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Journey Up North
One day, in the distant future, Orea paid a visit to Wellmy while Iora, the lady she had been serving since childhood, met with Aides.
A new life was growing within the womb of the Marchioness of Ormirage.
“Orea?” Wellmy asked, sitting on a chair by the window and gazing outside.
“Yes, Lady Wellmy?”
Caressing her stomach, Wellmy said, “Since becoming pregnant, I’ve been reflecting. Why did my mother hate Iora so much?”
E̊n ŭ m̀ а̌_
Orea didn’t say anything in response—although it wasn’t because she didn’t know the reason.
“Perhaps she just loved me so much that she wanted me to inherit House Ernest. It feels like there’s more to it than that, though...” Wellmy trailed off.
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Then, as if she were talking to herself, she murmured, “Was my mother happy?” A tinge of what looked like sorrow glimmered in her vermilion eyes.
“I was afraid of my mother, of the sheer animosity in her gaze whenever she looked at Iora. But I’ve been thinking... Was that hatred really directed at her?”
Orea remained silent, but Wellmy kept going. “Father is going on a journey. He told me he’s heading North.”
A pause.
Ѐn û m a .і̌ d
“I wonder... Is he going to see mother?”
These words weighed heavily on Orea’s mind.
A few days later, she delivered some magic items to Clartes at Iora’s behest and couldn’t help but ask him about it.
“Lord Clartes?”
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“What is it, Miss Orea?” Clartes asked with a smile. His features looked very similar to Wellmy’s, but were a little softer.
“Lady Wellmy told me that you are going on a journey. It may be presumptuous of me to ask, but may I know where you’re headed?”
Е̇ num a
“The convent in the north,” Clartes replied after a brief pause. “I have a nagging feeling that I must speak with Isabella. There’s the matter of Wellmy’s pregnancy too...” He added that he wasn’t sure whether he should share the news with his former fiancée.
“My lord, I apologize for asking this of you, but would you mind listening to a story from my past?” Orea asked.
“Sure, go ahead.”
“I hate Lady Isabella.”
Clartes’s eyes widened in surprise at Orea’s sudden declaration, but he didn’t interrupt.
Feeling the need to clarify her feelings, Orea explained, “She was one of the main perpetrators of the terrible abuse Lady Iora suffered.”
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“I suppose she was, yes.”
“She was, however, very kind to Lady Wellmy and us servants. She would tell us that she had also been a commoner once and wasn’t all that different from us.”
These were all distant memories now, but Orea still remembered how Isabella had never forgotten to thank the servants for their work. How she would give time to rest to those who seemed tired, step in whenever there was an issue, and listen with empathy as they told her about their problems.
However, when interacting with Iora, she had seemed like a completely different person. After a few months, the other servants had also begun abusing Orea’s mistress.
She’s such a kind person, so why is she this vicious only toward Lady Iora?
All these years, that question had burned in Orea’s chest.
En u_mа
“I do not know why she treated Lady Iora so badly. When Lady Wellmy fell into the river, her mother did not even stay by her side while she was ill.”
Orea hadn’t said anything back then, but she had been furious. Isabella had slapped Iora and made her look after her ill sister, even with her cheek red and swollen, while Isabella herself hadn’t even bothered to stay with her own daughter.
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At least, that was what Orea had believed at the time.
“The water we used to blot Lady Wellmy’s forehead had grown warm, so I stepped out of the room to fetch some more. When I did, I saw Lady Isabella sitting on a chair in the corridor.”
Seeing the surprise on Orea’s face, Isabella had smiled and pressed a finger against her lips. “Wellmy is afraid of me because of what I just did. She wouldn’t be able to rest with me by her side, would she?”
Then, she had grabbed the bucket of water Orea had been carrying and told her to go get some rest and that she would put the bucket in front of the door later.
W е b n о v̌ е̇ l̄ _Е̊ ñû m̊а
“Um... May I send Lady Iora to rest instead?” Orea had asked timidly.
Isabella had frowned and replied curtly, “It is your break. Do with it as you please.”
Then, she had left.
“I do not know what the madam’s true intentions were. However, I did overhear her speaking to herself one day in her room. I have never told Lady Wellmy or Lady Iora about it, as I didn’t want to sadden them.”
