"This is as far as I can go. Not just me—nobody from the village will go beyond this point, nor should they. Even if you offered me all the riches in the world, I wouldn't venture any further."
I briefly argued with the coachman, trying to persuade him. Was this a ploy to extract more money? Unnecessary caution toward outsiders? I couldn't quite understand why he was behaving this way, but I couldn't leave the carriage.
There was a good chance I'd arrived before my letter, and even if the letter had arrived first, who knew when the hotel would send a carriage? In short, if I were abandoned here, I might have to walk to the hotel carrying all this luggage.
But as our conversation continued, I realized he had no intention of changing his mind, regardless of what I offered. There was something peculiar about his manner. He kept his gaze fixed on me, avoiding looking beyond the fog, and seemed eager to end our conversation quickly—like someone gripped by fear.
When I asked why he couldn't go any further, the coachman consistently answered:
"Because those are the rules of this place. Rules are absolute, miss."
Eventually, the carriage departed, leaving me alone in the middle of a fog-shrouded road. The situation felt like the opening of a mystery novel.
I tried to calm my nerves as I peered into the fog. Somehow, I needed to find a way to reach the hotel alone. From the moment the carriage left, I'd abandoned any hope that someone from the hotel would come for me soon.
I sighed, fidgeting with the necklace my uncle had given me as a gift years ago.
Should I wait for another carriage to pass by? Impossible. There was no way a carriage would conveniently pass by a hotel tucked away in the western mountains. Even if one did, that coachman would likely also refuse to go any further.
Perhaps I should leave all my luggage here and walk to the hotel. That would be better than freezing to death in the fog. The only flaw in this plan was that I had absolutely no knowledge of the local geography.
I was calculating the probability of getting lost and being devoured by wild animals, or encountering a monster from childhood legends and dying of heart failure, when I heard the sound of hooves and saw a dark shape approaching from the distance. Only when it stopped right in front of me could I confirm it was a carriage.
A coachman descended from the black carriage and greeted me cheerfully.
"Hello! I've come from the Belvedere to escort you. I'm terribly sorry for the late welcome."
Late welcome? It felt like I'd been here for less than five minutes. And I wondered how the hotel had predicted my arrival at this precise time.
A fair-haired boy who looked about fifteen smiled brightly. With gently upturned lips and freckles across the bridge of his nose, he was an adorable child. He seemed too small to drive a carriage—would that be all right? Various questions bloomed in my mind, but I asked the one that puzzled me most.
"Has my letter already reached the hotel? I'm amazed you arrived at such a perfect time."
"Letter? ...Ah, I suppose our manager received your letter and sent me here."
As I continued to regard the boy with skepticism, he added that since trains rarely ran to Grimsworth, the manager must have checked the train schedule in advance and sent him here. Somewhat satisfied with this explanation, I nodded.
The boy, apparently stronger than most adults, effortlessly lifted my heavy luggage and loaded it onto the carriage. I climbed into the carriage, briefly surveying the exterior before taking my seat. The black carriage, intricately adorned with silver engravings, appeared more luxurious than those of most noble families. The two white horses pulling it were also striking.
'A black carriage with white horses—how unusual... It resembles a funeral carriage, which feels somewhat ominous.'
Still, thanks to the carriage's timely arrival, I'd escaped becoming a vagrant in a strange land. As I exhaled in relief, the boy, having confirmed my boarding, closed the carriage door and added:
"Oh, miss. Please try not to look out the carriage windows."
"Why is that?"
"The forest path is narrow, and you might get scratched by tree branches if you stick your face out. Best to be careful."
Soon, the carriage advanced along the narrow forest path. Following the boy's advice, I refrained from looking out the windows. In an unfamiliar environment, it's rarely wise to do exactly what you've been warned against. Besides, in such foggy conditions, there wouldn't be much to see anyway.
I dozed for about an hour, leaning against the rather comfortable seat.
