against the piano, chuckled.
“Sadness, obviously. I'm not interested in music, but I'm not an idiot.”
“Indeed, you're guessing much better than I thought.”
“I don't see any reason to play something so simple and clear on a piano.”
“Then how about this?”
With a cautious demeanor, Rose began to play one of her favorite pieces.
It had been too long since she had played, but the moment she struck the first note, the memories etched into her body returned.
She briefly thought she wasn't as good as she used to be, but Rose comforted herself that she didn't need to play perfectly. This wasn't a concert or a competition.
As the soft melody flowing from her fingertips deepened, Rose began to forget where she was.
Orturan, Bolton, the past and the present all vanished, and only she and this beautiful piece remained.
Within the accelerating piece, Rose vividly felt the love and joy that had once certainly existed in her life, and the wounds they had brought.
This piece always told her, so beautifully and so sadly, the truth that loving something soon becomes a wound.
However, as she reached the climax where the clear high notes began, she reflexively stopped her hands before the pain could start.
The awkwardly ended performance was embarrassing, but Rose tried to act as if nothing was wrong. She hadn't intended to play until the end anyway.
“How was it? Can you explain it simply with words?”
“……No.”
A slightly husky voice flowed out.
She hadn't expected an answer, so it was unexpected.
“But even if you can't explain it… can't you feel it?”
He continued to look at her with a face that was hard to read.
Because there was no reaction, it was difficult to tell if he didn't understand her words or simply couldn't agree.
“Maybe you can't tell because I didn't play it well?”
Rose gave an awkward smile at the continuing silence.
“If you heard someone more skilled play it, perhaps—”
“I like it, the sound of your piano.”
He cut Rose off so quickly it sounded blunt.
Because of the stiff tone, it took Rose a moment to realize that it was a compliment.
Surprised, she simply blinked and looked up at her husband. Who would have thought that Ray Crawford, of all people, would say such a thing?
Moreover, there were plenty of people who played better than she did.
“……Mrs. Greenwood plays much better than I do. You've heard her.”
“I don't know about that.”
To say he didn't know that—no matter how uninterested he was in music, it was truly absurd.
“I like the way you play.”
Why did such a lie-like statement tickle her heart so much? Rose shifted her posture, fidgeting for no reason.
But Ray Crawford was not a man who told lies. If such a man said that, could it be true?
“That's why I'm saying there's no need to make that face.”
.jpg)