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That day, Isabella had been looking at the outbuilding from the window of her room.
“If only she were a mean child...” she had whispered.
Ѐ ň_ů m̈ а . іd̊
“I believe you might know something about Lady Isabella that I don’t, so I decided to tell you this,” Orea said to Clartes.
“Thank you, Miss Orea,” the man replied, a smile curling on his lips.
He seemed happy.
“So Isabella didn’t actually change... All this time, I thought that she had become a different person after letting luxury get to her head, that she had deceived me. Part of me knew it was impossible, but I wasn’t certain of it. To think that it took me so long to finally go see her... I truly am a spineless, good-for-nothing man,” Clartes said, awkwardly scratching his cheek. “I tried to convince myself that I was just a blind idiot who had fallen in love with the wrong woman, and that Wellmy had suffered because of me, but that’s not the case. Although I suppose I was a blind idiot, just not for the reason I believed.”
Orea stayed silent.
“I’ll make sure to remember these anecdotes you shared with me. The Isabella I knew was a kind woman, just like the one you described. I knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who would cheat and commit fraud, but I didn’t have enough faith in her... But, thanks to you, I’m sure of it now: Isabella really is the person I always thought she was.”
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Orea bowed to him in silence.
She didn’t know what consequences her conversation with Clartes would have on the future. But she couldn’t bring herself to truly resent Isabella; that was why she had told him.
Seeing that Iora was done with her errands, Orea quietly followed after her. She had become much more majestic since becoming crown princess.
Staring at her mistress’s back, Orea started reminiscing.
The elderly servant Wellmy and Iora called “granny” had recommended Orea to Count Ernest as her replacement. Orea hailed from a subsidiary branch of the Hollyro ducal house. Her father was a baron but owned no land and had been considering relinquishing his peerage.
But “granny” had seen potential in Orea.
Е̇n̄u m а
One day, she appeared on their doorstep and told Orea that she would take her to meet someone. The girl followed her to the Ernest estate, where she became Iora and Wellmy’s waiting maid. After she did, her family received some sort of assistance, which allowed them to keep their peerage.
Now that Iora was crown princess, Orea, as her lady-in-waiting, had been granted the title of viscountess. It was a nonhereditary title that would die with her, but it seemed to have brought some good marriage prospects to her siblings.
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However, Orea didn’t care about her title.
Lady Iora and Lady Wellmy—these were the only two people she would serve for the rest of her life. She didn’t have time to think of others.
However...
If possible...
Е n ũ m̊ а̃ ..їd́
She wished for Wellmy to reconcile with her mother. Back then, she’d had no choice but to plot Isabella’s doom to save Iora. But if it could ease Wellmy’s sorrow, then Orea prayed that Wellmy could rebuild a relationship with her mother.
She wanted her mistresses to be happy and healthy.
That was her only wish.
※※※
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“Sister Isabella, you have a visitor,” one of the other sisters told Isabella.
Isabella headed to the room where the guest waited for her. The moment she saw him, she shrank back with a gasp.
Ӗ ñùmа
C-Clartes?!
Her face turned white as a sheet. What is he doing here? Why now, after all these years?
She tried to leave the room, but the Mother Superior blocked the doorway.
“Please, I...” she pleaded.
“You must see him, Sister Isabella. Lord Clartes wants to discuss your potential return to secular life. Of course, it is entirely up to you whether you accept or refuse. Consider it, and give him your answer.”
Ever since entering the convent, Isabella had been pious and earnest, dedicating her life to prayer and reflection.
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Every day, she prayed for Wellmy, Clartes, and Iora to be happy and at ease.
Recognizing her efforts, the Mother Superior had told her countless times that she could put in a good word for her to return to her former life, but Isabella had consistently refused.
Life at the convent was austere. This was only natural; after all, the Church adhered to strict principles, and this particular convent was responsible for women who had committed offenses not severe enough to warrant imprisonment or exile.
Most sisters lamented their lack of freedom, but for Isabella, this life of calm and quiet, where all she had to do was go about with her daily tasks, was both a punishment and a form of healing.
If possible, I would like to spend the rest of my life here.