At some point, feeling the carriage gradually slow down, I peeked outside and saw that the fog had lifted. Under clear skies stood an enormous white mansion. Trees and flowers were beautifully arranged around the building, and even from outside, its size appeared palatial.
Is this truly just a hotel? It looks far larger than the Lindtale estate.
Before I could deeply consider how such a massive hotel had established itself in this isolated resort, the carriage came to a complete stop. After adjusting my dress, I rose from my seat to find the boy outside, extending his hand.
I took his hand and stepped down from the carriage. As before, he effortlessly lifted my heavy luggage, saying he would bring it to my room. I sent the coachboy off and faced the hotel entrance directly.
In the center stood a large fountain with a goddess-like statue. Around it bloomed rows of evenly arranged blue roses. Clearly, meticulous attention was paid to garden maintenance. Perhaps the only peculiar thing was that despite the beautiful blossoms, there was no floral fragrance.
Just then, my eyes met those of a lady with light pink hair standing at the hotel entrance. Another guest, perhaps? As our gazes connected—she was beautiful enough to make anyone turn their head—she approached me.
Why is she coming toward me? Does she have something to say? It's awkward talking to strangers... As these thoughts crossed my mind, the woman surprisingly said:
"You must have had a difficult journey. I sincerely apologize for the delayed welcome. I'm Titania, the hotel concierge. The general manager is temporarily away, so I'll be escorting you to your room. We'll provide you with the finest service during your stay at the Belvedere."
The woman wasn't a fellow guest but a hotel employee. Looking more closely, I noticed her attire wasn't an ordinary dress but a neat, uniform-like outfit, and her hair was tied up tidily without a single ornament. How remarkable that such a noble-looking woman served as the hotel concierge.
"...Hello. I'm Kaina Lindtale, who contacted you earlier by letter. I've come urgently after receiving my uncle's letter. I look forward to your assistance during my stay."
She courteously received my greeting, then cheerfully led me to the hotel lobby. Even when I mentioned my deceased uncle, her expression remained unchanged, maintaining her smile. Surely, as a concierge, she must have frequently encountered the owner, my uncle. Perhaps maintaining composure before guests was her professional ethic.
Upon entering the hotel lobby, staff were waiting at the front desk. There didn't appear to be many employees or guests, giving the impression of an exclusive, high-end establishment. Every staff member I passed bowed respectfully. After months of being treated poorly, such courteous behavior felt strangely unfamiliar.
"Your room is on the third floor of the east building, toward the back, so you can stay comfortably without being disturbed by other guests."
Following the concierge's guidance, we soon arrived at the end room on the third floor of the east wing. Opening the door revealed a spacious suite. Sofas and tables fit for royalty or capital nobles, thick velvet curtains, and what appeared to be imported carpets caught my eye.
But that was all. Given that the hotel was owned by my eccentric uncle, I had expected something unusual, but there was nothing of the sort. If I had to find something strange, perhaps the hotel was a bit cold—though that wasn't particularly odd, given its location at the edge of Shetland, where sea winds would naturally blow in.
I decided to address my urgent matter before exploring the room further.
"This is a lovely room. Thank you for guiding me. When might I be able to meet the general manager? I'm eager to discuss matters concerning my uncle."
"The manager will return shortly. Shall I tell him to visit your room as soon as he returns?"
"Yes, please do."
"Understood. Please rest comfortably."
The concierge closed the door carefully, her face still wearing that gentle smile. If "shortly" meant what I thought, he might arrive in about thirty minutes. Just as I was about to step further into the room, someone knocked on the door. At first, I thought she might have forgotten something or omitted some instructions.
But from outside the door came an unfamiliar man's voice.
"Excuse me, miss. I am the general manager of the Belvedere. May I come in?"
...Already? It seemed less than ten seconds since the concierge had left.
As I said before, feel free to pick this up~! And lmk if you do i'm curious to see your translation~~
