Garden of May

—Actually, my family runs a small newspaper.

“Oh.”

Only then did Vanessa finally recall something she had completely overlooked.

“Right. You’re a Dawson… that Dawson. The famous Linden Daily. I can’t believe I forgot.”

—I’m used to it. Being ignored by pretty girls, I mean.

“I should’ve realized the moment I heard your name. I guess I was too preoccupied with other things back then.”

—Wow. So I even lost out to my great-uncle, huh?

Vanessa let out a soft laugh, feeling noticeably more at ease.

Logan Dawson had a way of putting people at ease—it was subtle, but undeniable. Perhaps it was his lively tone that reminded her of Blair.

Blair.

The moment she thought of him, a dull ache spread through her chest, like swallowing a large thorn whole and having it lodge deep inside.

It wasn’t surprising. Not once had Blair contacted her since the departure ceremony.

Could it be that they couldn’t even remain friends anymore? And if that was the case… what would happen to her relationship with Rosalyn?

If this had happened before, both of them would have rushed to Gloucester without hesitation…

—Anyway, this whole rumor… it felt a bit malicious from the start.

Noticing her prolonged silence, Logan continued more cautiously now.

—It spread way too fast, like someone planned it and deliberately circulated it. The Duke already has all kinds of ridiculous rumors attached to him, so people just assumed this was another one of those… but the necklace you wore that day really fanned the flames.

“The necklace I wore?”

—Mermaid’s Tear. If that really is a fake like you said, then you should question the person who gave it to you. A journalist… or maybe someone working for one.

“That’s ridiculous.”

—I’m just saying it’s a possibility. Think about whether there’s anyone who could benefit from this scandal.

Vanessa hesitated.

If by any chance, the necklace had come from her uncle, and if the scandal had been nothing more than a light romantic rumor, then Logan’s suspicion would have been reasonable.

After all, being linked to a high-status man had always been one of the most direct ways to raise one’s value.

Like Marta of Latvia, who had risen from a maid to the Emperor’s bed.

But the necklace hadn’t come from her uncle. It had come from River Ross.

Even if she doubted the entire world, she couldn’t doubt him. No one was further removed from her uncle’s schemes than that man. And more importantly, he had no motive.

“The necklace came from someone I trust. Now that I hear your explanation, I understand. It was just a series of unfortunate coincidences.”

“Well, if that’s the case, that’s a relief.”

At least now she had some idea of how everything had spiraled out of control. It was all the result of overlapping coincidences and misunderstandings.

With that conclusion, her chest felt noticeably lighter.

In the end, this was the kind of problem that time would resolve. Unless there was a photograph of her with the Duke, or clear evidence to support the rumors.

She didn’t even know what the Duke in those stories looked like. Vanessa’s voice grew brighter and refreshed.

“Thank you for calling me first, Dawson. And for explaining everything. I feel much better now.”

—If you say that, then I’m the one who’s grateful. Oh—don’t hang up yet. Wait a moment, I’ll put my great-uncle on.

“He’s there with you?”

—I slipped in while he had the line connected to call you. The operator was struggling for ages, so he stepped away for a bit. So…

“Logan!”

A sharp voice barked from the other end of the line.It sounded like he’d been secretly making the call—”Yikes!”—he exclaimed, followed by hurried rustling noises.

Then—

—I’ve gotta go. See you later, Vanessa!

She gave a hollow laugh at his rushed farewell. The sigh that followed, she hoped he hadn’t heard.

A belated sense of regret flickered through her. What if, back when she attended St. Louis, she had paid just a little more attention to the people around her?

Maybe they could have become good friends. But now… it was all meaningless speculation.

—I’ve switched the line.

Benjamin Dawson’s deep, composed voice came through. Vanessa straightened from where she had been leaning casually against the table.

“Mr. Dawson. Have you been well?”

This was their first conversation since she had commissioned him for that matter. And somehow, she felt certain that he wouldn’t have contacted her this soon if there hadn’t been any meaningful progress.