Having been raised in an orphanage, Isabella was used to a simpler life. All the extravagant purchases she had made with the Ernest funds had been a ploy to make Savarin suffer. Now that she was free from those long years of hatred, she couldn’t have been more thankful for this peaceful life, even as she often found herself faced with the large void in her heart.
W е b n̄ о̄_v̆е̂ľ Е ńu ḿ a
She had taken her revenge. She could die tomorrow, and it wouldn’t matter. All she’d wanted was to spend the rest of her life dedicating herself to prayer, and yet...
“Mother Superior, please...”
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She bowed her head in a plea to the strict yet kind woman, but before the Mother Superior could respond, a gentle voice called from behind her, “Isabella.”
Isabella froze.
“Please talk to me. I won’t force you to do anything. I just want to talk.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she clutched both hands against her chest. The dry, cracked skin of her fingers hurt, and she could feel the boniness of her own body beneath her touch. Her damaged hair was tied back carelessly under her headpiece. She had more wrinkles than before and wasn’t wearing any makeup.
W̃e b n̈о ve l Ёñ u m̄а̂
I can’t see you when I look like this...
“Sister Isabella,” the Mother Superior repeated, as if to chide her.
Isabella wasn’t allowed to oppose her orders.
Resigning herself to her fate, she slowly lowered herself to one of the parlor’s rickety chairs, her head hung low. She immediately covered her face with both hands.
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I don’t want you to see me like this... Not this shabby, old, guilt-ridden version of myself.
“Please leave, Lord Liroud. What are you even doing here? Did you come to laugh at me?” she asked.
W̊е́bn̊оv̌е̊ľ Ѐṅù mа̊
Don’t look at me, I beg you...
Isabella’s heart was in complete disarray. Yet, she still did her utmost to play the part of the foolish woman she’d convinced everyone she was. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to say a single word to him—not after all she’d done.
“I’m not so idle as to come all the way here to mock you.”
“Lies. You’ve come to laugh at me, the woman who betrayed you and fell from grace, haven’t you?”
Isabella knew that Clartes wasn’t such a petty man. But that was precisely the kind of remark a foolish woman who thought only of herself would make.
Please think that I’m that kind of self-centered woman, Clartes. Then leave. Don’t be kind to me. If he showed her kindness, Isabella was afraid she would burst into tears.
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“I don’t have any reason to mock you,” Clartes said. “Isabella. Ever since meeting Wellmy, I’ve wondered the same thing: Did you truly cheat on me?”
Isabella’s breath hitched in her throat. Why was he asking that question? Why?!
She didn’t want to talk about it.
She didn’t want to think of it.
“I was nothing but an empty shell of myself after losing you. But then I met Wellmy. Isabella, you raised a very wise girl. It made me wonder if I had made a mistake, if I’d gotten it all wrong.”
No. No, you didn’t.
Wе̂ b̀ñ о̊ ṽ êl̊ Е n̈u̇ma
“Wellmy simply didn’t strike me as the type of girl raised by a woman who was unfaithful and spent her days drowning in luxury.”
Stop. Please, stop.
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Isabella frantically reached for something to say to make Clartes give up—something vicious and cruel. Something that would truly disappoint him.
“Wellmy betrayed her own parents,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “I did not raise her. It was all her waiting maid, Gordley, and Lady Collwella.”
Those people made her into the pure, honest girl she is, Clartes.
“Is that so? But it was just you and Wellmy until she was eight, wasn’t it? Besides, Wellmy told me that you were always kind to her, and Orea said that you were gentle with the staff as well.”
È n̈ u m̄ a
Isabella was at a loss for words.
“From what I’ve heard, you were only cruel to Iora. Toward everyone else, you were the same gentle soul I knew. The woman I loved.”
“Stop talking,” Isabella eventually managed to say. “I do not wish to see you—today or ever. Please, leave...”
She didn’t want to listen. She couldn’t bear to hear Clartes speak those words. The woman he loved had died the day Savarin violated her.
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It’s too late now. Everything is too late.
If only Isabella had paid more attention to her surroundings that day. If she had noticed Savarin’s carriage approaching... You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, Clartes. It is all my fault.
Wе b.n о̄v̈el _Ӗn.ŭm̂_a_
And so, Isabella put on a bold front. If she didn’t, she would break down crying right there and then. Why? Because of the sheer happiness she felt knowing that Clartes had finally noticed her secret, and that he had come to see her.
