Even during Svanhild's lesson, Rose was so fuming that she couldn't concentrate at all. In any case, Svanhild barely listened to her lessons. Rose used Svanhild's neglect as an excuse to act as irresponsibly as she pleased.
After the lesson ended and they left the study together, they ran into Anna. Svanhild, whose spirit had been absent all through the lesson, suddenly lit up, then declared that he'd been planning to go to the garden with Rose and insisted that Anna should come along too.
The garden was another trace of the Marchioness left in this Swan Grave. It wasn't a forbidden area like the Marchioness's room, but the flowers there were treated as more precious than people, and no one but the Marquess could lay a hand on them.
A few years ago, a foolish servant once plucked a flower from that garden to give to his lover, and a few days later he disappeared without a trace. Since then, the servants avoided the garden altogether.
And now to bring Anna to that garden? Rose could tell at once that Svanhild's intentions were far from good.
The first maid their father had ever kept by his side. A cunning child like Svanhild would already have noticed that Anna could become a replacement for his mother.
The existence of a woman who threatened to erase his mother's traces would be a thorn in his side. When Rose had first come to the mansion, she too had tried to win Svanhild's favor, but had he ever allowed a gap? He had been only five years old.
Perhaps he was planning to push Anna into a trap. For an eleven-year-old, it was a dark and sinister scheme, but Svanhild was always a calculating child whose thoughts couldn't be read.
Though Rose didn't know exactly what Svanhild was plotting, if it meant making Anna suffer, then Rose was in agreement. For once, she and Svanhild shared the same view. Rose took Svanhild's side and brought Anna to the garden.
Sure enough, Svanhild suggested that Anna pick some flowers.
She didn't know why Rothbart had brought her to the garden the day before, but just because he had allowed it once didn't mean she could trample the Marchioness's domain with her dirty feet.
What would the Marquess do if he learned she had picked the flowers? Just imagining it brought a smile to Rose's lips. To push Anna over the cliff, Rose decided to step in more actively.
Rose secretly took the pruning shears without telling the gardener.
Anna seemed unaware of the mansion's small taboos. She instinctively felt uneasy, but she didn't know exactly what was forbidden. Perhaps that was why, though she acted with great caution, she still accepted the snare handed to her and slipped it around her own neck.
After Anna had plucked a large bundle of roses and headed back toward the mansion, Rose belatedly informed the gardener.
"She picked the flowers. Young master and I tried to stop her, but she cut them anyway, so there was nothing we could do. She was truly insolent. She's only a maid, but she acts as if she thinks she's the Marchioness."
The gardener's face turned deathly pale.
Had Anna really plucked the flowers despite Svanhild's protest, it would have been Svanhild, not Rose, who gave word to the gardener. But in his panic, the gardener failed to think that far. He believed Rose's words without doubt.
The gardener had always been sensitive about others visiting the garden. But this time, with Svanhild present, the governess too, and the personal maid—he trusted that none would dare lay a hand on the flowers and let them in without hesitation.
He shouldn't have done so!
Had he been there, he would have raised hell to stop Anna. But it was too late now.
The flowers in the garden were his responsibility. Rothbart would surely hold him accountable. If being expelled from his post was the only punishment, he could count himself lucky. As it was, he might as well be standing at the gallows with the fire at his feet.
Even so… perhaps it could be quietly covered up? The Marquess did not check the garden that often. If he managed to fill in the empty spots somehow before the Marquess noticed, maybe it could pass without discovery…
Conflict welled up in the gardener's heart. But such thoughts were not what Rose wanted. Rose whispered in a regretful tone, fanning his anxiety.
"As soon as the Marquess returns from his outing, you must report this situation to him."
"Must… I really do that? Is it necessary…?"
"Of course. If that personal maid reaches the Marquess first… If she lies that you gave her the flowers, or that you stood by and did nothing, you will be in real danger. The Marquess is not the sort to investigate every detail carefully. Isn't that so?"
"That may be true, but…"
"If you end up being held responsible for something you didn't even do, wouldn't that be too unjust? I'm only telling you this because I feel guilty for not stopping her myself. I'm not forcing you. In the end, the choice is yours."
The gardener hesitated, unable to muster courage easily. But Rose's words kept echoing in his mind.
If that maid really pinned all the blame for picking the flowers on him… The cold Marquess might not believe her entirely, but he wouldn't bother to investigate deeply either.
Just as Rose said, the only way to express his innocence was to speak up quickly and beg forgiveness. Having made up his mind, the gardener spent the whole day on edge, and as soon as Rothbart's carriage arrived at the mansion, he rushed over.
Every movement of Rothbart as he descended from the carriage was elegant. When Rothbart handed his hat and cane to the butler, the gardener hesitated, then forced himself to approach him.
"M-my lord, I have something to report."
"What is it?"
Despite the gardener's uneasy demeanor, Rothbart remained indifferent. The gardener squeezed his eyes shut and confessed.
"Th-the Marquess's personal maid… cut the madam's flowers."
"What?"
As expected, Rothbart's thick brows shot up and sparks flew in his calm voice.
Just standing before him, the gardener's legs trembled and his jaw quivered. But he couldn't remain silent before Rothbart's cold fury. He tried his best to defend himself and save his life.
"I-I am truly sorry for failing to guard them. But it all happened so suddenly…"
"Ha!"
Like a statue, Rothbart's lips twisted and he let out an incredulous sigh. That alone was enough to terrify the servants. Those nearby inhaled sharply under the unseen pressure.
"P-please forgive me."
The gardener collapsed flat, afraid of being blamed himself. His breath caught in his throat, and his vision went white.
Rothbart, paying no heed to the gardener's desperate pleas, sharply turned to the butler and asked, "Where is Anna now?"
"…Most likely in the maids' quarters."
"Bring her to my room at once."
The butler had been about to defend Anna, saying she would never have intended to deceive the Marquess. But facing Rothbart's blazing eyes, he could say nothing.
Without making any effort to quell his anger, Rothbart strode to his room. Watching his master's figure disappear into the mansion, the gardener let out a small sigh of relief. It seemed all the Marquess's fury had shifted entirely onto the personal maid.
At the sudden turn of events, the servants all whispered among themselves, chattering about the situation. Susan and the other maids who heard the news stared wide-eyed.
"How could she end up picking the flowers?"
"I don't know. I saw Anna carrying flowers into the mansion earlier, but I never thought they were from the garden."
Betty shuddered. Worry clouded Susan's face.
"Weren't the young master and Miss Schwartz with her? Why didn't anyone stop her?"