I Ran Away And The Reverse Harem Started Chapter 111

“Yes? Oh, there are more? I was curious…”

I quickly nodded.

Yvette immediately headed to the corner of the gallery. There, various unknown items were stacked and covered in dark cloths.

She rummaged through the cloths, seemingly checking their contents, and then pulled out something rectangular.

“This is the last family portrait we had painted. It was done while we were living in Jensen—we invited an artist to the house.”

She placed it on an easel and pulled down the velvet cloth. The fabric fell softly to the floor.

I stared at the portrait as if spellbound.

Against the backdrop of a green room, four people gazed straight ahead. The room was filled with warm yellow light, and they all looked affectionate.

I know very little about art, but there was one thing I could say for certain.

‘…All four of them look truly happy.’

Sunlight pouring in warmly, a cozy room. The four of them smiling brightly. Their cheeks were full of life.

This time, Madam Büllossen was holding Yvette on her lap. The viscount, clearly a man of presence, stood to their left, cradling the second daughter comfortably in his arms.

The scene looked deeply harmonious.

And the face of the second daughter…

“She’s smiling in the painting, but actually, Irene couldn’t sit still for even a moment. She cried the whole time, so the artist had to imagine what her smile might look like.”

“Ah, I see. So you remember that time?”

“No, not at all. I only know from what my parents told me.”

In the painting, the little girl had wavy red hair braided into two pigtails and wore a radiant smile.

Her bluish-purple eyes sparkled with energy. It was hard to tell whether that glow was due to the faded paint over the decades or because of how the artist captured the sunlight streaming into the room.

Then, Yvette, who stood beside me, quietly murmured,

“And the reason I showed you this portrait, Miss Rosieta, is connected to the reason I called you here today. That favor I mentioned before.”

Her words snapped me out of the trance the painting had put me in.

I turned my head toward her.

 

 

 

****

 

 

After viewing the portrait together, Yvette asked for a private conversation with me. So, we sent Colin and the butler back to the parlor for a while and the two of us headed to the back garden.

It was a small garden filled with deep blue hydrangeas and a small white gazebo with a pointed roof.

“What is it that you’d like to ask of me?”

“I’ve spent several days and nights wondering if I should even ask you this…”

At my question, Yvette fell silent, her expression dark. Even after a few seconds, she only parted her lips slightly. Just what kind of favor was she hesitating so much to ask?

I had declined the tea she offered, so my lips were parched—I wet them with my tongue. Then, I suddenly spoke up.

“If it’s hard for you to bring it up, should I start instead? Sometimes small talk can help open things up.”

Yvette was clearly struggling to find the words. To be honest, if this went on much longer, I thought I might suffocate from the silence.

I figured starting with something trivial might help break this awkward and stifling atmosphere.

At my suggestion, Yvette looked at me with a baffled expression, her serious look faltering.

“No, that’s not necessary… I’m the one who called you here with a reason. I can’t make you do something like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I want to. It’s a lovely day, and this pretty gazebo makes for a nice setting, doesn’t it?”

Yvette still looked unsure. Before she could stop me, I picked a topic in my head and spoke.

“Oh, a few days ago, you mentioned you ate the desserts Lucas and I picked out, right?”

“Yes? Ah, yes. That’s right.”

“Which one did you like best?”

“…I’m not very familiar with desserts. And I was eating while working, so I can’t clearly remember what was what.”

Though she seemed slightly flustered, she still answered politely. I smiled faintly.

“Your mother mentioned she didn’t think you’d like sweet things. So we chose lemon and almond financiers. A few slices of fig pie too.”

“I see.”

“But do you really not like sweets?”

Yvette raised her eyebrows, as if wondering what I meant. I continued, gently.

“Sometimes that happens. Even among family, people don’t always know each other’s likes and dislikes.”

“…”

“Maybe it’s because tastes change often, and they don’t share that with their family. Or maybe it’s because they’re too busy to spend time together.”

“Do we come across that way? Like a cold family that doesn’t care for one another?”

“I didn’t mean that. And I don’t think that kind of family is bad. I mean, I’m sure even you don’t know everything about your family. I don’t either.”

Yvette stared at me. I exaggerated a shrug on purpose, then smoothly began telling her a little about myself.

“I was an orphan. Lived at Hollis Orphanage until I was 13. After a fire, I bounced around villages. I ended up with a new family and lived with them for over ten years… When I hadn’t been with Lynne’s family for long, Uncle Hans brought home a lemon custard pie. Lynne’s father.”

