The Serpent of Paradise - Chapter 38

Having had no one to tell about that day, Catherine seemed to think she finally found someone willing to listen and described the day of the count’s riding accident to Mikhail in detail. She even told him which rock the count died near.

“Still, it was fortunate that it ended with only Dalby dying. Mother said the stable hands shouldn’t be spared either, but Edward actually defended them, gave them generous severance pay, and sent them back to their hometowns. As you know, Edenhurst hasn’t had a stable since then, and the forest is off-limits, so no one goes there anymore.”

After chattering excitedly for quite some time, Catherine raised her head and looked at the wall. “Edward’s portrait used to hang here. It’s probably hanging in Mother’s room now.”

“I remember seeing it when I visited before.”

“He looked so angelic, didn’t he? I’m not only saying that because he was my brother. He truly was like an angel. That’s why Mother still can’t forget Edward and continues to suffer.”

“What exactly do you mean by angelic?”

“Exactly what I said. He never once used harsh language in his entire life, never disobeyed our parents, and all his tutors praised him as absolutely perfect. Besides….”

Catherine watched Mikhail’s expression as she continued, “Edward took such good care of Anastasia too.”

She deliberately brought it up to see how Mikhail would react the moment she mentioned Anastasia. But his expression didn’t change at all. He merely looked at her as though telling her to continue.

“Catherine.”

At that moment, Elizabeth’s voice came from the entrance to the drawing room. After helping the countess upstairs, she had come back down instead of returning to her room.

“You should go upstairs now. Mikhail must be tired, so don’t keep him here too long.”

At Elizabeth’s cold gaze, Catherine rose from her seat. Ordinarily, she might have protested and asked why, but when she saw Elizabeth’s eyes, she felt as though her sister had realized that she tried to provoke Mikhail by mentioning Anastasia.

“Oh my, how did it get so late? Just as you said, I think I should go upstairs now.”

Nothing good would come of remaining there. Catherine headed toward her room, assuming Elizabeth would speak with Mikhail once she left. But contrary to her expectations, Elizabeth followed her upstairs.

After the two reached the second floor, just as Catherine was about to enter her room, Elizabeth suddenly shoved her roughly inside and closed the door.

“Sister!”

Before Catherine could even snap at her and ask why she was doing this, Elizabeth seized her wrist tightly.

“What did you say downstairs?”

“Wh-Why are you acting like this?”

“Tell me this instant.”

Catherine swallowed dryly at the gleam in Elizabeth’s eyes. Had her sister ever looked at her this way before? This wasn’t her usually composed sister. Faced with an intensity that made it seem as though Elizabeth might seize her by the collar and slam her down like some lowborn brute, Catherine grew frightened and tearful.

“I-I didn’t say much. I was just so irritated by that Anastasia….”

“Not Anastasia! What did you say about Edward?”

“I-It really wasn’t anything important! There was just a different painting hanging where his portrait used to be, so I only said that he was a truly good person….”

In truth, she spoke about their father’s accident, but for some reason, if she admitted that… it felt as though Elizabeth might throw her out the window right then and there. Of course, that couldn’t possibly happen, but Catherine instinctively concealed what she said because she felt something close to that level of fear.

“Are you telling the truth?”

“I am. Sister, why are you acting like this…? You’re frightening me….”

Only when Catherine began to whimper did Elizabeth release her. Then, in an instant, she returned to her usual self. Calm, quiet, and graceful. Yet her gaze remained cold.

“Catherine. You heard what Mikhail said today, didn’t you? We’re going to Sokolov. I’ll marry him. You’ll live there in comfort with Mother and be able to marry into whichever family you desire. And….”

Elizabeth spoke with conviction, as though delivering a prophecy, “…Anastasia will remain here at Edenhurst. So stop going around saying anything unnecessary about this matter. Do you understand?”

***

Anastasia rose before dawn and paced around her room. For some reason, time seemed to pass terribly slowly today. It would still be quite a while before Natasha woke and came to her, so Anastasia lit the lamp and sat down at the table. A thick book with a red cover rested there. It was the illustrated flower guide Mikhail gave her to carry when they left the library yesterday.

Turning the pages one by one, Anastasia brought her face close to the book and breathed in its scent. The strong smell of ink stung her nose, making her frown slightly, but she soon rubbed her face against the coarse paper.

“It’s beautiful….”

Anastasia was simply fascinated by the illustrations, which looked as though real flowers had been affixed to the paper. When she couldn’t tear her gaze from the book, Mikhail closed it as though he expected that reaction and held it out to her.

“Take this book.”

Anastasia couldn’t even manage a polite refusal. She took the book with trembling hands. Throughout the walk back to her room, she hugged it tightly to her chest, afraid someone might suddenly appear and take it away. As soon as she returned, she sat at the table, opened the book, and frantically read it from beginning to end. No, since she still couldn’t read, it would be more accurate to say she looked through it.

The book contained illustrations of trees and flowers utterly unfamiliar to her. Trees with leaves broad enough to hide an entire person, trees with branches hanging down like long ropes, flowers larger than a person’s face….

Illustrations so detailed that even the slender veins on the back of each leaf were clearly depicted. Mikhail told her that such illustrations were called botanical art in the language of Ils.

Mikhail said they were plants from the primeval forests that remained on the distant Southern Continent. To Anastasia, everything beyond Edenhurst had once been the same land of darkness. But now, distinctions were beginning to emerge.

