Alcohol is a good thing; it can make one forget everything. He thought there was something wrong with his ears, for amidst the clamor of the banquet and the sound of instruments, he could hear that familiar melody, as if a light floral scent had wafted by.
Since the dinner began, he had already been poured quite a bit of wine, so he couldn’t confirm whether his mind was clear. Perhaps this was just his hallucination, as he had been listening to this piece so much these days that his ears were almost calloused. Yet, he still staggered towards the source of the music.
When he reached the door of the study and clearly heard the melody coming from behind the tightly shut door, a smirk crept onto his lips, a wicked smile. His golden hair was a bit disheveled, and his body felt unsteady. He leaned one arm against the door panel and tugged at the tie around his neck.
Yes, he must be drunk; otherwise, he wouldn’t feel so hot all over. If something happened tonight, he wouldn’t have to blame himself; it was all because of that damned alcohol. With that thought, he gently pushed open the door to the study.
The smile on his face froze instantly when he saw her at the piano. Beside her sat a boy with flaxen hair, a boy he recognized as the old gardener Sean’s little helper. He had only heard Sean say that this child was quite nimble, even though he was a Jew. The boy rested his chin on his hand, intently listening to her play.
As she played softly, she smiled sweetly at the boy. He stood a few meters away, but it was the first time he had seen her smile so closely…
In an instant, the drunkenness he had been brewing vanished, as if a searing flame was burning within him. Why was her smile so beautiful, so lovely, that it stirred a man’s impulse to cherish her? The scene that had just unfolded in the garden left him quite displeased, but that was his old partner; he had tried his best not to hold it against her. She shouldn’t be smiling at a boy like that.
Anger burned uncontrollably within him, and the alcohol he had swallowed, now mingled with his blood, intensified that fire. But what doused this anger was a chilling fear that surged from deep within him.
He suddenly felt an unprecedented fear because he knew he was jealous—so starkly, so nakedly jealous. Anger itself was not terrifying, nor was jealousy, but what was terrifying was the fact hidden beneath that jealousy.
How ridiculous; this must be his illusion. He forced a smile, masking his grimace. His steps were chaotic when he arrived, but they were unusually clear as he left.
By midnight, she had washed all the dishes and arranged them neatly. It was already 4 AM. , exhausted, collapsed onto her bed and immediately fell into a deep sleep. When she opened her eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. She rolled out of bed, opened the small iron door a crack, and glanced at the clock in the center of the basement. Oh my! It was already 9 AM.
She quickly put on her clothes and shoes, set a towel in the basin, and washed her face. She felt that today was somehow different from usual. It was very quiet outside; perhaps the servants were too tired after last night’s late work, and no one was up early. Otherwise, how could allow her to sleep in this late?
Yet, she still felt that something was off. Khanyi subconsciously glanced at the half-open windowsill. The table was empty, with no flowers. Could it be that “little monkey” had celebrated his birthday last night and was still sleeping in, forgetting to bring her flowers? She needed to tell him that sending flowers to a lady should be a daily commitment; missing even one day was unacceptable. She couldn’t forgive him.
She tiptoed up the stairs. There was no one in the hall. She stepped out the front door and walked towards the flowerbed. From a distance, she saw that the flowerbed was quite lively; the servants had gathered in a circle. It turned out everyone was already up, and she was the only one who had slept in.
She heard Abigail’s voice, sounding unusual, “Stop looking and get back to work.”
A sudden sense of foreboding surged in Khanyi’s heart. She quickened her pace to look into the crowd, where Abigail and several maids, the cook, and Uncle Sean were gathered, but he was nowhere to be found…
Uncle Sean’s strong shoulders looked a bit slumped. “Poor child, he fell from the rack. I told him long ago that the rack wasn’t stable.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Finally, she pushed her way into the crowd to see the center of the circle.
