Maylily - Chapter 15

Today, Maylily wore a dull-colored dress again and moved cautiously, her gaze fixed on the trolley. A brown-haired woman who appeared to be a fellow member walked beside her but did not lend a hand.

They were heading toward a long table occupying one side of the hall. It seemed they were about to place glasses on the part of the table prepared with champagne, non-alcoholic drinks, and colorful finger foods.

“I was so surprised when I read the article saying you’d acquired the Almera Hotel.”

“Me too. To achieve something everyone said was impossible… you’re truly remarkable, sir.”

Hugh turned his gaze from the distance to Lady and Miss Pellen, who stood beside him. They were praising Hugh’s achievements in Cartia, trying hard to win his favor just before his return to Riverton earlier that year.

“My business in Cartia has only just taken its first steps. Please save the compliments for later.”

Though the unwanted attention was a bit of a nuisance, Hugh responded with a gentlemanly smile so their efforts wouldn’t be in vain. Then, when he turned his gaze again, it landed on Maylily, just beyond Miss Pellen’s shoulder.

As Maylily looked around, nearing her destination, the brown-haired woman next to her subtly stuck out her foot. Caught off guard, Maylily stumbled and fell, and the trolley toppled over.

Crash.

The glasses on the trolley tumbled to the floor and shattered with a loud crash. A wave of silence followed, swallowing all conversation in the hall. Everyone turned their attention to Maylily, who was sprawled among the scattered glass shards.

“Oh no…”

Maylily’s tearful voice was faint, yet it rang clearly in Hugh’s ears. The brown-haired woman, standing a little apart from Maylily as she hurried to get up, was silently smirking.

As Hugh turned his head a bit more, he spotted other troupe members down the corridor behind the hall, watching and giggling.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Maylily, her face flushed red, bowed to the guests and hastily tried to adjust her champagne-soaked apron. Red marks appeared on the white fabric wherever her hand brushed. She must have cut herself on the broken glass while trying to get up.

“Oh dear, she looks badly hurt. Poor thing.”

Miss Pellen exclaimed in a shocked voice and subtly clutched Hugh’s arm, but his gaze remained fixed on Maylily.

The sight of a woman so devastated over such a small mistake was utterly pathetic, yet somehow beautiful. If only she would look his way for help, he might willingly extend his hand.

But contrary to that arrogant expectation, she never once looked in his direction. She simply continued silently picking up the shards of glass.

At that moment, Hugh realized that Maylily hadn’t spared a single thought for him all evening. To her, he was just one of the many guests she had to serve champagne to.

“I really hope you’ll come next week. Please.”

He knew it was a line forced out by Martin Fritz’s coaxing and not her true will. Still, the fact that he now felt this pang of resentment meant that, somewhere deep down, he had hoped there was a sliver of sincerity behind her sly plea.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized the pathetic one wasn’t her, but himself. A mere daughter of the insignificant Victor Heywood had managed to make a man with everything feel so small.

As Hugh gave a hollow laugh at the absurdity of it all, he spotted Michele Baratti stepping out from the crowd and approaching Maylily.

“Are you alright?”

With concern and kindness on his face, Michele helped the stunned Maylily to her feet. One hand gently held her blood-stained one, and the other supported her trembling shoulders as they began to walk away.

As murmurs began to ripple through the crowd, Martin Fritz swiftly stepped onto the stage and skillfully drew the audience’s attention.

“We sincerely apologize for the unexpected disturbance, honored guests. We’ll handle this quickly, so please enjoy the next performance.”

A singer in a yellow dress took the stage earlier than scheduled. As she began to sing in time with the orchestra, Maylily quickly faded from everyone’s attention.

Meanwhile, Martin, having come down from the stage, hurried over to Hugh and whispered an explanation.

“That man is not one of ours, Count. I’ll find out who he is and make sure Maylily knows to behave accordingly…”

“I brought him. There’s no need.”

“Pardon? Ah…”

Martin looked bewildered, unsure of the situation, but quickly composed himself and bowed.

“Understood. I apologize for the commotion.”

“It’s fine. You may go.”

Seeing the faint smile on Hugh’s lips, Martin finally relaxed and turned away.

As the dazzling song filled the hall, Hugh’s eyes followed Maylily once again. She was leaving the hall with Michele Baratti, their figures looking like affectionate lovers from behind.

***

After walking for quite a while, they arrived at the infirmary door, which was firmly locked.

“Oh dear….”

No matter how much he shook it, the lock wouldn’t budge. Michele furrowed his brow deeply. Maylily, standing beside him, opened her mouth apologetically.

“I suggested coming here, thinking the door might be open…. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, so there’s no need to feel so sorry. Still, we need to treat your hand quickly….”

As Michele’s eyes filled with concern, Maylily quickly waved her good hand.

“You don’t need to worry about my hand. I’m really fine. It seems like the bleeding has stopped, too.”

Though Maylily smiled brightly, her eyes were slightly red. She must be upset about ruining an important event for the opera company.

He wanted to tell her it was okay to cry if she felt like it, but perhaps pretending not to notice was the kinder thing to do. With a sigh of inexplicable frustration, Michele shifted his gaze to her injured hand.

“Let me see your hand.”

Maylily gave a small nod and slowly opened the hand she had been holding in a fist. Was she embarrassed to show just her palm? Honestly, she made everything seem cute.

Michele stifled a chuckle and focused on her palm. Because of the clotted, splotchy blood, it was hard to tell how deep the wounds were. Since there was a risk of infection, the first thing to do was clean the area.

Glancing around, Michele gently led her to the women’s restroom.

“Can you check inside to see if it’s empty? I could take you to the men’s, but I figured this would be more comfortable for you.”

Maylily smiled prettily at the added explanation, likely to avoid misunderstanding.

“Okay, I’ll go check.”

Fortunately, since the restroom was far from the hall, it was empty. Michele brought Maylily inside, carefully washed her hand as if handling glass, and examined the wounds.

“Most of them are minor, but the cut on the edge of your hand is a bit deep. We should probably go to the hospital. There should still be a large one open.”

“I’m really okay. It doesn’t hurt much, so I can go to the hospital tomorrow on my own. You must’ve had plans at the party. I don’t want to get in the way.”

If I had plans, they would be to stick close to you and try to win you over.

“I didn’t have anything special. I just came because a friend invited me.”

“Still, meeting new people might lead to more class requests for you. Or maybe even better opportunities.”

Not wanting to go against the firm resolve in her wide eyes, Michele reluctantly nodded.

“Then I’ll at least wrap this for you.”

He then took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and gently wrapped it around her injured hand.

“You must’ve been scared. Take a break somewhere quiet. You looked like you’d been working nonstop.”

“No, I should go clean up what I left behind.”

“Do you really think it’s still sitting there?”

“Well, I suppose not.”

Maylily chuckled softly, but then her expression suddenly darkened. She lowered her head. Gazing at her wrapped hand for a moment, she spoke in a voice as faint as moonlight through a small window.

“I’m sorry, Michele.”

“I’d rather hear a thank you than an apology.”

At Michele’s teasing, Maylily lifted her eyes and looked at him.

“Thank you, Michele.”

“See? That sounds much better.”

“That’s true.”

Maylily’s smile brightened just a little more in response to Michele’s grin. In that moment, Michele sensed that a layer of the thick wall Maylily had built between them had crumbled.