The Opposite of Indifference - Chapter 4

Five days before the grand banquet, an unexpected stroke of luck arrived. Without any groundwork on her part, the target approached Millicent first.

“Are you the maid named Millicent?”

She had been tending to golden orchids and pinks along a garden path. The palace gardener had been relentless in demanding that the gardens be in perfect condition for the distinguished guests attending the banquet.

And yet, rather than helping, someone had approached to bother her.

“I am one of Her Majesty the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting.”

Millicent immediately recognized her.

Charlotte Brennan.

She looked like a hungry squirrel. Her frame was incredibly petite. Even in exceptionally high heels, the hem of her pink gown dragged along the dirt path.

Still, her proportions were elegant. Seen from afar, she could easily pass as a refined young lady.

Millicent, who had been crouching, quickly stood up.

“I heard you can read fate with cards.”

Charlotte was holding a mottled-furred wolfhound puppy in her arms. It was one of Queen Jadalin’s dogs. She must have been taking it for a walk in her place.

“Here, go play elsewhere. Jaby. No, Gravy.”

She carelessly shook the puppy out of her arms as if it were a nuisance.

“Whatever your name is, just don’t come near me, you stupid beast.”

As the wolfhound sniffed the air of the unfamiliar world, Charlotte dusted off her gown with her hands.

“I hate furry creatures. Is Her Majesty deliberately saddling me with this thing?”

She grumbled incessantly.

Millicent, on the other hand, liked dogs. She watched as the puppy scurried about on its short legs. Animals were simple and had never harmed her.

Unlike humans, who were overly complicated and inflicted harm far too often.

“Read my fortune too.”

Charlotte snapped her fingers in front of Millicent’s face.

“I’ve seen every astrologer in the capital, and none of them are any good. They all say the same boring things—it’s tiresome.”

She pouted her pink-painted lips like a spoiled child.

“You seem more interesting.”

“What kind of fortune do you want?”

“Love. Success. Maybe both together.”

So, the rumor that the king was selecting a Royal Mistress had already spread through the court. Charlotte’s brown eyes gleamed with ambition.

“Have you ever seen His Majesty?”

“No.”

“He is magnificent.”

Charlotte spoke as if lost in a fantasy.

“Of course, the things he could give me are far more magnificent.”

She concluded her admiration with a touch of practical calculation.

“Come to the Queen’s Palace after dinner tonight.”

She didn’t even wait for Millicent’s answer.

“We’ll be practicing the dance for the masquerade.”

Charlotte assumed her acceptance as a given. Still, it wasn’t a bad proposal. It was an opportunity to improvise a plan.

“One more thing.”

As Millicent bent her knees again, Charlotte added.

“Tell me what the main dish at the banquet will be.”

She smirked cunningly.

“You frequent the kitchen and manage the food stores, don’t you?”

“They told me not to spread the word,” Millicent answered blankly.

“I want to know.”

Charlotte’s tone turned imperious in an instant.

“Unless you want a beating, tell me now.”

As if anyone would be afraid of a rude noble girl swathed in a flowing pink gown. Millicent smirked.

That was a slight mistake.

Even a naive noblewoman had animal instincts. Charlotte hesitated, her expression flickering with unease.

Her mother had always emphasized: Mind how you smile. You must engage both your eyes and mouth to appear normal.

Millicent still found it difficult to follow that lesson.

“If you truly wish to know…”

To prevent rumors from spreading about the strange-eyed maid, Millicent quickly corrected herself.

“I happened to lose my wages last week.”

Charlotte understood immediately.

“Hah, maids.”

Once she saw something familiar in Millicent’s response, she relaxed. She handed over a bracelet—thin, but gold-plated, with tiny sapphires embedded in it.

“If you read my fortune well, I might give you more.”

Charlotte teased enticingly.

“It’s lark.”

Millicent answered without hesitation, though she doubted knowing the banquet’s menu was worth this much.

“Ortolan, huh? How tragic. I love larks.”

