The sun shone
The wings of flocks of doves fluttered in the clear Ilgan sky, a beautiful blue reflected on the fruit fields, blooming with flowers, breathing in a delicately intertwined fragrance that surrounded every corner as he lazily descended the wooden stairs.
Louis yawned, feeling the water on his face moisten his eyes and melt away the drowsiness as he headed to the kitchen of the manor house, where he opened the back door to let in the beautiful sun, allowing him to relax peacefully on one of the benches.
The weather here was different from the foggy, gloomy city. He rarely saw a sunrise so bright and brilliant in London. He never heard the birds chirping or saw flocks of birds flying gently across the horizon. The place here was like a springtime bliss that bestowed a wonderful psychological harmony
"Good morning." Albert greeted him brightly as he passed through the kitchen door overlooking the farmhouse, which was blooming with pink cherry stems, carrying a basket laden with jasmine petals that sweetly dominated his nose. "Did you have a good night?"
"Yes. I haven't had one since I got back from Paris." He stated in a low, hoarse tone that betrayed what a restful, peaceful night it had been, compensating for the disturbances of the previous nights. Albert smiled as he reached with the jasmine basket to pull out a wrapped plate from which a strawberry scent wafted, overwhelming Louis's senses with ecstasy.
"You must be starving."
Louis shook his head eagerly, making his uncle's features lighten with a half-laugh as he placed the fresh strawberry pie in front of him next to an ice-cold glass of cherry juice, making his mouth swell with the deliciousness of the mixture
Everything here has always tasted unique and delicious.
"So, where did you get these?" Louis smiled sideways as he pointed to the basket of fragrant jasmine petals, and Albert smiled back, tucking each petal between his fingers. "Mrs. Seven Palom."
Louis's glance turned to surprise as he looked at the roses and then at the strawberry pie, remembering his uncle's talk yesterday about her owning a strawberry farm. He was puzzled as the food slid down his throat like a stone.
"She brought them as a token of gratitude for your favor. Unlike you, she brought them here herself." Albert raised an eyebrow, and Louis cleared his throat, frowning and continuing to eat the pie with less appetite. "That's very kind of her."
She had put him on the spot completely this time, and that bothered him. It had been noble enough of him to accept to be a messenger between her and her brother after what he'd seen her do the night of the party and hadn't said a word to anyone. But here she was making him look like a rude man who hadn't bothered to deliver the package himself.
What an annoying woman.
"What is the nature of your relationship with that woman, Uncle?"
His question escaped his lips before he could block it out. He pushed the rest of his food aside and studied his uncle, who knitted his brows in incomprehension as he sipped monotonously at his cherry juice.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, how far does your relationship extend exactly?" His blues darkened sharply. The suspicious blonde was a blot on every corner of his life. He could tolerate her brother's overly friendly nature and keep her misdeeds under wraps. But when it came to someone he loved, he wouldn't allow it for long.
"We're neighbors, we have an old understanding, and she's fun to be around. I don't see why you won't accept her, Louis. Yesterday you seemed quite uncomfortable at the mention of her," Albert concluded, which Louis met with a frown.
"She's a suspicious and uncomfortable woman. You haven't heard what people say about her."
"People talk too much. I've learned not to believe everything they say. If you know her, you'll love her."
He didn't understand, and Louis didn't know how to make him do what that woman had ingrained in his uncle's mind for years, an idea he wouldn't be able to change in a minute. She had made him believe she was a friendly and kind lady, while she harbored a malicious intent. What made her flirt and be kind to other men? What prevented her from doing the same with Albert, the deceived widowed farmer?
He placed his woolen hat on his head, overlooking the vast fruit fields surrounding the house, giving him a feeling of warmth and comfort like the spring season that had piled up all year round in that place. What a captivating, beautiful sight that made him forget his worries.
"Would you mind watering the jasmine trees while you're out?" he heard his uncle's request from the kitchen after he stepped toward the orchard, full of moist grass that gently pampered his feet, to pick up the watering can as he headed toward the young jasmine pot with small petals that had not yet ripened
Something about that place took away his sorrow, but every good taste had a yellow taint, and his Ilkhan spring taint lay at the bottom of that hill among the trees ripe with red strawberries.
Seven Palum.
Unlike the Ilkhan countryside, the weather was gloomy with a complete fog in London, hovering with a chill that shook his body wrapped in his thick black coat as he stood on the doorstep, taking a long, shaky breath.
