Chapter 47

The table was set with a silver tray holding cream and milk, alongside a jar of sugar. Elena felt a wave of relief wash over her as she quietly observed Hazel sipping her tea without a word. Every small gesture from Hazel set Elena’s nerves on edge, afraid she might inadvertently provoke a reaction. As she joined Cura by the fountain, Elena noticed the maids had already left the greenhouse. She took a silent breath, feeling her shoulders rise and fall.

“Unusually quiet today, aren’t we?” Cura whispered, leaning towards Elena.

Indeed, Hazel hadn’t spoken a word, as Cura remarked. While dressing Hazel earlier, Elena’s fingers had brushed against her silky black hair, adorned with jewels at the neckline. Expecting Hazel’s usual sharp disdain, Elena was surprised when Hazel simply turned away without a glare. Throughout the day, Hazel’s eyes betrayed her discomfort whenever Elena acted, and though her lips seemed poised to speak, they remained sealed.

“I wish every day could be like today,” Elena replied with a slight smile to Cura’s whisper.

While it was a relief that Hazel hadn’t seemed offended, Elena couldn’t shake her unease.

Quietly lifting her gaze, Elena observed Hazel and Carmen engaged in conversation. Their expressions were nearly inscrutable, and their voices too soft for Elena to decipher their discussion. 

Time seemed to lose its meaning amidst the tranquility. Although the greenhouse itself felt cool, sunlight streamed through the glass walls, creating a warm, almost buoyant atmosphere. Cura, still bundled in her thick coat despite the gentle warmth, felt a rising flush creep across her skin. Coupled with the weight of a sleepless night clinging to her eyelids, the peaceful ambiance lulled her into a daze.

“Cura!” Hazel’s sharp voice jolted Cura awake instantly.

“Yes?” Cura responded, a flicker of surprise crossing her eyes.

Hazel usually directed tasks towards Elena, even with Cura present. Now, however, Hazel’s gesture and summons were specifically for Cura. Elena watched, a knot of unease forming in her stomach.

Following Hazel’s pointed finger, both Cura’s and Elena’s gazes landed on the same spot. It was the secluded area with poisonous plants, such as Vanaichi, where Serin had been when Elena first arrived.  A large padlock typically secured the entrance, accessible only to Serin or those he summoned. Even Lassino, the butler, couldn’t enter freely.

“Isn’t there another garden inside too?” Hazel asked, recalling her earlier peek.

“Indeed,” Cura confirmed.

“But why’s the door locked, then?” Hazel pressed.

“Lord Serin personally tends to the inner greenhouse,” Cura explained.

“Personally?” Hazel echoed. A prickle of unease crawled up Elena’s spine. It intensified into a full-blown wave of disquiet as she listened to the exchange.

Hazel nudged Cura when she hesitated. “Well?”

Though Hazel’s voice remained level, Elena sensed a shift in her mood, a subtle souring. Elena, with her experience of navigating Hazel’s temperament, saw the warning signs in her narrowing eyes.

“Well, I—” Cura began, but Hazel cut her off.

“If you won’t answer,” Hazel said, her chin jutting towards the locked door, “I’ll just have a look myself.”

Elena watched, a tremor running through her. The once gentle Hazel now exuded a sharp coldness, like a blade held at her throat.

As Cura rose from her seat and headed towards the inner greenhouse, Hazel followed suit, rising from her seat as well. Cura turned to Elena with a panicked expression, her complexion draining of color. Gathering the hem of her dress in both hands, Elena hurriedly ran towards the two. Just as Carmen was about to grasp the lock, Elena stepped in between her and the greenhouse door.

“Just a moment,” Elena forced out her voice, pretending not to notice the pounding of her heart against her throat. Though she couldn’t enter anyway without the key, she felt a primal sense of danger. Since the moment Hazel, who usually only enjoyed tea time in the parlor or her chambers, suddenly suggested going to the greenhouse, Elena hadn’t foreseen what was to come.