Charlotte’s face showed no sign of sadness, yet she spoke as if it did.

“Don’t forget to come tonight.”

Then, as if forgetting the simple fact that she had to take the puppy back with her, Charlotte abruptly left.

Millicent picked up the wolfhound puppy, which had gotten dirty from rolling around, and held it in her arms.

She had once seen Queen Jadalin bury her nose in the pup’s fur. She tried the same. It was soft and warm.

“Hey, what are you doing just standing there? Hurry up!”

The palace gardener, sounding on the verge of a nervous breakdown, shouted at her.

“Lady Charlotte left behind Her Majesty the Queen’s dog.”

Millicent flung the detestable trowel aside.

“I should go after her and return it.”

The gardener could only groan in frustration, unable to argue.

The traces of winter had left behind a refreshing atmosphere. As the surroundings grew quieter, Millicent let the squirming puppy down and took in the scent of the budding spring.

But then, the puppy, which had been calmly trotting ahead, suddenly veered off the path, dashing up the hill where a grand forest had been cultivated within the palace grounds. Millicent followed after it.

The longer she was delayed by the queen’s dog, the less maid work she had to do—hardly a bad trade.

“You are…?”

At last, where the puppy stopped, she encountered an unexpected figure. The very man rumored to be so breathtakingly handsome that people fainted at the mere sight of him.

He was sitting on the grass. Once again, he was dressed in rather luxurious clothes, yet he didn’t seem to care that they would get dirty.

The queen’s dog wagged its tail, circling his feet. It seemed just as pleased as if it had met someone it knew well.

“Oh, it’s that fraud.”

“First a hunter, now a fraud?”

Tucking the ornate golden locket around his neck into his linen shirt, the man chuckled incredulously.

“Of course, you’re a fraud! Because of you, I lost my wages last week.”

What luck. Millicent unleashed her fury like a storm.

“You took far more than the cost of two deer! And you didn’t even write a receipt! Not to mention, I wasn’t supposed to receive venison in the first place!”

“I simply played along with your performance.”

The man replied shamelessly.

She was irritated. Should she just kill him? Millicent seriously considered it. Almost instinctively, she confirmed that there were no onlookers nearby and felt the knife hidden in her clothes.

“My, what a terrifying expression.”

Seeing how quickly her gaze had turned icy, he clicked his tongue.

“I apologize. It was the first time I’d ever met someone as peculiar as you. I got caught up in the moment.”

Then, he pulled out a thin chain from his pocket.

“I was worried you might have gotten into trouble… It’s a relief that we ran into each other again. This should be enough compensation, don’t you think?”

Caught off guard, she accepted it and widened her eyes. It was a finely crafted golden timepiece—far more valuable than a maid’s weekly wages.

“Does no one around here have a proper sense of money?”

Recalling the bracelet she had received from Charlotte earlier, Millicent clicked her tongue.

“And does everyone in this place barter instead of carrying actual money? Honestly…”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. You’re forgiven, I suppose.”

Since he was willing to overcompensate, there was no reason to refuse. Millicent stopped grumbling.

“Wait a moment—what’s wrong with your face?”

Only then did she properly look at him. He was just as handsome as before, but today, curiously, his lips were smeared with a deep red stain.

“You must have been starving.”

Millicent remarked in understanding.

“But eating raw game like that? You’ll get an upset stomach. Not to mention, it looks awful.”

She tutted.

“Honestly, even I wouldn’t do that…”

Well, she had tried once. Though all she got for her trouble was a scolding and failure.

“That’s not what this is.”

A beat late in understanding, the man laughed.

“This isn’t animal blood…”

He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“It’s, well…”

As if whatever truth he was about to reveal was worse than having blood on his face, he hesitated.

“It’s pudding.”

“What?”

“I ate custard pudding. With plums. The juice dripped everywhere, so now I look like this.”

He shook his head.

“Why were you hiding the fact that you ate pudding?”

“It’s not a sight I want others to see.”

As Millicent failed to grasp his reasoning, he elaborated.