Harold clutched the bouquet of roses tightly in his hand before knocking gently on the Legrent door. He waited until Oliver opened it and greeted him with a broad smile, storming in with all the radiance that the glum face of the elderly Elizabeth Legrent had brought
"Hello, Mrs. Legrent!" His face beamed, hoping to break the harsh frown that had settled over the woman, who gripped her cane tightly. "I thought it was clear that you were not wanted here, Herr Sigrid."
"Yes. But I saw the beautiful chrysanthemums on my way home, and I know how much you love chrysanthemums, so I thought I'd bring a small bouquet for the kindest lady in the kingdom... and apologize for my indiscretion last time." He flattered with a flirtatiousness that was evident in his measured words as he presented the bouquet to her with a gentle, gleaming gaze.
Silence froze for a few moments. Mrs. Inch's face didn't move. He'd come for a reason, and that was clear. She motioned silently to Oliver, who snatched the bouquet from his hand, prompting a happy smile from Harold's lips as he heard her order the servant to bring the tea and demand that he follow her.
He had always known his way well into the hearts of ladies of all ages. He had always succeeded in filling their gaps with an ease that didn't falter even with the most hardened of women
"I know that Louis left for Elkan yesterday, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to talk to you about something important to him. He took the initiative calmly. He crossed his fingers over his legs, accepting the questioning look in her eyes as a suitable response, and smiled.
During our conversation yesterday, the topic of marriage came up, and I told him how eager I was to see him finally get married now that he's finished his studies in France. But he surprised me by saying that he wasn't planning on it anytime soon and was vehemently against it!"
Harold studied the lady's features intently, shaking his head in disapproval as he continued. "He didn't accept my saying that the family would need an heir after him to carry on their name, and that you would certainly want to see his son and raise him as you raised Louis. He was very stubborn and wouldn't even let me continue the conversation."
He was fully aware of the lady's desire for heir after heir to perpetuate the family name forever, and he was playing on that string. Louis did not know, or understand, that marriage would be to his advantage and solve all his problems, and Harold was not about to leave his dear friend to his own devices without coming to his aid.
Even if Louis wasn't convinced of that .
The lady didn't say a word, but he saw the effect of his words on her face and in her eyes, which blinked with a veiled grimace of assent. Harold knitted his brows gently and twitched his thumb in a disapproving look.
"Perhaps I have no business speaking about marriage, but I am fully aware of its importance, especially to someone like Louis, who comes from a distinguished and educated family and has a grandmother as reserved as you. What family would be honored to have their name associated with the Legrent family. Don't you agree, Mrs. Legrent?"
Lady Elizabeth licked her lips as she took the cup of tea from Oliver, who then pulled the gilded carriage out of the room, away from the tug-of-war that dominated the room.
"What do you suggest, Mr. Sigrid?"
Harold's heart welled up, controlling his smile. Winning great-grandmother over would be the perfect persuasion to get his friend out of trouble and get everything he could possibly want: a spotless reputation and a beautiful wife.
"He doesn't know women and doesn't have enough experience to decide for himself. Unlike you, ma'am. You know every family in London and could choose a beautiful, intelligent, and wealthy wife from a large family to be lucky with."
His words were like silk threads woven by the stern Englishwoman's mind to convince her. He had no interest in the matter other than to be duly helpful to his only friend who accepted him as he was. In return for an indirect favor he had tried so hard for.
And he was sure that Louis would thank him from the bottom of his heart one day
With the light of the afternoon sun, the nightingales were singing close by between the fields of cherries and jasmine, a beautiful feeling and a wonderful companionship with the worried hearts and eyes wandering in space like his fingers that touched the hill grass with a passion that possessed him .
Louie breathed deeply, watching Rashdan trimming leaves nearby, while his pet black dog ran around him, distracted by the wild roses that had fallen for him. Although he loved spending peaceful time on the country estate, the emptiness was deadly.
Everything had changed, even though he insisted it hadn't. He was now grown-up. He couldn't run through the fields barefoot or follow flocks of birds as they flew past until they disappeared behind the trees. Growing up had a monotonous taste that he didn't like.
Rashdan, Rashdan!
He heard his uncle call his assistant, who was far enough away to hear the prayer. He sighed, leaning on his forearm to get up lazily, answering Albert's call from inside the house, where the latter stood arranging some things in a wooden box. Louie looked at him in surprise
"Are you getting rid of Anna's things?" he wondered, examining the paint pads and brushes along with his recently deceased wife's bottles of raw paint lined up in a box that didn't look like it had been around for long.