“Yes.”

“I devoured the whole thing in one go. Ever since, Uncle Hans has bought a lemon custard pie for my birthday every year for the past ten years!”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Yvette tilted her head. I smiled warmly.

“Well, the truth is… I don’t really like lemon. I prefer strawberry or peach. They’re sweeter and tastier. I only ate the whole pie back then because I was just a hungry little orphan girl. I was scared someone might take it away if I didn’t eat fast.”

“…”

“But I doubt Uncle Hans knows that. He just thinks, ‘Rosieta loves lemon custard pie,’ and every time he sees one in town, he probably thinks of me. For ten whole years.”

“I see. He sounds like a warm-hearted man.”

“He is. But in the end, he doesn’t know my tastes. Even though we’re family. Still, sometimes I think that kind of thing is what affection is. Thinking of someone when you see something.”

Yvette quietly clasped her hands. I watched her fingers as she hesitated, then finally spoke.

“Well, I’ve never explicitly told my mother my preferences, but I don’t particularly like sweet desserts. Fortunately, the ones you and Mr. Lucas picked were quite enjoyable.”

“Oh, I’m really glad to hear that.”

“And while I don’t eat sweet desserts, I do enjoy sugar in my milk tea.”

She raised her head and looked at me. After a moment of thought, Yvette nodded lightly.

“I think you’re right. My mother probably doesn’t know how I like my milk tea. Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since I’ve had tea with her. We’ve both been so busy.”

“You can’t know everything about your family.”

I chuckled.

“But your mother seemed very thoughtful. She went out of her way to buy snacks for you, even though she’s a noble. I think that’s affection.”

“Yes, I suppose. My mother loves her family. As do I.”

“Feeling more comfortable now?”

I tilted my head and asked. Yvette raised an eyebrow.

“Hard to say. You’re the one who’s been doing all the talking.”

“Haha.”

Yvette, who had been frowning slightly in annoyance, suddenly let out a small laugh. I stared at her wide-eyed.

‘…Has Yvette ever smiled like that in front of me before?’

She had always kept her distance with a cold and expressionless face. This was the first time I’d seen her smile.

But just as quickly, her smile faded. I couldn’t help but sigh inwardly at the loss.

“Maybe it’s only natural. Our family loves one another, but we’ve never had the emotional space to share such things like our preferences.”

“Yeah… I get it.”

“I didn’t want to frivolously share desserts and tea while we were still grieving the loss of a family member. I believed it wasn’t right to do so. My mother feared that nobles would gossip every time I appeared happy, since I was different from her.”

“That’s… unreasonable. Even if you lost a child, you can’t live the rest of your life like a walking corpse… and it’s been a long time.”

“People don’t see it that way. But.”

She paused, exhaling deeply. Her blue eyes darkened, as if she were recalling something.

“That day, when my mother came back from the dessert shop, she said… she didn’t want to live under the eyes of others anymore. That we needed to be happy, even now.”

“…Ah.”

I hesitated, unsure whether I should say I supported Madam Büllossen. I believed she deserved support, of course, but Yvette’s face was twisted with pain.

“And… my parents told me they’re going to stop searching for Irene. They used to live holding onto that tiny bit of hope…”

“I see…”

“It’s because of me. They saw how I was struggling to balance the business and the search for Irene. I think they thought I was wasting my youth, obsessed. So they gave up first, hoping I could move on. All because they want me to live well.”

Yvette’s tone carried deep self-deprecation.

She shook her head slowly and then met my gaze again. Her clear blue eyes reflected my face.

“You’re right, Miss Rosieta. I love my family. But I don’t know my mother’s preferences. I don’t know which accessories she likes best, or what kind of desserts she enjoys.”

“…”

“But I do love my family. That’s something no one can deny. I’m ready to do anything for them.”

She spoke each word with unwavering resolve, almost fierce in her conviction.

I found myself looking at her nervously. Was it because she said she’d do anything for her family?

Yvette suddenly stood up. My eyes followed her upward. A humid breeze drifted between us.

“Thank you for helping me open up. I’ve wanted to say this, but I was hesitant, fearing it would be rude. But now, I’ve made up my mind.”

“Um, is this about that favor…?”

I began to speak, unsure. The warmth in Yvette’s expression had vanished completely.

Her blue eyes held only a singular resolve.

In a calm, level voice, Yvette asked,

“Miss Rosieta.”

“…”

“Would you meet with my father, just once?”