Garden of May

“What’s that thing around your neck? You’ve been fiddling with it this whole time.”

“Oh, this?”

Blushing, Vanessa finally lowered the hand that had been absently toying with the necklace. The lace trim of her dress hid most of it anyway, but for some reason, she still felt embarrassed to show it openly. Maybe because it wasn’t even hers—just something she had borrowed for the night.

After hesitating for a moment, she tucked the necklace deeper beneath the collar of her dress.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, for real?”

In that brief instant, Logan must have caught sight of it, because all the color drained from his face. As though he had seen something he absolutely shouldn’t have.

To be fair, the necklace was strikingly extravagant compared to her otherwise modest outfit. It probably looked awkward too, like a younger sister sneaking out wearing her older sister’s jewelry.

Feeling slightly self-conscious, Vanessa tugged the ribbon of her hat down a little further across her chest.

“Is it really that bad?”

“No. It’s not bad, exactly…”

“Logan Dawson. Be honest with me.”

When she fixed him with a serious stare, Logan’s cheeks flushed faintly. He hurriedly looked away, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

“At first, I thought I was mistaken, but… the thing you’re wearing around your neck, isn’t that Mermaid’s Tear?”

“Mermaid’s Tear?”

Vanessa tilted her head, repeating the name back to him. Calmly. Completely unshaken. Her reaction only seemed to make Logan even more flustered.

“You know—the famous necklace from Demuires. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it?”

Vanessa blinked at him with wide eyes, then suddenly burst into clear, bright laughter.

“Sorry. Your expression was just too funny. Of course I’ve heard of it. It’s famous enough that everyone knows the name.”

“Right… well. That’s… good, I guess…”

“What, did you really think this was the genuine one?”

Relieved now, Vanessa smiled more easily.

“Unfortunately, it’s a fake. I borrowed it from a friend.”

“…A fake? That?“

“Well, I think they probably used gems that are better quality than most imitation pieces. But Mermaid’s Tear is practically the company’s signature masterpiece. It was even displayed at an exhibition. Who would casually walk around wearing something like the real thing?”

Logan stared down at her with an unreadable look in his eyes. He seemed both utterly speechless and strangely pitiful toward her at the same time.

Rubbing a dry hand over his face, he finally looked at her seriously.

“Vanessa, Siren, Somerset.”

The sigh that escaped him was deep, heavy with concern.

“You’re going to need to brace yourself from now on.”

She was just about to ask what on earth he meant by that when the door suddenly swung open.

Warm, gentle light poured over her face so abruptly that Vanessa squinted for a moment before lifting her gaze.

What spread before her was a grand hall that looked almost like an enormous glass conservatory. Unlike the noisy bustle outside, this place carried an air of refined elegance.

As the door shut softly behind them, Vanessa instinctively turned around, only to be guided forward by Logan as she clutched his arm.

White curtains so sheer the windows beyond could be seen through them. Dark green carpets. Rows of round tables. The soft chiming of crystal glasses clinking together. Refined laughter drifting through the air.

At the front of the hall, an orchestra played classical music, while impeccably dressed crew members moved gracefully between clusters of gentlemen seated at the tables, balancing trays filled with champagne and delicate hors d’oeuvres.

Then Logan lifted a hand toward someone in the distance.

“Grandfather Benjamin.”

“Ah, Logan.”

As though a round of whist had just ended, the elderly man who had been gathering up his cards looked up and broke into a broad smile. Motioning for them to come closer, he leaned toward the older gentlemen seated around him.

As they approached the table, Vanessa stared at the old man without blinking.

Not rudely, just carefully. As carefully as she could.

She had memorized the photograph from that local newspaper article ten years ago down to the smallest detail, yet she still couldn’t tell for certain whether this gentle-looking old man was truly the person she had been searching for.

“I’ll come by later, all right… Just let me finish this conversation first. Go ahead and have a drink while you wait… Yes, yes.”

Apparently deciding to move elsewhere, the elderly gentlemen rose noisily from the table. Benjamin Dawson accepted his coat, then turned toward his grandnephew with a deliberately stern expression.

“You rascal. Where on earth have you been? Your mother’s been looking for you since early evening.”