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“Happy birthday once again, Rose.”
Marcel spoke tenderly.
“There are many good things in life besides music. Open your heart.”
Rose merely smiled at her teacher's unrealistically positive advice before entering the mansion—a sprawling estate that never felt like home, and a place where a servant had been fired because of her.
According to her husband, she was someone who simply had to stay still.
Even if there were joys in life, there was no way someone who had to live like a dead mouse could easily obtain them.
Even a birthday wish was not something easily granted.
* * *
How should he describe this feeling?
Inside the carriage returning to the mansion, Ray continued to think. He searched for a name befitting this foul mood.
But no suitable word came to mind.
“Today is Rose's birthday... Did you truly not know?”
His mood had plummeted the moment Marcel Garnier, who had arrived late to Sophia's party, said those words.
A mixture of thoughts flooded him: how was he expected to know something the person herself hadn't mentioned, and who did this man think he was to be so well-informed?
No wonder.
Agatha mentioned that Rose's request to go out with her younger sibling had sounded quite desperate. It seemed she had wanted to spend her birthday with them.
Was that her only family?
For some reason, it felt even filthier.
“I noticed she was sitting alone by the fountain, so I gave her a ride back to the mansion. I sent her off with some flowers; I wonder if she feels any better.”
She must have been sitting there piteously again.
He could picture the scene vividly.
By the time he arrived at the mansion, Ray finally reached a conclusion.
This was resentment toward a woman who had made him look foolish.
Whether Ray had intended to celebrate her birthday or not, she should have informed him in advance.
At the very least, he should not have had to hear such things from a mere pianist.
By the time he entered the mansion, the day had already changed. Seeing that the hour hand of the clock had passed twelve made his mood sink even further.
Despite having rationally concluded the reason for these unwanted emotions, his mood remained unchanged.
It spiraled further toward the worst when the head butler, who was personally attending to him today, reported the events of the afternoon.
Seeing that there were still those who spoke recklessly, it seemed that spending time in his wife's bedroom once a week was not enough.
He felt angry even toward the head butler, who had served him excellently for a long time. Why today, of all days, did that woman have to witness such a sight?
Why on earth did others look down on his wife, the Duchess of Crawford? Who did they think they were?
Knowing it was very late, he headed toward Rose's bedroom. He didn't exactly know what he wanted to do by seeing her face at this hour.
Rose was sitting on the bed, placing flowers in a vase. She looked detached, as if she weren't even angry after everything she had endured.
Ray thought it was all absurd.
That the woman involved was so composed, while he, who had nothing to do with it, was the only one tormented by these emotions.
Seeing her put flowers from a bouquet into a vase that was already full, it seemed she had received flowers from two people.
He could guess who they were.
Rose gave a brief glance at Ray as he entered the bedroom late at night, but she showed no reaction.
Looking at the woman in her white nightgown, Ray suddenly became conscious of something he had never considered before.
As the curves of her body seemed to faintly show through the nightgown, he paused to catch his breath.
He was clearly going mad.
To come in to say a word and then be distracted by something like this. Feeling ridiculous, he averted his gaze.
“Who gave those to you?”
“I got them from Ben.”
She didn't even mention meeting Garnier or receiving flowers from him. A quiet rage began to rear its head again from deep within Ray's chest.
What reason did she have to keep that meeting a secret?
“Why?”
“...Because he's a kind boy,” the woman answered quietly after a long hesitation.
Seeing that she had no intention of telling him about her birthday until the end made him even angrier.
It was an irritation strong enough to kill the unwanted desire that had arisen.
“Not because it was a special day?”
Rose looked at him in surprise, but the expression quickly vanished, as if she had guessed how he found out.
“I heard it was your birthday.”
“It was my birthday.”
Her admission was utterly nonchalant.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Ray asked slowly.
At his question, Rose looked bewildered. As if he had asked a question he shouldn't have.
“Was that something I had to mention?”
Her questioning tone, sounding as if she truly didn't understand, made Ray even angrier.
“It wasn't a big deal, so I didn't. It's not something you'd need to worry about.”
Answering hesitantly, Rose looked at him with a face that showed she didn't understand.
“...Why are you angry?”
Ray was momentarily speechless.
He wasn't the type to get angry easily, nor was he the type to show it when he was. The same was true now.
Although the woman's attitude fueled his rage, his face, voice, and everything else were the same as usual; he had no idea how she had noticed.
“You didn't tell me there was a party for Mrs. Greenwood today either,” Rose said in a tone that sounded almost cold.
“Of course I understand. You were probably reluctant to take me or ashamed. So it's fine. You shouldn't be angry with me over this; just let it go. It's not as if I didn't tell you something important.”
Every word that came out of her mouth was absurd.
Why couldn't this woman imagine that he had done it for a reason?
“You still...”
Ray chose his words carefully.
If he didn't keep his wits about him, he felt he might start blurting out whatever came to mind, just like this woman.
“You still don't understand. The fact that I didn't mention it and the fact that you didn't are entirely different issues.”
“How exactly are they different?”
“Because you made me look like a fool,” Ray coldly cut off her defiant question.
“Should I have to hear such things from someone else?”
“For heaven's sake... Fine, they're completely different. Unlike you, who intentionally didn't tell me, I didn't set out to hide it. Mr. Garnier and I have been close for a long time, so he knows; what can I do about that?”
Rose's voice gradually rose and her speech quickened. Ray thought that was actually better. Better than him being the only one acting like a lunatic, getting angry over such a thing.
“I didn't think we were in a relationship where I should tell you such things. Do I just suddenly say, 'It's my birthday,' without being asked? I'm not a child, and it's not that important of a day. I really don't understand why you're getting angry over this.”
“Not in that kind of relationship,” Ray let out a mocking laugh.
Even after the kiss, it seemed to mean nothing to this woman.
Some are "close for a long time" even if they haven't seen each other for years, while others are "nothing" even after swapping tongues.
There was a serious problem with this woman's standards. She was illogical.
Or perhaps she had done more with that pianist than she had with him.
His head grew hot as he recalled the way they exchanged looks at the Antaka Embassy, as if they were the only two who understood.
No, was it his head that grew hot?
He could no longer be certain of his own body or mind.
“We are husband and wife. Surely you aren't unaware of that fact.”
“Honestly, you don't think we're a real couple either.”
Rose spoke as if half-driven by temper, and then she looked as if she had suddenly realized what she'd said.
During the tense silence that followed, Ray thought, without taking his eyes off the woman in front of him.
That she was right.
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