Orland couldn't hide his excitement, and even if he remembered the last words she told him...He would never let an opportunity to show his affection to Marianne slip out of his hands.
He somehow got himself together and showed her inside.
When he told her he had asked for the tea she liked and offered her cookies, he tried not to look nervous.
Orland had the habit of always looking at her eyes. Since she had no expression and her eyes were always getting duller, her eyes were the only part of her that showed him something. Even if it was only their light fading...
But after offering the tea and cookies... he saw it. Her eyes weren't as darkened as before... then, she nodded. A nod... the only thing she did as means of communication... His daughter had done it with a lot of energy. The strongest he has seen in the last ten years.
Orland couldn't help but bite the inside of his lower lip, to the point it might bleed, suppressing the rush of emotions inside him. But, unexpectedly, words poured out of his mouth. His feelings had made his efforts futile.
"It's been so long since you've come here...When you were little you used to come here to practice your writing, and talk to me about the dream you had that day or just look at me work..."
"..."
"I wish I could have heard your voice better at the time... now I wouldn't struggle with the blurred memories of how it sounded."
He couldn't help it. As he was speaking he knew it might have been a mistake to tell her this. So he smiled, saddened as he finished.
When Orland saw her standing up from her seat... he panicked. He felt his world falling apart as the blood left his body.
'...No.....!'
Then, Marianne, instead of heading to the door as he had supposed she would, went to his side and sat beside him. The Duke, struggled, not being able to process what was happening.
She was staring at him. Eyes being the brightest in ten years. Then, she placed her delicate hand on top of his. Bewildered, he could not believe how things were turning.
'...I hope this isn't a dream... please... God...'
He felt a light squeeze on the hand she had placed hers on. As he saw how she gently closed her beautiful eyes that she had inherited from him, fluttering her dreamy long eyelashes, a light careful nod was added. It was a message, an attempt to convey her thoughts. A short message... that had her soul and original personality in it. That very soul he had assumed was slowly dying.
— It's fine. —
'Is this what you mean to say...? ...Can I interpret it like that?... May I be conceited this time...?'
Orland became extremely emotional on the inside. The only thing he managed to do was smile at his daughter from the bottom of his heart. He still couldn't believe a very little part of her old self was showing itself in front of him again.
As if his life depended on it, the Duke took her hand preciously, as if it could disintegrate if he wasn't careful enough, and wrapped it with his other hand, caressing it.
Just how desperate has he been all these years...yearning to stroke her little hands with his own. Orland felt himself tearing up. The tiny and plump hands were nowhere to be found. So much time had passed that the realization of his daughter's growth made him feel a little dejected.
'I mustn't... this is not about me...' — Without letting such emotions interfere, Orland reminded himself who the truly important one was.
"...I see... My baby has grown up a lot..."
As he calmed down, he glanced at her, wondering if she was alright. Every time he looked at Marianne, he couldn't help but memorize her facial features, which had sharpened with the time.
'I must take all the details in... this is the face my daughter has... as she is slowly coming back to me...'
When he had taken note of every detail, he found courage inside and caressed her face from the side of her forehead, through her temple... and down her soft cheek.
"...My beautiful baby..."
'I won't forget... I've imprinted this sight in my mind. A new portrait must be made today...'
A while after, the Duke asked Marianne if she needed anything.
For some reason, he could sense she was not there to spend time with him. Even so, it wasn't bad if that wasn't the case. He was still holding hope. He was always hopeful when it came to Marianne.
'If she has something to ask for... maybe...just, maybe... Will I be able to hear... her voice again?'
Soon, that hope crumbled. With gestures, Marianne had asked for something to write on. Now he knew he wouldn't be able to listen to her voice, which made him feel a sense of great sadness.
As he went to his desk for what she had asked, once again he regained his hope.
'It just won't happen today. Surely... one day...'
The Duke thought, and going back to her side he placed the paper, ink and quill on the table.
Orland felt fidgety. Yet, when he watched her lean over to write, He froze in place.
Just as how she did when young... just as he remembered... she was writing just how she used to.
'...'
Once his daughter showed him what she had written... When he read the contents of it... his eyes became fixated on one word.
[Father]
He read it repeatedly in his head. Orland read it again and again. He could have kept staring at those letters for an eternity. Every time he read the letters written by her, he felt it as if she was saying the word herself.
'...I wish she had written Papa...' — Letting himself get ahead for a moment, he thought. However, he got himself together again.
'No... I might have died if she did...' — Too many emotions were bad for the Duke's heart.
"Do tell me, Dear. I will grant your every wish."
The Duke was just an ordinary man... so, like any father, he tried to appear cool to his daughter.
While discussing what she wanted, he slowly became too comfortable.
Impressed by his daughter's idea, he was even thinking of making a new business inspired by it. However, Marianne surprised him once again with her logical explanation of why he shouldn't do that.
"You're quite smart... I'm blessed to have such a clever daughter."
Orland was always optimistic. Knowing his daughter had such intellect, he felt his heart inflated full of pride.
'Thomas won't believe this... when I go back to the Royal Palace I will brag to His Majesty too. That will show him how precious Marianne is!'
Reassuring Marianne he would take care of her request and have it ready as soon as possible, knowing that his request would be taken as a priority by the crafters.
When she took the paper back from his hand and wrote something again, he became nervous for a reason he could not identify.
[Thank you. Father.]
The words written said nothing bad, but reading them, he suddenly felt sad.
"Ah... yes, Dear." — Orland reflexively answered.
'Does this mean... she is leaving?... Already...?' — Finally, once these thoughts emerged, the Duke became able to pinpoint the source of his sadness. It was all because her visit was soon to come to an end.
Regardless, she did not move, contradicting his assumptions. She stayed in her place, glancing through his office as if she was making time...waiting.
'... Ah...'
Seeing this, he braced himself. Thinking of this as an opportunity, he would never let one slip out from his hand, NEVER.
Full of determination, he called her name.
"Marianne..."
As soon as her name left his mouth, the girl's gaze met his.
Orland felt shy and insecure all of a sudden. What he was about to do could be called a gamble.
However, he would never stop himself because of that.