Maylily - Chapter 103

Hugh was moved straight to the bedroom. It was the very room where Maylily stayed last summer.

Deborah, upon hearing the news, rushed to the annex with her skirts flying, and the attending physician who had been summoned arrived in haste, driving his carriage at full speed. More than a dozen maids waited outside the bedroom to procure what the patient needed and carry out the necessary measures.

“Because you haven’t been taking in proper nutrition or rest, your strength has weakened considerably. You’ve taken a fever reducer, so the fever should come down soon, but you need to reduce your reliance on alcohol and sleeping pills and regain stability through a regular routine. Moderate physical activity, such as walking, will also help.”

The prescription the doctor gave after examining Hugh amounted to little more than common sense. It couldn’t be otherwise. Hugh’s condition wasn’t caused by any specific illness.

After the physician withdrew, Deborah sat by Hugh’s side, wiping away tears as she watched his condition. At dusk, supported by the housekeeper, she returned to the main house. When everyone else had left, David remained alone to tend to Hugh.

Contrary to the doctor’s words, Hugh’s fever refused to come down. At times, Hugh drew labored, heated breaths, then slowly lifted his eyelids and stared blankly at the ceiling.

His muddled blue eyes, sunk in unconsciousness, wandered across the ceiling as if chasing something, stopping and starting again at intervals. Each time, Maylily’s name rode out on the breath that slipped through his parched lips.

At the end of a night marked by those faint yet desperate calls, dawn broke, and a light returned to Hugh’s eyes as consciousness came back to him. After commending David for keeping vigil by his side through the night, he ordered him to leave.

David was deeply worried about leaving Hugh alone, but Hugh’s will was firm, so he rose from his seat against his wishes.

“While I’m away, I’ll have Alice stand by. Please get some rest.”

After David left the bedroom, Hugh remained alone inside it for days on end. In the soundless flow of time, he closed his eyes when sleep came and opened them when he woke.

On some days, he watched Maylily from afar as she played the piano and sang. On other days, he witnessed her hanging from the ceiling. On some days, they walked together through streets filled with drifting petals, and on other days, they tangled together in bed all night long. On some days, they held hands and leapt into the sea, and on other days, they sat side by side at a table and read.

In some moments, joy surged up, only to be swallowed by sorrow. In others, anger flared, then was swept away by regret. In still others, longing deepened until it reached despair.

Yesterday became today, today became tomorrow, and tomorrow became yesterday, the days repeating in that way. Maylily was beside him in every moment, and she didn’t exist for a single one.

In the haze of that half-dreaming time, the boundary between reality and dreams collapsed, and memories and emotions blended together. Even without Maylily, he was intoxicated by her every moment and couldn’t regain his senses. The nightmares were as cruel as they were sweet.

At times, a suffocating tightness closed in on him. Consumed by the warped sensation of the walls narrowing toward him, Hugh recalled the past summer Maylily spent here. After bringing her into his vast world, he imprisoned her in a small, shaded space within the forest, driven by the selfish desire to keep her always at his side, looking only at him. Now, as the price of that narrow love, he himself was trapped in this cramped place, chasing her memory.

Hugh traced, savored, and replayed the memories of Maylily etched throughout the annex until they faded, wore down, and frayed to tatters.

And then, at the end of that brutal indulgence, one day he suddenly thought of a way to get Maylily back. To execute the plan perfectly, Hugh waited for the right moment, curling in on himself like a snake hibernating through winter, biding his time until spring.

In the meantime, the seasons passed through spring into summer, then reached autumn. The season when Maylily disappeared. At last, the perfect time arrived to resume the relationship that had been frozen because of her absence.

***

Outside the window, the unripe oranges hanging from the tree had taken on a yellow tinged with green. Above them spread a clear sky with white clouds drifting by.

The season when Maylily first arrived in Bredova had come around again. The scenery inside and outside the bedroom was no different from exactly one year ago. Except for one thing.

[How can Dylan be so angelic and gentle without even fussing in his sleep? He really is so well-behaved. That must be because he takes after you, May.]

Giovanna murmured softly as she patted the baby’s back in her arms. Sunlight slanted down over the cradle beside her. To block it, Maylily drew the chiffon curtain over the window.

[I was told I was a baby who didn’t cry much either, so that’s probably true. Please give him to me. I’ll put him to sleep.]

