Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 33

“What are you all talking about so happily?”

Calliope opened the conversation with a soft smile.
This time, Lady Vercia, the viscount’s daughter, answered brightly.

“We were talking about how to decorate our gardens once fall comes.
You gathered flowers representing each family, and there were some we’d never seen before.
Some of them were so beautiful, we thought it might be nice to plant them in our gardens too.”

“Flowers?”

Vercia thought back to the table she had been sitting at.
Come to think of it, there had been a flower representing the Dylas family.
She had just assumed it was a coincidence, but now she realized it had been intentional.

She’s really that unaware, Calliope thought to herself, amused.

“Yes, even Lady Dylas seemed pleased with the flowers,” Calliope said casually, shifting the conversation naturally toward Vercia.

Vercia, pretending she had noticed all along, nodded confidently.

“Of course.
Even though the flowers were mixed together, they went well with each other.
I thought it showed excellent taste.”

Vercia lifted her chin slightly, as if she were doing Calliope a favor by giving her approval.
But to Calliope, who now knew her secret, it only looked like an awkward attempt to cover her lack of awareness.

“My older sister told me that Lady Dylas is already known for having a wonderful sense of taste, even among those who have just debuted.”

“Yes!
My mother said the same thing—how you’re very sensitive to trends and that we should learn from you.”

Of course, that so-called “taste” was really thanks to Vercia’s maid.
At that moment, Vercia glanced at Calliope’s hand, trying to figure out if they were praising her sincerely or mocking her.

Calliope’s hand showed all fingers open — the sign for “good words.”

Only after confirming it did Vercia relax and smile, joining the conversation more actively.

Fortunately, Calliope never had to fold her index finger even once.

Once Calliope saw that Vercia was blending in naturally, she politely excused herself and left the terrace for a while.
She headed toward the upstairs room where Carolie was supposed to be waiting.
Calliope had hoped Carolie would come down on her own, but it seemed she wasn’t planning to move until someone came to fetch her.

When Calliope arrived upstairs, she found Carolie peeking out into the hallway.

Oh, I see. Too proud to come down first, but too anxious to stay hidden forever.

“You’re so late!” Carolie pouted.

“I thought you’d come down first. Besides, I’ve been busy welcoming guests.”

“You should have at least sent Armant! What’s she doing?”

Calliope caught on immediately — Carolie wasn’t angry at her.
She was upset because her friend hadn’t come to get her.

Calliope walked over and held out her hand, and Carolie instinctively reached out, gripping Calliope’s fingers tightly.

“Your friend seems pretty timid. Is she always like that?”

“Hmph, she’s a scaredy-cat, that’s true. But still…”

“She was really worried you might hate her. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t bring herself to come find you.”

“…What a silly thing to worry about.”

Calliope smiled warmly and led Carolie back down toward the terrace.
As they stepped outside, the lively chatter briefly quieted, and heads turned to look.

But Carolie, bold as ever, didn’t care at all.
She marched right over to Armant without hesitation.

Armant, visibly nervous, glanced around anxiously, then finally caught her sister’s eye and, gathering her courage, took a step forward.

“H-hello, Lady Anastas,” Armant said with a tiny voice.

“It’s been a while,” Carolie replied, tilting her chin upward proudly.

Standing behind them, Calliope happened to meet Vercia’s gaze across the terrace.
Ah, our eyes met.

“I was starting to think you were sick or something since you didn’t send any letters,” Carolie continued bluntly.

“T-that’s because… I thought I made you angry…”

“Exactly!
You should have written even sooner!”

Carolie’s sharp voice rang out, drawing attention from the nearby guests.
Poor Armant looked like she was about to cry, fidgeting with her hands.

Calliope gently patted Carolie’s shoulder.
Realizing she might have been too harsh, Carolie softened her expression.

“I was just really upset, that’s all.”

“B-because I didn’t send a letter?”

“And yet you still showed up here at Calliope’s tea party.”

“I came because I wanted to see you!”

At Armant’s desperate little shout, Carolie’s face relaxed noticeably.

“Well, you should have.”

“I-I’m sorry… Lady Carolie…”

The two girls looked completely serious, but the older girls nearby smiled warmly, watching the scene with gentle amusement.

Carolie, still with her arms crossed, stared at her nervous friend for a moment.
Then, finally, she reached out her hand first.

“There are too many young ladies here. Let’s go to my room to talk. How have you been?
I was so bored I thought I’d die.”

“Ah, um, I— I grew a potted plant. It hasn’t bloomed yet though…”

“The same pot you mentioned before? It still hasn’t flowered?”

“It will soon! The family gardener said so!”

“Well, when it blooms, show me.”