“Let’s just say a man who looks like me isn’t expected to enjoy such desserts.”

“What does appearance have to do with what you eat?”

Even in front of the High Priest, Millicent wouldn’t hesitate to tear apart a whole roasted chicken, so she still didn’t understand his reluctance.

“Ah! You stole it from the palace kitchen, didn’t you? That’s why you’re flustered!”

Instead, she came up with a far more plausible guess.

“That’s not…”

The man began to protest but then muttered to himself.

“…Since I did sneak it out, you’re not entirely wrong.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tattle on you.”

Not that she was even listening to his response.

“I sneak food sometimes too. If I only ate what I was given, I’d starve to death.”

She pulled out a bunch of grapes she had swiped that morning, slipping them into her apron pocket while avoiding the head maid’s watchful eyes. Of course, she had no intention of sharing.

“Anyway, Miss Smith…”

“Who’s that?”

“You said your name was Millicent Smith, didn’t you?”

She had completely forgotten about that awful name she had made up.

“…Just call me Millicent.”

The man let out a short laugh.

“If it’s a made-up name, it doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“That’s right.”

Millicent shrugged.

“Anyway, Millicent, I’d prefer if you didn’t go around telling people that I was secretly eating pudding here.”

“I don’t know anything about you except that you’re a hunter and your name is Phineas. Who would I even tell?”

“My name isn’t Phineas, and I’m not a hunter…”

He sighed as he began to correct her but then suddenly stopped.

“I wanted to ask this before… Aren’t you afraid of me?”

She had no idea why he kept saying such incomprehensible things.

He was obviously strikingly handsome, and his expression was as cold as a stone wall. But that wasn’t a reason to be scared.

“No. Not at all.”

“That’s a relief.”

The man smiled.

“My name is Freddie.”

“The name that doesn’t suit you, so no one calls you that.”

Millicent finally remembered.

“Are you actually a hunter, then?”

“That’s wrong too. You mistook me for one, and I just went along with it.”

“So you never had a mustache in the first place?”

“…Mustache?”

He repeated the word as if confused. Millicent didn’t answer, too busy thinking about the real hunter whom the old maid Tracy had likely torn into unjustly.

“Wait, then what are you? If not a hunter?”

Only now did suspicion start to creep in.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Next time we meet.”

The man gave an enigmatic smile. Then, with one hand, he effortlessly lifted the whining wolfhound puppy that had been clinging to him for attention.

“I’ll take Tabby to the queen myself.”

“Tabby?”

“You carried him all the way here and don’t even know his name?”

He gestured toward the puppy.

“Lady Charlotte called him Jaby or Gravy. At least, until she completely forgot about him while taking him for a walk.”

“Charlotte Brennan hates animals, so that makes sense.”

The man spoke as if he knew court ladies well.

“She’s the type to smack her lips while talking about making coats out of fur pelts.”

His expression turned vaguely displeased.

“That’s unfortunate. I like animals.”

Millicent spoke whatever came to mind.

“I’ve never raised one, though. Actually, I’ve barely even been around them.”

“Why not?”

“The man who took me in wouldn’t allow it.”

The butcher’s son, Mr. Mullery, had always kept dogs and cats away from her.

He claimed it was because his shop was full of meat that would tempt them… But Millicent still vividly remembered the worried look in his eyes.

“…I think he was afraid I’d kill them.”

For Mr. Mullery, it had been a reasonable precaution.

“Why would he think that?”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“He worried too much.”

Millicent tightened the ribbon under her chin and deflected the question.

“So you must be the type to make a lot of mistakes.”

The man remarked, interpreting it in the most nonchalant way possible.

“Well then, I’ll see you next time, Millicent.”

Only when the man, carrying the puppy in his arms, disappeared into the distance did Millicent realize she had let him go too easily—just because he had vaguely promised she would find out his identity soon.

But she wasn’t the least bit curious about how he had managed to steal food from the palace kitchen, how he instantly recognized the queen’s dog, or why he spoke as though it was only natural that he should return it to her.