Summer Must Die - Chapter 22

“What about Julian?”

“Why on earth did she cry?”

“No, Duke, why…”

This episode is important.

Two meetings take place at the banquet, and Ian Lancaster develops a slight fondness and curiosity for Julian. But Ian came out alone much faster than expected.

“Answer me, Summer Lindsey!”

“Why are you so angry?”

Summer found Ian difficult to understand. Ian’s eyes looked like they were about to burst into flames while being colder than ice at the same time. No matter how she thought about it, his reaction was excessive.

“Tell me what happened.”

“She did cry, but nothing happened.”

“Does it make sense to cry when nothing happened?”

“I guess it was because the night sky was too beautiful.”

It wasn’t a lie since she really did cry because everything was beautiful – the banquet hall, the night atmosphere, Russell’s kindness.

But Ian Lancaster was convinced that Summer’s words were lies.

“Why on earth if nothing happened!”

“Duke.”

“…”

“I don’t know what kind of wounds you carry. But I’m a different person from the one who hurt you. So please don’t worry about it anymore.”

Summer’s gaze was clear and firm. Not knowing that this was bothering Ian even more.

Ian now found it painful just to look at Summer. At the same time, it was painful when Summer was out of sight.

When those memories began to resurface with all senses once again.

“Do you really not know anything about my mother?”

Summer frowned slightly.

No, wasn’t it originally that he fell in love because Julian comforted that wound when they met as children, and that’s why he’s still looking for her now as an adult?

When reading, she had been completely absorbed in Julian, so she didn’t particularly remember anything about Ian Lancaster’s story.

To Summer, Duke Ian Lancaster was someone who troubled Julian while also being the person Julian loved. Just that much.

“I don’t know. Don’t tell me. I’m not in a good enough state to take on someone else’s pain.”

Summer drew a line firmly, showing her palm.

A small ripple passed through Ian Lancaster’s gray eyes. It happened in such a brief moment that Summer didn’t notice his wavering.

“…I can’t let you die.”

Ian covered his face with one hand as if hiding it, painfully uttering those words.

Summer, who had been watching him impassively, turned her back on him.

“I wasn’t trying to die. Though you won’t believe it.”

Summer’s parting words were painfully familiar to Ian.

It’s sickening.

I lay in bed doing nothing. Eating was bothersome, and meeting Fei was bothersome.

The original work I had read without much thought was now annoying.

The petty villains playing with food, Julian’s fate of having to endure countless hardships until the end, my own pathetic state of not being able to help her at all. I didn’t want to see any of it anymore.

Summer rolled her eyes slightly in her unkempt state, not even having washed. Sunlight flickered through the slightly parted curtains.

As if entranced, Summer got up and pulled back the thick blackout curtains.

“…”

Beautiful flowers bloomed in the garden, with colorful butterflies flying above them. Opening the window, a pleasantly cool breeze tickled her cheeks.

Warm and gentle weather. The spring sunlight shattered on the glass, sparkling. The world was peaceful.

Summer, who had been quietly looking out the window, impulsively pulled the bell rope. The one who entered was Daisy with a worried expression.

“Daisy. Help me prepare to go out.”

“…Really?”

“It seems I’ve caused quite a bit of worry.”

Summer let out a weak, faint laugh. Daisy, fearing Summer might change her mind, quickly grabbed the hem of her skirt and ran down the corridor.

The young lady has gotten out of bed.

Miss Summer has finally gotten out of bed!

Preparations for going out proceeded swiftly.

Daisy brought quickly heated water to fill the bathtub, and as soon as the bath was finished, she put on a lavender-colored dress and inserted a hair ornament decorated with amethyst.

“So, so pretty!”

“Thank you.”

“Have a nice outing!”

Daisy waved her arms vigorously. Summer also smiled slightly and waved her hand lightly in greeting.

This time too, the carriage started smoothly.

The same carriage. The same coachman. The elderly coachman, who looked well past middle age at a glance, kept looking back at Summer sitting in the back today as well.

“Is there something you want to ask?”

Summer, who had been quietly looking at the scenery, finally asked in an indifferent tone.

The coachman was startled and quickly shifted his gaze to the front, adjusting his grip on the reins.

“Ah, no! It’s just that you look a bit troubled today…”

“Me?”

“Yes. Somehow, compared to when I first saw you… Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve spoken out of turn.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just, everyone else said I’ve gotten better.”

Didn’t Daisy just rejoice that she had finally gotten up? But the coachman still looked at Summer with a stern face.

“Young lady. When you’re having a hard time, it might help to think of yourself as a child.”

“A child.”

Summer didn’t cut off or interrupt the coachman’s words. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she didn’t have the energy to get upset and ask him what he knew.

Summer wasn’t having a hard time. She was just annoyed and lethargic.

But when the coachman said she looked troubled, suddenly everything felt unbearably difficult.

Or maybe not. Perhaps she had just become newly aware of the weight of gravity that had always been pressing down on her.

“Yes. A child finds it difficult to even drink water or eat on their own. But that difficulty is so natural. My granddaughter used to spill water so often. And yet she was so confident. She knew it was only natural that she couldn’t do it well.”

“…”

The coachman’s expression gradually softened as he spoke, and soon the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

Can one be that happy just from thinking about their grandchild?

Summer tried to recall the faces of her parents who would be in South Korea.

No matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t remember her parents’ names or faces. Just a voice pretending to be affectionate while suppressing hardship, asking, “Are you eating well?”

Still, not just that granddaughter, but Summer herself must have lived receiving someone’s love, attention, and care.

It’s just that her parents were a bit tired from cleaning up after a daughter whose employment was delayed. Yes, tired.

“How about starting over by spilling water again? After spilling water at least a thousand times, eventually she stopped spilling it.”

Summer, who had been staring intently at the coachman’s benevolent smile, lightly asked.

“How old is your granddaughter now?”

‘Is she around my age?’ Summer thought carefully as she examined the coachman’s face.

The coachman didn’t look to be over sixty, so his granddaughter probably wasn’t an adult yet.

The coachman slowly erased his smile and cleared his throat.

“If she were still alive, she’d be eighteen this year.”

“…Oh, I’m sorry.”

Summer apologized in a mumble and lowered her gaze.

Why are people interested in others’ tragedies? That’s probably why such tragedies abound throughout works.

No one would pay attention to a story that’s calm, peaceful, and happy from beginning to end.

Summer was no different.

She felt a cowardly interest in hearing this raw tragedy, away from the always happy Lindsay family.

“Don’t apologize, young lady. I’m old and my words have become careless.”

“No, I spoke thoughtlessly.”

“Young lady. Have you ever wondered if each moment was really your choice?”

“…”

Summer didn’t answer. The coachman’s expression had already answered that sudden question.

The coachman already knew.

That Summer had come out now to make an attempt to return to her original world, squeezing out her last remaining strength.

“Young lady. My granddaughter, she said it was a choice, but it wasn’t a choice. It was clearly coercion by something.”

“I’m different.”

Summer answered stubbornly and lowered her gaze.

What Summer was trying to do was really, rather, an attempt to live.

Since it was to escape from the book and return to the original world, strictly speaking, it wasn’t trying to die.

“When the words ‘there’s no choice’ are attached, it’s good to think again. Whether this action is truly a choice based solely on my own judgment.”

“…”

“Or if it’s helplessness coming from a world that can’t be changed. Or if it’s self-loathing. You can look into that.”

The coachman’s words made her head spin. She felt like throwing up.