Chapter 19 A Peaceful Evening
At the table, the young man did not say much. He felt strange. It was a lot to take in after only a few days. And on top of that, he had missed his training with the commander that morning. He knew Sir Rossi would probably not dare reprimand him as harshly as he would his soldiers, but still. Back in Rivière, Oscar had never missed a single training session, partly because his father had granted him a great deal of freedom regarding training, but here—where he should have had even more—he somehow had less.
The Duchess had agreed to share the affairs of the duchy with him. While he felt eager to take part, he knew he was not yet up to the task. He would have to make another trip to the library. But where could one possibly find a useful book on the administrative management of a duchy?
That thought reminded him of something.
“I visited the library yesterday. It was completely empty, and the curtains were drawn.”
She froze, her fork suspended midair, and raised an eyebrow.
“Empty? Empty of all books?”
“Oh no, no—simply empty of people.” He placed his cutlery on the edge of his plate. “I could never find the book I was looking for; the collection is so vast.”
“Yes, the library could be considered a labyrinth. Only the librarian can truly find her way through it, and since so few people come here, she wanders about as she pleases. I told her she should at least notify someone when she ventures away, but it seems she chose to ignore that directive.”
Oscar sensed irritation in the Duchess’s voice. No—rather… amusement? It was hard to tell. She did not seem to take the fault very seriously. That was something he had already noticed after only a few days spent here. The relationship between the Duchess and her subordinates was very different from what his own father had displayed. It was not more lax… perhaps more understanding? He knew women were said to possess a stronger maternal instinct—could that be part of it?
He noticed that the Duchess was watching him. With her deep green eyes—it was cliché to think so—he knew that, which was why he kept the comparison to himself. And yet, the more he observed them, the more he felt an urge to tell her just how beautiful they were.
He shook his head. She was still watching him. Embarrassed, he reached for his glass and took a sip.
“You’re no longer hungry, Your Grace?”
“I was wondering what led you to the library,” she said. “I had understood that you were a man of arms rather than of culture.”
He let a few seconds pass, thoughtful. What was truly hidden behind that question?
“I have always enjoyed reading and studying, even if I am probably not the best of students—it’s true.”
“And what makes you say that you are not the best of students?” she asked, intrigued.
“I simply know it.”
“Did you lose interest in history, art, or mathematics?”
“No, of course not.” The young man paused. “On the contrary, I love them.”
“Then you must be far from being a poor student,” the young woman replied with a confident smile.
“Oh, but liking something is not enough to make you good at it. And I admit I have always learned more slowly than others.”
“Others?”
“Yes—at least, that’s what my father used to tell me: that I learned very slowly, with little progress.”
She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, choosing instead to finish her meal. Oscar, for his part, did not know how to continue or what to say.
So he said nothing.
The end of the meal passed in silence.
In the afternoon, Abélie came to see him. She had no further news about the vanished troublemakers. No one had heard from them in weeks—at least as far as Ruth’s brother was concerned—but the young majordomo remained determined to uncover some clue among the castle staff. Oscar had to urge her to return to her lessons instead of focusing on such a mystery. She was far too curious for her own good.
Thinking about it, ever since they had settled here, Oscar had not found the staff particularly strange. On the contrary, they were far removed from the rumours and perfectly ordinary. If rumours always carried a kernel of truth, one had to wonder where such lies about the Duchess and her followers had come from.
And yet, he remained intrigued. A forest he was forbidden to enter, disappearances no one searched for, a town no one guarded, strange individuals roaming the streets—and at the center of it all, a beautiful duchess plagued by odious rumours.
Well… beautiful was not exactly how the rumours described her.
Oscar shook his head. Lost in thought, he instead sat down at his desk. It was still early, barely four in the afternoon, and yet the sun was already beginning to set. He had never experienced that in Eau-Claire; it felt strange. Darkness had never frightened him, and yet here he found it somewhat oppressive.
He looked away from the windows and took out paper and a pencil to write a letter. Brief and to the point—it was the third he had sent to his father. He had hoped to return to Rivière two weeks after his arrival, but with the announcement of the royal ball, the Duchess would certainly be displeased by his lack of diligence in training. Then again, she was neither his guardian nor his superior; she had promised him total—if somewhat relative—freedom. Perhaps she would not oppose it after all, but deep down, Oscar wished to perfect himself before the event. Even if his future marriage was merely for appearances and not yet formalised, he wanted to make an excellent first impression before the aristocratic court.
That, too, was his way out.
The rest of the day passed normally. The rest of the evening did as well. And yet, lying in his bed, Oscar was still thinking. Was this his life now—his new routine? He had adapted to it faster than he would have thought. He had felt something painful when he had begun the journey, but here, he sensed that things could change.
Or perhaps it was only an illusion he clung to until sleep claimed him.