Instead of answering, Armant glanced at her older sister.
Ortea, understanding the look, signaled to a maid standing at a distance.
The maid quickly approached, carrying a potted plant carefully wrapped in transparent paper.

The plant looked healthy and full of life, with a small pink bud just about ready to bloom.

“I brought it as a gift,” Armant said, her voice shy.
“It’s something I really treasure.”

Carolie, trying to keep a straight face, accepted the gift with a faint blush tinting her ears.
Her expression stayed aloof, but the way she cradled the pot gently with both hands showed how touched she was.

“…I’ll take good care of it.”
“Yes!”

Seeing Carolie accept the gift, Armant finally relaxed and smiled warmly.

The two girls continued chatting happily before deciding to leave the terrace and head to Carolie’s room.
After being apart for so long, they had a lot to catch up on.

As Calliope gave instructions to a maid to send cakes to their room, Armant suddenly came running up to her.

“Um, Lady Anastas… There’s something I forgot to say earlier.”

The girl hesitated for a moment, gathering her courage.

“I’m really sorry for speaking carelessly before. I should’ve apologized to you first, but I was so overwhelmed…”

“It’s alright. Have you made up with Carolie?”

Armant’s face lit up in a pure, bright smile.

“Thanks to you. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad. Go ahead and have fun upstairs. I’ll have the cake sent up soon.”

The young ladies smiled as they watched the two children leave, hand in hand.
Once their small figures disappeared from view, soft laughter spread among the older girls.

Those who had younger siblings thought of their own families with fondness.
Those who didn’t simply found the sight of the two small girls reconciling and holding hands utterly adorable.

“Did the little ones have a fight?” one of the baron’s daughters asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

Ortea let out a dramatic sigh and pressed her hand to her cheek.

“Of course they did. And what a noisy mess it was! It took so long to get them to make up.”

Her exaggerated tone drew another round of laughter from the girls.

Calliope lifted her gaze briefly, as if looking toward the upper floors where Carolie’s room was, before turning back to the guests with a warm smile.

“Children grow through these little fights. I’m just glad they made up.”

“Actually, it looked like the young Lady made a mistake toward you earlier,” one of the young ladies said, with a curious smile.

“Little Lady Calliope is still very young. But she realized her mistake on her own and came to apologize properly. I think that’s admirable. There’s no need for me to worry about it.”

“If you hadn’t been so understanding, she would probably still be sulking alone somewhere.
Thank you for making this happen.”

“I just happened to be lucky that today’s tea party was close by,” Calliope replied modestly.

The eight young ladies exchanged glances among themselves.

In noble society, girls usually formed close friendships with peers from neighboring families from a very young age.
In that sense, Calliope — who had suddenly appeared among them — should have felt like an outsider.
Yet, the tea party had been much more pleasant than they expected.

Calliope’s broad-heartedness and careful attention to others left a good impression.
Besides, she wasn’t a child born outside marriage—she was the daughter of the Marquis’s first wife.
There would be no harm in becoming closer to her.

“Will we be invited to your next tea party too?”

“I would love to come again or even go out for a little outing!”

“I heard the newly opened royal garden is absolutely beautiful,” another chimed in.

As the girls naturally chatted about future plans, Vercia quietly observed Calliope from a distance.

Later…

Calliope’s first tea party ended in complete success.

All eight young ladies had warmed up to her, asking if they could be invited again—or even suggesting that Calliope join their gatherings in the future.

There was only one thing that weighed slightly on Calliope’s mind: Vercia Dylas, who had left quietly without causing trouble.

Still, the fact that she hadn’t caused any scene at all was already a major success.
Calliope decided not to dwell on it.

After tidying up her dress and accessories, Calliope threw herself onto her bed.
Everything had gone smoothly—but she was exhausted.

Her relationship with the Marchioness was better than expected, her bond with her siblings was good, and Ditron Anastas was already within her grasp…

As her thoughts drifted that far, Calliope pressed her face into her pillow.

She missed Isaac.
She missed him terribly.

The time she spent holding back her feelings for the only person who had supported her in her previous life felt like such a painful waste.

There were times when she wanted to run to him, to shout, “I’m your fiancée!” — even though in this life, he knew nothing yet.

But she couldn’t ruin the second chance she had earned.

Clutching the blanket tightly, she dug her nails into her palm.
The rough sound of fabric scratching filled the air.

She closed her eyes and tried to summon the memory of his voice — so vivid, even after all this time.

“Lady Anastas.”

He had spoken in that dry, broken tone, like a creature surviving at the bottom of the deep sea.
Even when told to use her name, he had stubbornly addressed her formally, handling her with a fragile, careful touch.

“I never accept responsibilities I can’t carry.”

“Then…” she had once asked, “Did you accept me as your fiancée because you thought you could bear that responsibility?”

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