A Summer With Bitter Rivals - Chapter 81

Chapter 81: Liar

Benica returned to Emeline after a few hours had passed. She brought with her the news Emeline had longed to hear.

“How is he?”

“It seems he woke up this morning.”

“…Is that so? He must’ve been asleep for an entire day.”

Emeline murmured with a somber look. Zenon didn’t seem to be in good condition.

Upon hearing Benica’s report that he would likely remain in the hospital for some time, she nodded.

As a token of appreciation, Emeline gave her a small reward and issued an instruction before sending her off.

“Find me the most tight-lipped coachman we have. I’m going out tomorrow.”

Benica bowed politely and withdrew. Knowing full well that Emeline was under disciplinary confinement, she could’ve mentioned it, but she didn’t.

The more she saw of Benica, the more Emeline liked her.

Lost briefly in thought, Emeline lowered her gaze.

Then, she opened the noisy newspaper laid before her and thought blandly,

‘…I’ll be seeing you soon, Zenon Trancium.’

Although guilt towards Zenon and remorse stirred by her father’s harsh words weighed heavily on her now, the truth was that Emeline would’ve sought him out again regardless.

There were still things she wanted to find out.

Unlike the day before, Emeline calmly flipped through the newspaper talking about the Edelroa exhibit.

***

“Prepare for an outing.”

“L-Lady? But you’re currently under disciplinary confinement…”

“Angel asked to meet outside. What can I do when the appointment’s already set? Father likely gave his permission too.”

From early in the morning, Emeline prompted the servants and finished her preparations for the outing.

It was a lie, of course, but sharp-witted Angel would surely play along without delay.

After leaving the mansion, Emeline boarded the carriage. At the ready was the tight-lipped coachman Benica had selected.

“If everything’s ready, let’s go.”

The coachman, who had already received the destination from Benica, set the carriage in motion.

On the way, Emeline stopped briefly to purchase a bouquet as a gesture of courtesy for the visit.

After some time, the carriage arrived at the hospital where Zenon had been admitted.

She took a deep breath of the cool air and glanced around.

‘…There’s probably someone keeping watch.’

Emeline scanned her surroundings cautiously, then made her way inside the hospital.

The reason she had gone through the trouble of finding a discreet coachman was that even if Antony found out, he likely wouldn’t report it to her father immediately.

He hadn’t said a word to her father about everything that had happened so far.

‘If I just get indoors and lock the door and windows properly, I might be able to escape surveillance.’

With the brimmed hat pulled low to cover her face, Emeline entered the hospital. The lace on her hat completely shielded her face.

She asked a nurse and located the room where Zenon was recovering.

Finally standing before his room, Emeline took a deep breath.

She worried someone else might’ve come to see him first, but fortunately, she sensed no presence inside the room.

Emeline slowly raised her hand and knocked.

No answer came, so she knocked again, prompting a response asking who it was.

Upon hearing Zenon’s hoarse voice, Emeline considered giving her name but simply opened the door and entered.

Zenon, who had been reading the newspaper with a disinterested expression, looked up. When their eyes met, his widened slightly.

Emeline, feeling a sudden and inexplicable embarrassment, averted her gaze and greeted him.

“…Hello, Zenon Trancium.”

The silence in the hospital room made the awkwardness unbearable.

Before she realized it, Emeline found herself approaching him hesitantly. Nothing she did felt natural.

Zenon stared at her in silence.

His prolonged silence prompted Emeline to speak quickly.

“You don’t hate flowers, do you? I avoided roses on purpose. I figured you might be tired of them.”

After deliberately keeping her tone neutral, she looked around the room.

As she searched for a place to put the flowers, the spacious and pleasant hospital room felt oddly empty.

Emeline spotted an empty vase on the nearby table, arranged the flowers, and placed them in it.

Then she set her brimmed hat down on the table and looked at Zenon.

He had been quietly watching her every move from the start.

He was so silent it made her wonder if he’d developed aphasia.

Emeline slowly scanned his condition with her eyes.

A large bandage covered the forehead where it had bled from a scrape, and one arm and leg were in casts, supported by splints. Other small injuries also stood out.

Her chest ached, and she clenched her hands together tightly. At that moment, her father’s harsh accusations echoed in her mind, leaving her even more uneasy.

With heavy steps, Emeline approached him.

“Um, about last time—”

“Why did you come here.”

“…Huh?”

Zenon’s abrupt words left Emeline stunned.

She was even more taken aback because it was the first thing he had said since she arrived.

Perhaps still feeling the aftereffects of the accident, Zenon looked pale as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His low voice carried a faint heaviness.

Emeline was momentarily flustered, but soon regained her composure.

“You saved me, so I came to thank you and apologize.”

“…Did you get permission from your family?”

The unexpected question caught her off guard again. Naturally, she hadn’t received any permission.

“…I said I was going out to meet Angel.”