Dylan, lifted from Giovanna’s arms, blinked his sleep-heavy eyes and looked up at Maylily. Jet-black hair and snow-white skin, deep blue eyes and vivid red lips. The face painted by such distinct colors was deeply lovable.

She didn’t feel that way from the beginning. Five months ago, after enduring half a day of labor and holding the baby in her arms, Maylily realized the child was a boy who closely resembled the man she had tried so desperately to forget. Even through her haze, it felt as though her head had been struck with a hammer.

Those sapphire-colored eyes that looked at her felt like an omen of a fate she could never escape, no matter how she struggled, the shadow of the Count of Everscourt. Every time she saw them, his face would come to mind.

The child she carried for ten months and gave birth to didn’t feel like her own at all. Even when he cried, she felt no urge to nurse him. She didn’t even want to look at his face.

It was after she spent three or four days sunk in that despondency.

“Look at this, Maylily. The mole on the baby’s cheek looks just like the one under your lips.”

Michele said this as he carefully entered the bedroom, his eyes shining as if he’d discovered something remarkable, pointing with his fingertip to the mole in the middle of the baby’s plump, rosy cheek.

After that, Giovanna and Carlo took turns visiting, pointing out the ways the baby resembled Maylily.

[The way his eyes curve so gently when he smiles, he’s exactly like you.]

[His forehead is round without any sharp angles. It’s just like yours, May, right?]

By then, she couldn’t fail to notice that everyone was watching her carefully. She couldn’t keep avoiding her responsibility, neglecting it, and causing trouble for others.

In the end, Maylily took the baby back into her arms. The eyes beneath eyelids that had lost their swelling over the past few days looked straight up at her. Those eyes were blue and deep like the sea. They were a color so beautiful it was almost painful.

That day, she breastfed the baby for the first time. Watching him latch on and suck greedily as if he’d been starving for days, Maylily broke down and sobbed. She felt unbearably guilty for having hated and neglected such a small, fragile baby who had no one to rely on but her.

She couldn’t let the baby grow up like herself, raised without knowing a parent’s love. Maylily wanted to become a different kind of parent from her own. Even though she had become an unwed mother like her own mother, if she cared for the child and took responsibility to the very end, then surely she could live a life different from hers.

And if she someday found happiness of her own, then perhaps one day she would be able to stand before her aunt, holding the child’s hand and smiling.

After wiping away her tears, Maylily held the baby close, his belly round after nursing his fill. She gazed into his eyes for a long time, then gave him the name Dylan.

Maylily didn’t know much about her own childhood, but she believed that Dylan would resemble her in every way except his appearance.

The baby cried little and smiled often. When he saw strangers, he quietly observed them with bright, clear eyes. He slept soundly, and when awake, he often played calmly on his own.

Whenever the child looked at her and smiled brightly, she felt as though she could overcome any hardship in the world just to protect that smile. In that way, Maylily was gradually awakening to maternal love.

[He seems completely asleep now.]

Giovanna whispered softly from behind as she watched Dylan. Maylily carefully laid the baby down in the cradle beside the bed. The sound of his gentle breathing echoed faintly.

[I’m going to start preparing dinner now.]

[If Michele comes, I’ll come help as well.]

[No, stay by Dylan’s side and take a short nap, my dear. I’ll come wake you when it’s time to eat.]

Maylily nodded, agreeing for now. It wasn’t as though she needed prior permission to help with the work.

After Giovanna went to the inn’s dining hall, Maylily left the bedroom door slightly ajar and stepped out into the living room. By the time she finished sweeping the floor and wiping all the windows, Michele returned from the market. His arms were full of bags, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

“You worked hard, Michele. Wait a moment. I’ll bring you something to drink.”

Maylily hurried into the kitchen and came back with lemon water set on a tray.

“Thank you. I’ll drink it.”

Michele dropped heavily onto the sofa and took it, gulping it down. As Maylily placed the tray on the table and sat beside him, she glanced at the paper bags set near his feet.

“What did you buy?”

“Candles and soap for the guest rooms. Ah, and this too.”

Michele pulled out a newspaper that had been tucked between the strings tying the paper bags together and handed it to her.

“There’s some news I wanted to tell you. The article is at the bottom of the front page.”