The Mansion Awaits Spring - Chapter 150

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 150
* * *
Throughout the wedding preparations, Pejin imposed himself on the Lunos Residence.
April watched with narrowed eyes as Pejin carried a lunch tray—silver and laden—into her bedroom as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“How can you freeload with such audacity?”
“If I weren’t shameless, I wouldn’t be bringing you meals right now. Besides, I had an excuse ready.”
Pejin set down the tray without a shred of embarrassment and pointed out the window.
“I was going to say the snow prevented me from leaving. But people keep clearing it away.”
At his words, April sighed and muttered to herself.
“Why are they doing this? Coming into someone else’s fiefdom like that.”
“The wedding’s only a few days away. They’re worried so much snow will pile up that the guests can’t make it.”
“I hired so many people for the ceremony this time. They think I’ll handle clearing it myself.”
Pejin offered a pointed retort to April’s grumbling.
“That’s their way of saying thank you.”
“I know. That’s how I’m answering their thanks. People from the Grand Duke’s domain are always like that, aren’t they?”
“Our sensibilities don’t align.”
Pejin shook his head, then draped a thick knitted garment—one that Fred’s grandmother had left out—over April’s shoulders as she rose from bed.
April fastened the garment and settled back down, biting into warm bread as she spoke.
“It’s nice having you here. There’s more to eat.”
“Before you came, this place had nothing but pancakes. Can you believe that—pancakes at the Lunos Residence?”
“Pancakes are delicious.”
“Eating the same thing every day isn’t delicious. You just don’t know any other food.”
Pejin spoke as he took the bread from April’s hands.
He opened it again—it had only butter and cheese—then layered it generously with several sauces, reindeer meat, and vegetables before returning it to her.
“Since we’re eating anyway, we might as well enjoy it.”
“You put too much sauce on everything.”
“You eat too bland. People from Right Island have no taste. No taste at all.”
April wanted to protest his critique of her food culture, but it was true—the sandwich, now layered with various sauces, tasted far better than before.
Pejin spoke to April as she ate the sandwich without complaint.
“You see? A sandwich is all about the sauce. The sauce—that’s what matters.”
“You’re loud.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m always loud.”
Pejin teased in return, then proceeded to devour an enormous rye bread of his own, heaped with an extravagant portion of reindeer meat.
Right there at the table, he moved on to cake drizzled with honey.
There was no doubt: eating with Pejin made food taste better.
During his entire stay at the Lunos Residence, he fussed over every one of April’s meals, talking her ear off about what tasted good and how best to enjoy it.
April carved out a large piece of cake with her fork and spoke.
“I’ll probably think of you for the food once you leave for the Empire.”
“Don’t lie. You won’t think of me at all.”
Pejin always answered that way. He seemed genuinely convinced that April would forget Pejin Daeus entirely, fading him into the haziest blur.
Then, as if changing the subject, he brought up something else.
“Hannah’s father—you heard he died?”
“Yes.”
“That’s awful. Lost to the Fog. He was the only one in his thirties.”
Pejin spoke while studying April’s expression. She answered in a flat voice.
“Hannah brightened up afterward. Like she’d set down a heavy burden.”
Pejin smiled, relieved by April’s detached reaction.
As the two of them passed the snowy afternoon, the sound of Hannah rushing through the house reached them—home from school for the holiday break.
“Miss! Miss!”
At the girl’s excited voice, Pejin rose and stepped toward the door.
“Don’t run. Future officer. You need composure—you’re a police officer.”
“The wedding dress arrived!”
“Oh, then you should run. I apologize.”
Pejin quickly reversed course and hurried away at an even faster pace alongside Hannah to see the wedding dress.
April let out a bewildered laugh and took a sip of coffee. Then she glanced back toward the door through which Pejin and Hannah had disappeared.
The recent Fog had claimed far fewer lives than before, yet Hannah’s father’s name appeared on the death list. And ever since, Hannah had grown quite attached to Pejin.
April sensed, vaguely, that there was a connection between these two facts. But she had no intention of digging deeper—quite the opposite. She would sooner pick up a shovel to bury it further down.
