breeze

Neither summer nor winter have come as promised.

Her gaze returns to the dresser. The letter that came that morning still lies there.

I mended this dress just this afternoon. Look at the sequins I sewed on!

Are you finally reading the letter? I'll fetch a letter opener.

No need. I already have it open...

Mr. Counsell! Stop Miss Grace!

Huh?

*Pant* I-I'm out of breath... *pant* hurry...

Have the new manservant clean this up.

Out of my way!

The banquet is about to start, Miss Grace. As a servant of the Arizonas, I can't let you run around like this.

What is this about?

I said out of my way!

What happened? I can't decide whether to obey unless you tell me.

A Messenger went into the forest and found some...

There was a girl was carrying a pile of letters. Nothing written on them, except the sender and recipient. I'm the recipient, and the sender was...

Marianne... it was two weeks ago.

...My condolences, Miss Grace.

It's all my fault.

I assure you it is not. I witnessed your efforts with my very own eyes.

Did you now? And what precisely have I done?

From the very beginning, I knew nothing of what they were dealing with.

I could empathize with their suffering, but only on the surface. I just assumed someone would help them, that it would get better.

For the past few months, all I've done is play the role of the young lady of the house, while writing a few letters in my spare time. None of which amounted to anything.

But when I finally met them directly these past few days, I realized that what I had empathized with was less than a fraction of their real pain and suffering.

They need help, Counsell. They shouldn't end up like Marianne.

It's not your place to do so. You're the daughter of the Arizonas.

This isn't the place to stand on status. We're all equal before such suffering.

Do the baron and baroness know of this?

No. I was afraid they would be angry, and make it even harder to do anything.

Perhaps you could tell them once they return.

...No.

I heard something about Father and Mother today.

I don't think they're any different from the people I wrote to, seeking help...

Love and kindness are mere illusions when it comes to nobles... even Dr. Siew lied to me.

But at least he suggested to go among them and check up on their health, to give them some basic advice about medicine.

I even noticed that some of them had gotten better when I visited them today.

That sort of thing is what's really worth doing... to me, at least.

Why should I wait for others to act? I can't entrust these people's lives and hopes to others. I can't keep fooling myself and putting things off.

Miss Grace, we should wait for your parents to—

How long am I supposed to wait?!

My friend is dead! While she was struggling on the brink of death, I was busy socializing, busy watching my words, busy managing Arizona's relationships with other nobles!

Do I have to stay at home, asking for help in proper, dignified, <i>useless</i> ways, while I watch those who trusted in me get lynched?

Is nobility meant to be a shackle, Counsell?

Maintaining proper etiquette in your social life is all for the sake of the Arizona family's honor and reputation. If it can regain its former glory, it can shine its light on yet more people.

They don't have the time. Neither do I.

They were forced to wander because they lost their land. And they'll die slowly while I enjoy the comfort of high society, just as Marianne did...

What's the point of it all, if the favor of these nobles has to be earned at every turn? If I can bring them back to health, they'll light their own torch, find their own way in the darkness.

Miss Grace...

I'm sorry, Counsell. I'm not angry at you.

I just needed to vent, like how some people turn to drinking or hunting.

I need to do something. I can't live like this without changing.

Let me do something useful, in what few days I have.

Very well, then. You should start by reading these then.

These are...

From the manor library. You remember them, don't you? The baron's translation, which you've flipped through so many times.

There will always be little details that slip your mind, of course. Bring them along for reference.

Counsell...

I've seen this play before. I can't stop you.

I'll tell them I couldn't catch you. Just don't let it slip that I let you go on purpose.

...Thank you.

Hold on, Miss Grace.

You're not going back on your words, are you?

I visited Dr. Siew to retrieve the trinket you 'forgot' on his door.

He told me that if I ever saw the young lady's Vulpo 'friend,' I should tell her that he most definitely did not forget to close the clinic's window, and certainly did not leave various medicines and supplies on the table.

I see...

There will be no hiding your little sojourn. Have you thought about what you'll do when your father returns? I doubt arguing will help the matter.

I'll apologize. I'm not ready to argue with him yet.

Be careful, and keep your identity a secret.

Thank you, Counsell.

Is Miss Grace still in the library?

Yes. It's like she's a whole different person.

I only regret that I might have cost you your job.

My job? Miss Grace has been spending her days in the library rather than sneaking out. Why would I lose my job?

A single meaningful journey is worth a thousand frivolous trips. She's not the little girl she once was.

Thank goodness for that.

Aren't you concerned?

If that's her choice, then her light shouldn't belong to me alone.

You...

Her light, is it?

Counsell gazes to the west and sees the light of the setting sun fall on the floor of the Arizona Manor.

Old memories rise to the surface.

She's your daughter alright, Henry.