“Please, go home... Please, my lord...”
Please don’t look at me. I have become so ugly. I’m dirty...and old...
Clartes’s hand softly touched Isabella’s shoulder across the narrow table. She jumped in surprise and tried to pull away from the hand he had placed on her arm.
“Could you please show me your face?” he asked.
“Do you wish to humiliate me? Is that it? Don’t you think it is too cruel?”
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Don’t look at me. Please allow me to remain beautiful, at least in your memories.
“Your mannerisms still are the same as they were back then, Isabella. And you’re still just as bad at lying,” Clartes said.
Isabella could hear the smile in his voice.
“Whenever you felt guilty about something, you would always hang your head like this, your shoulders trembling. You felt like you didn’t deserve to cry because you were the one in the wrong. When we moved in together, you seemed anxious the entire time.”
Clartes had meant to ask her what was wrong, but he hadn’t.
“Isabella, I regret not asking you what happened. But I’m a proper adult now, so I will say this: if you don’t want to tell me about it, you don’t have to.”
Е ň ũ ṁ а. і̆ d̂
A clatter echoed in the air as Clartes rose from his chair. His hand made its way to Isabella’s back, gently stroking it.
“Isabella, it was a long way around, but will you please come live with me? For good this time?”
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Isabella’s mind went blank.
What did he just say...?
She shook her head. She couldn’t accept his offer.
“No, I can’t. I’m sorry...”
Wе̃ b̊ ńо vé l̂ _Ẽńu m̄ а
“Isabella. No matter what happens, you never need to feel sorry toward me. You’ve more than atoned for your crimes. I personally think that the only thing you needed to be punished for was tormenting Her Highness the Crown Princess.”
According to Clartes, Iora didn’t resent Isabella for what she had done.
That’s impossible...
Isabella had taken everything from that little girl. Iora would have lost it all if it weren’t for Wellmy. Yet she claimed that she had forgiven her horrible stepmother?
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I couldn’t forgive Savarin.
How could one bring themself to pardon the person who had stolen their entire future?
W_е́b̆ ñ о́ v̌el̈ Е̄n û m̄а̂
“You already paid for your sins. So please, Isabella, for my sake, come live with me. Being alone at our age... It’s too lonely.”
“My lord, please...”
Stop talking.
Don’t say those things.
Don’t be kind to me.
Or else, Isabella might actually take him up on his offer. She knew that she couldn’t. But she was about to lose control of herself.
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“Won’t you call me ‘Clartes’ again?”
A pause.
“Isabella, Wellmy is going to give birth soon.”
Isabella gasped, her eyes widening behind her hands, which still covered her face.
“Our first grandchild. I can’t wait. But because I have spent so little time with my wife and daughter, I’m not really sure how I should interact with the baby.”
Clartes bent forward.
W̆ ёb̃ ń о̆ v ě l .Е ṅu m а̇
“Will you teach me how to care for children? How to nurture them, what not to do... I’m sure you know it well.”
At last, Clartes took Isabella’s hands and lowered them, enveloping them in his own grasp.
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He saw her tears, her sunken cheeks.
Just like before, he was smiling at her, his eyes kind. Half of his hair had turned white, and he had more wrinkles than before, but he was still the same Clartes Isabella had once loved. The man she had never stopped loving.
“You’re beautiful, Isabella. Just like before.”
“I don’t even have makeup on. I’m just an ugly old lady...” she muttered.
Wе̌ b̌n о̂ v́ e l̆ Е ǹ û mа̄
“You weren’t wearing makeup when you were working at the orphanage either, yet you still shone brightly. Besides, I’m old too.”
“I... I betrayed you, Clartes...!” Isabella couldn’t contain the tremor in her voice any longer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” She had always wanted to apologize for hurting him.
“Don’t apologize. You’ve finally called me by my name. My adorable Isabella.”
Clartes went around the table and gently pulled her into his arms before bringing his lips to her ear, like he had done so many times in the past.
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“You don’t need to say anything,” he whispered. “Let’s go home, all right? I’m still living in that apartment—the one that was to be our home.”
Unable to speak, Isabella simply nodded in silence.
Е n̄ ùṁ а .і̄ d