Because if Hannah’s father hadn’t died, she would have tried any means necessary.
A man with intact limbs had been losing his livelihood at the Factory, wrist after wrist, and drank away whatever money he earned.
He begrudged his daughter’s schooling—a girl who could work just by reading and writing—and had even borrowed money using her as collateral.
April felt a quiet relief at his death.
And if that was how April felt, Hannah must have felt so much more.
Hannah, who had despised Pejin so intensely, constantly accusing him of investigating innocent April—the very Hannah who had opened her heart completely to him now—that said everything one needed to know.
Meanwhile, Pejin rushed back upstairs and spoke to April.
“You need to try it on and have any necessary alterations made.”
“Why would I need alterations on a custom dress?”
“For perfection.”
“Wedding dresses take forever.”
April grumbled, but she too was curious about the finished dress. She set down her coffee cup and headed toward the Dress Room.
* * *
“It’s truly stunning.”
April let out a small gasp at the sight of the completed dress.
She had attended only a handful of ceremonies, but nearly all of them had been grand affairs. Yet April had never seen a dress this elaborate.
She had always thought white was a dull color. In a land where snow fell relentlessly, there was nothing more common than white.
And yet this snow-white dress dazzled her eyes. The harmony of countless jewels and lace was the height of beauty.
April accepted the staff’s assistance and changed into the wedding dress.
From outside, Pejin, who had been waiting, called out.
“When will it be ready?”
“I’m done.”
At April’s answer, Pejin immediately moved to enter, but the staff urgently blocked the door.
“You mustn’t, Commander!”
“It’s bad luck to see the wedding dress before the ceremony!”
Then Pejin, standing outside the door, spoke.
“That’s all right. No matter what happens, we’ll be fine.”
“Really, Commander, you’ll use any excuse just to see your new bride in the dress!”
The staff admonished him this way, but unable to resist his persistence, they stepped out, leaving April in his hands.
Pejin stepped into the Dress Room. For all his effort to enter, he fell silent for a long moment.
In the evening, when night stretched long as the Polar Night itself, April stood beneath a gas lamp and spoke to him.
“We’re not having a marriage, so there’s no bad luck to worry about. But I can’t say that.”
“Right.”
Pejin gazed at April intently as he spoke.
April, too, felt drawn by Pejin’s eyes—eyes that pulled more persistently than usual, perhaps because of the gaslight—and she lifted her gaze to meet his.
After a moment, he opened his mouth.
“You’re perfect.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He nodded and murmured.
“You’re too perfect. I envy the man who’ll actually marry you.”
……
“The man who loves you will be so happy.”
April felt as though countless stories were being told through Pejin’s eyes.
Most were beautiful stories. Sad, yes, but all the more beautiful for it—and they poured through his gaze.
April raised a hand without thinking and cradled his cheek, speaking softly.
“Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure exactly… but you look sad.”
“Next month, I won’t see you. How can I be happy?”
Pejin covered April’s hand—the one cradling his cheek—with his own. His face bore the expression of someone feeling another’s warmth for the first time in ages, and he closed his eyes as he spoke.
“I’m sad.”
Then he slowly opened his eyes and gazed bitterly at a dress that wouldn’t survive even a single day, continuing.
“How do I say goodbye to a woman like you…? That’s what I keep thinking. So when I board the ship back to the Empire, don’t come to see me off.”
“Why not? You don’t want me to say goodbye?”
“Don’t. If I see your face, I won’t be able to leave. At the ceremony too—look at me as little as possible. If you’re too beautiful, how will I go? I can’t go. I won’t be able to…”
April found herself unable to look directly at Pejin as he murmured these things.
The stories told through his eyes made her heart clench in a way that felt strange.
He’s beautiful, and that’s why even happy stories sound sad coming from him. He’s the kind of person who can make something trivial sound pitiful, who can wring another’s heart with a sorrowful face.
That’s why his eyes linger in one’s chest this way.
April simply tried to think of it in those terms.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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