“How dare you block my way?” Hazel grabbed Carmen’s shoulder, pulling her aside. Stepping right up to Elena, she raised an eyebrow sharply, glaring fiercely. A quiet rage simmered in her winter lake blue eyes, as if, in her usual demeanor, she found Elena’s audacity to block her path contemptible.

“You cannot enter because there are poisonous plants inside.”

Hazel’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know there are poisonous plants in there? Seems like you’ve been inside. Do you even have the key?”

“Serin is the only one who has the key,” Elena replied, her voice trembling slightly, despite her attempt to mask it.

“Is that so?” Hazel leaned in, their faces mere inches apart, the rich fabrics of their dresses brushing. Her lips curved into a smug smirk, then just as abruptly, she stepped back.

Elena finally exhaled, the tension that had coiled in her shoulders snaking away. Her fist, clenched so tight it had wrinkled the fabric of her dress, unfurled, leaving her fingers stiff and numb like porcelain dolls. But her moment of relief shattered as Hazel’s sharp voice sliced through the air.

“Search her,” she commanded. Immediately, Carmen moved with chilling efficiency. Before Elena could even register the command, she felt intrusive hands patting down her body.

“Why are you doing this?” Elena cried, shoving Carmen away. Her resistance was a fly buzzing against a windowpane.

Carmen offered no response, only a chillingly blank stare in return. Elena had never seen a person’s eyes so devoid of emotion, so utterly devoid of a soul. It was as if Hazel’s command had transformed her into a mere automaton.

“Miss Elena doesn’t have the key,” Cura interjected, but Carmen continued her relentless search, stripping off Elena’s coat and reaching beneath her skirt. As Carmen’s hand brushed against the wide lace cuffs at Elena’s elbows, Elena cried out.

“Stop it! There are poisonous plants in there! Surely you know that better than anyone, Miss Hazel. I wouldn’t risk going in there, key or no key!”

Elena abandons the futile attempt to stop Carmen physically and tries a desperate plea to reason with Hazel.

“How would I know that? I don’t even know why my fiancé treats someone like you so specially,” Hazel said, fanning herself with a fan slightly larger than her palm, shaking it in front of her face. While her tone flowed like water, her gaze was quite the opposite. I couldn’t care less whether she has the key or not. That was what Elena realized from Hazel’s gaze. It was all just about tormenting her. Resigned, Elena surrendered to Carmen’s touch. All she hoped for was that this ordeal would end quickly. Meanwhile, Carmen’s hands roamed from Elena’s elbows to her shoulders, roughly undoing the ruff encircling her neck in no time.

Meanwhile, Carmen’s hands moved swiftly from Elena’s elbows to her shoulders, deftly undoing the ruff encircling her neck. Elena gasped as the ruff was torn away, exposing her sternum above the plunging neckline. Despite the warmth of the greenhouse, the sudden exposure of her skin felt chilling in the air. Recoiling in surprise, Elena instinctively covered her chest, attempting to push Carmen away. But Carmen was quicker, spotting something glinting around Elena’s neck and seizing it abruptly.

“Ow!” Feeling the pain in her neck, Elena stared blankly at Carmen’s back. Carmen was handing something to Hazel that she had taken from around Elena’s neck. Hazel’s face, adorned with pearl-like white silk gloves, contorted heavily.

“Why do you have something so expensive?” she demanded, looking at Elena’s hand that was covering her neck, ignoring the warm sensation beneath her palm. The item in her hand sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight filtering through the greenhouse. Elena knew without looking that it was the flute Kennard had gifted her, crafted from pure gold with a row of rubies adorning it—a precious token she had initially refused, attempting to shake off the memories it carried.

“Are you even going to claim you didn’t know about this?” Hazel’s voice, misunderstanding my gesture, became sharper. “Did you steal it, by any chance?”

“No, it’s… that’s…” Cura interjected.

“Cura!” Elena hurriedly called for Cura, hoping to stop any further conversation. She knew Cura was worried she might be misunderstood. But she also knew what Cura was trying to say, and it might backfire.

“I don’t know whose it is. I found it by chance in the parlor and thought it was pretty, so I… I didn’t mean to…”

“So you stole it?”