“So you didn’t get permission.”

“Why would I need it? I only came to show sincerity to the person who saved me.”

At that, he set aside the newspaper in his hands and looked at her with a helpless gaze.

“What if His Grace finds out you came here?”

“…Then I’ll just get scolded, there’s no helping it.”

Her offhand response, made in the awkward silence, caused Zenon’s handsome brows to furrow.

Even though Emeline wasn’t concerned, he clearly was.

He let out a sigh and began to speak in a voice tinged with irritation.

“‘There’s no helping it’? Why are you so indifferent about your own affairs?”

“Indifferent…”

“What will you do if something happens? You said yourself you’d be punished by your father if caught. What if something happens again like last time…”

As if frustrated, he trailed off mid-sentence. Emeline tilted her head slightly, puzzled. The conversation seemed to be veering into strange territory.

“Again?”

Suddenly, Zenon clammed up like someone caught off guard. Whatever that word meant, his face held the expression of someone whose weakness had been exposed.

There had only been one moment in the past when he’d shown Emeline a face like that—

When he revealed a wound he didn’t want her to see.

Emeline found herself increasingly curious about the hidden depths behind his ever-changing behavior.

Why had he acted like he would love her endlessly four years ago, only to abruptly cast her aside? And now, upon reuniting, why had he come close again, spouting cruel words?

“Emeline Delzeier… Do you still like me?”

And that day, why had he looked so dangerously unstable?

Mustering her courage, Emeline stepped closer and sat in the chair beside his bed. Zenon’s eyes met hers.

After much deliberation, she asked, “Did Lady Fendine visit you?”

“…She did.”

“Then how come there aren’t any flowers? Who comes to visit a patient and brings nothing?”

Zenon’s face darkened at her subtle jab. He remained silent for a while, then furrowed his brows in what seemed like resignation.

“Fine. She didn’t come. But I don’t understand why you’re asking me this.”

“You said before that things were good between you and your fiancée. Why did you lie to me about that?”

Once again, Zenon hesitated to answer. His expression visibly wavered. There was a tense feeling, as if the truth was just within reach.

Emeline, tired of waiting, continued, “Zenon Trancium, did you know it was Lady Fendine who slapped me?”

“…What?”

Zenon’s gaze, which had been fixed elsewhere, slid sharply toward her.

“Seems like this is your first time hearing it. That your fiancée and I fought. So much for being close… I guess she didn’t tell you everything? Though, considering I hit her back, it’d be hard not to know.”

“…Labore hit you? Then the scar I saw back then…”

Emeline carefully examined Zenon’s furrowed expression.

‘Look at you. You’re not even thinking about your fiancée. You’re only worried about the fact that I got hurt.’

And yet he claimed to be on good terms with her? Said he was doing well with her?

Liar.

He’s just been lying all along.

Emeline added in a subdued voice, “I hit her back.”

“……”

“Does that still make me someone who jumped to conclusions? Considering what I saw that day—and what led to that fight with Lady Fendine, you too—”

“Emeline Delzeier.”

Zenon interrupted her in a low voice.

His already darkened expression had turned cold.

Letting out a long sigh, he reached over to the nightstand and took out a cigarette. Emeline’s brows twitched at the sight.

Even with a cast on one arm, Zenon expertly placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

After inhaling a puff and exhaling smoke, he stared at her. His green eyes, usually hiding old wounds, now looked more irritable and on edge than ever.

Slowly, Zenon opened his mouth.

“What… do you even think I am.”

Wincing at the smoke and smell of the cigarette, Emeline looked into his eyes through the hazy air.

Zenon’s gaze seemed to say: stop poking around and just leave already.

Emeline gave a dry laugh, taken aback. Did he think cigarettes were some kind of weapon to drive her away?

Her mood soured instantly. Acting on impulse, she stood up and sat herself down on the edge of his bed.

Then, reaching out, she snatched the cigarette from his mouth.

Locking eyes with Zenon Trancium, she slowly brought the lit cigarette to her lips. Then, just as he had done, she inhaled.

The acrid, burning smoke instantly overwhelmed her, and she began coughing uncontrollably.

“What are you doing?!”

Zenon, alarmed, quickly grabbed the cigarette from her hand and tossed it into the ashtray.

Tears welled in Emeline’s eyes as she coughed again and again.

Zenon exhaled in panic and urgently handed her a glass of water from nearby.

Emeline pushed the glass away. Instead, she grabbed his wrist.

Breathing heavily but more steadily, she looked up at him. After a few silent movements of her lips, she finally spoke in a muffled voice.

“What about you? What do you think of me, Zenon Trancium?”

“……”

She tightened her grip on his wrist. Though discomfort showed in his eyes, Zenon didn’t look away.

Struggling to speak, Emeline swallowed hard. Then, in a trembling voice, she asked, “It’s what I want to know. Do you… like me?”