Beyond Edenhurst lay the capital and Sokolov. And farther away still was the Southern Continent. Becoming aware of the unknown was like light slowly entering a pitch-black night sky and revealing the outlines of the world. Once lines began to take shape in a world of nothingness, Anastasia grew impatient. The unfamiliar language of Ils and the knowledge Mikhail taught her became small lamps in her hands, illuminating her surroundings.

Now Anastasia wondered what lay beyond that darkness.

She wanted to know more. If she looked at other books and spoke with Mikhail more, she could learn what existed beyond paradise.

Anastasia looked longingly at the bookshelves in the library. She wanted to become a giant insect and gnaw through every book as though devouring leaves. Then the contents of the books would remain within her forever. Merely holding them wasn’t enough to satisfy her.

‘He said he would teach me to read.’

At last, she would be able to read books. What she yearned for since childhood was finally coming true. Once she learned to read, she would become a truly ravenous insect and chew the words she held in her arms again and again. Until they became hers entirely. Endlessly.

Unable to contain the emotions swelling inside her, Anastasia carefully hugged the book.

“I love it so much….”

Her honest lips gave voice to her feelings exactly as they were. Anastasia thought yesterday was the most perfect day of her life. The entire day consisted only of good things. The lavish meal she could now eat without shame. The garden she walked through beneath the sunlight. The scent of the books filling the library. The book held in her arms. And the person handing her the book….

The morning sunlight rising in the distance touched Anastasia’s face. Her face was redder than the sunlight.

***

Mikhail summoned Yuri first thing in the morning.

“What is it? I need to hurry.”

Yuri planned to make a brief trip to Sokolov. There was Mikhail’s order to prepare the Sokolov residence, and he also needed to stop there to examine the documents that arrived in the meantime and the Empress Dowager’s movements. Just as his face tensed at the thought that Mikhail might give him another order, Mikhail said something completely unexpected.

“Buy some books.”

“Books? We already filled the library. Is something missing?”

Yuri thought of Edenhurst’s library. Not only had they furnished the mansion, but they also stocked the library with a range of books as varied as the one in the Sokolov residence. Even most noble families wouldn’t have a collection as complete as Edenhurst’s library now. It contained books from Novgod, Ils, and Flanre, as well as ancient volumes from the ancient kingdom of Cleringia.

‘Even though there probably isn’t anyone who can read them.’

Few people could read Cleringian. Mikhail had no interest in it, saying there was no reason to learn a dead language from a thousand years ago when it couldn’t make him any money. Igor knew only the origins of a few medicinal terms. Whenever Yuri encountered unfamiliar, strange letters, he simply assumed they must be Cleringian.

Nevertheless, they placed Cleringian books in Edenhurst’s library because it wouldn’t be regarded as a proper library without them. A library needed rare books no one could even read to earn recognition.

“We even brought in Cleringian books. What could possibly be missing?”

Yuri grew tense, wondering whether Mikhail intended to order him to find a cuneiform clay tablet from thousands of years ago. Then Mikhail spoke.

“A Novgod language primer.”

“Pardon?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Buy a Novgod language primer. Find the easiest one possible, with large letters and plenty of pictures. And buy some children’s books too.”

“No… who is going to use those?”

“Just hurry up and go. Oh, and one more thing.”

After briefly sinking into thought, Mikhail said, “I have a racehorse named Biniya. Its sire should be a horse called Dalby, so there are probably records or documents about him. If they aren’t at the residence, go to the horse racing association and bring back every piece of information they have on a horse named Dalby.”

“Are you planning to build a racetrack here? Why are you suddenly asking about a racehorse?”

“That’s enough. Just leave already.”

Mikhail seized Yuri by the back of the neck, practically lifted him off the floor, and threw him into the corridor. Staring at the door as it slammed shut in front of him, Yuri rubbed the back of his neck. Had that man truly gone mad?

Even so, Yuri quickly set off. When Mikhail gave an order, he had to obey it.

***

“Whew….”

Upon entering the library, Anastasia drew a deep breath. The scent of the wooden shelves and books flowing deep into her lungs cleared her mind.

“Sit here.”

Anastasia hurried over to the desk he indicated and sat in the chair he pulled out slightly for her. The ladylike etiquette Natasha taught her had already become natural to her. Once Anastasia was seated, Mikhail placed the things he brought from his room before her.

“Wow….”

Anastasia gazed openmouthed in admiration at the paper, pen, and bottle of ink placed before her.

“May I touch them?”

“Of course.”

Anastasia reached for the pen. It was the simplest kind, a long pen with a gleaming silver nib that had to be dipped into ink before writing. Mikhail placed the ink bottle farther up the table as though encouraging her to try, but Anastasia hesitated because she didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll demonstrate first.”

Realizing Anastasia didn’t even know how to hold a pen, Mikhail took it back from her. He lightly dipped the nib into the ink, then scraped its tip against the rim of the glass bottle to shake off the excess.

“Then… shall we write a name?”

Mikhail considered handing it to her as it was, but decided it would be better to show her the proper angle as well, so he wrote on the paper.

Anastasia.

After watching how Mikhail held and moved the pen, Anastasia gazed in fascination at the word written on the paper.

“What did you write?”

“Anastasia. I wrote your name. Is there anything else you would like to see written?”

As though she had been waiting for the question, Anastasia answered immediately.

“Mikhail.”