"No, of course not. These were things Anna didn't use until she passed away. I thought it would be a great tribute to her soul to give them to someone who could use them for the hobby Anna excelled at." Louis smiled weakly at the longing in his uncle's eyes as he remembered his wife, the accomplished painter.
Louis had always been in love with Anna. What a polite, kind, gentle, and beautiful lady she was, despite not coming from an aristocratic family like his uncle. Perhaps their marriage was what had upset Albert's relationship with the family, who disapproved of it and found it degrading... but the latter didn't care
"That would be most kind." Louie crossed quietly, carrying the box with energy and smiling broadly, appeasing his uncle with his kind decision to honor her prematurely departed soul. "Where do you want to take her?"
Albert's eyes beamed with eager support for his decision, and he quickly placed the remaining items in the box with a smile. "I want you to take them to Mrs. Seguin Palom's house."
Louis's smile faded slowly as he looked at his uncle in complete surprise, not believing his ill-advised choice of person to gift some valuable items to his wife. Louis hesitated, biting his tongue, and sighed without argument. "Are you sure about this?"
"Absolutely."
His decision wasn't going to be settled. Louis pursed his lips rigidly and held the box tightly in his arms as he shuffled outside, where the fresh wind accompanied him with a soft sting as he descended the green hillside. His grumbling eyes fell on the ripe strawberry trees swaying coquettishly in the breeze
His feet slowed on the road as he saw the house on the right with an open door overlooking that field with its wet grass, containing a wooden bench and an easel for a painting (empty, waiting for the brush to soil its pure virginity).
He turned to the left at that movement, a dress fluttering in the wind. Kian stood on a short wooden ladder behind one of the strawberry trees that hid this girl's face from his glassy gaze.
"Excuse me, I want to meet Mrs. Palom." He spoke politely, straightening the girl's body, who straightened up so that Palom's flat, straight face could be seen from behind the tree branches, smiling welcomingly. "It's me. Hello, Mr. Legrent."
Louis shook his head briefly, hiding his astonishment at that feminine appearance that highlighted the beauty of her gorgeous twenty-six years, unlike the way he had met her in London
That white dress with its curls at the tail and neck was captivating, along with her hair, which she tied with the blue scarf effortlessly, highlighting the green of her eyes that sparkled with everything that surrounded them of lush, picturesque lands and the scent of jasmine that filled every inch with infatuation .
He didn't strain his astonishment for long as he pointed to the open box and explained, avoiding eye contact with the charming woman. "Albert sends these things. They belonged to his wife, and he thought you might like them."
"That's very kind of him." She expressed her gratitude with a look of serenity, as if she knew only too well how important these things were. But she didn't; he didn't find her aware of how hard it was for Albert to part with his wife's belongings. She wouldn't understand.
He held his breath as she accepted the box from his arms, watching her lower it down the front of the wooden stairs after picking up the basket filled with freshly picked strawberries
"Convey my sincere thanks to you, please," she asked, without another word. He wanted to end this confusing encounter quickly. Every time he looked at her face, which was so beautiful he didn't see anything special, he remembered her boldly smiling features in her garden at night... where she was straightening up in the arms of one man and looking into the eyes of another.
He had barely turned after a silent farewell that had consumed his wandering thoughts, until her softly speaking voice stopped him. "I also wanted to thank you for bringing the scarf with you from London. This was a polite thing for a gentleman like you."
Somehow, he felt as if she was hinting at something else. As if she was trying to make him feel embarrassed because he hadn't given her the scarf himself. As if she wanted to tell him that this was an impolite thing for a gentleman like him!
"I was pleased, Mrs. Palum." That was all he said without so much as a glance at her, before he started back on his way. It was a rude act that he shouldn't have done, but he felt nervous and wanted to bury it before her suspicious eyes read it, making him feel as if they had seen right through him, making him look shaken and like he had never seen a woman before .
Truth be told, he had never seen a woman like her. She was beautiful, but her beauty was contrary to his standards. She was bold, and this went against the standard of shyness that every woman should possess in his eyes. She was strange, like a puzzle that his mind could not solve.
The smell of lunch filled the house when Louis entered the kitchen door, his face scowling, lost in the depths of his thoughts, which were distracted by Albert's voice, who turned to him with a small smile.
She conveys her profound thanks. He began in a dry tone that expressed hidden annoyance that accompanied him as he crossed the two flights of stairs that led him towards the rest of the house, Albert's insistent, loud voice following in
its fleeing tails.
"You will love her, Louis. If you know her, you will love her." But he was certain that this was impossible to happen .