In the end, I couldn't control the surging emotions and ended up taking it out on others.
"Stop it. What era is this that makes you assault people in a place like this?"
My raised voice caused the surroundings to become cold. Countess Ruben, who had been dragged away, had recklessly thrown aside two young maids and was now following behind.
Ayla's cheeks gradually turned a deep shade of blue, as if she had been bruised. Olivia lowered her hand and placed it on her waist, the corners of her mouth twisting strangely. As if she had been waiting, she countered.
"Oh my? Madam, you treat her like a human being. There were rumors that you were friendly with such a shallow woman, and it seems to be true. Some people even saw them talking at the palace."
"So what? Is it any worse than violence against others?"
My sharp question left her speechless, her mouth hanging open. When I closed my mouth and snorted, Olivia's eyes narrowed.
“Madam, what’s so funny?”
"It seems you don't even know what your remarks mean. You don't even realize they're an insult to the Princess, who has a maid who calls her vulgar."
"It's different. I entrusted her with my makeup today, but she couldn't even tighten my corset properly, and ny hair was a mess. The Princess takes in such a lacking person and pays her a salary. What greater act of kindness can there be?"
"Isn't that just your subjective opinion? Your own opinion is what matters. I'm not sure you'd think that way if you were put through this."
From a distance, Erita stood watching with her arms folded. Olivia glanced at her, clenched her fists, and opened her mouth.
"How can you handle your superior's bullying without anyone's help? Oh, I guess you're saying she's someone who only shows kindness for show and doesn't take responsibility for the inequality she experiences afterwards."
"Why do you keep pushing me that way? I never said anything like that!"
Olivia screamed. I grabbed Ayla's pale, terrified hand and helped her up. I pointed to the bluish bruise on her cheek and answered.
"You acted that way. It was Miss Daywood who was at fault. Is there anyone who will take your side now?"
"What did I do? I come from a truly noble family, and my father was a senator in the House of Lords. This woman is just a commoner. We're on a different level, aren't we?"
Olivia looked around, seemingly aggrieved, trying to gain their consent. Even if she was deeply ingrained in her elitism, it clashed with the virtues of the privileged class, which demanded humility and high moral standards, so no one could defend her. The Princess must have had Olivia provoke me, unable to do it herself. I tilted my chin up and looked down at her.
"If you want a slimmer waist, instead of blaming the corset and slapping the maid, why don't you just take out a rib? I'll introduce you to a doctor I know. He's a psychiatrist, of course."
"It's outrageous! No matter how much you defend that government, no one will acknowledge it. Instead, they'll just see you as one of their own, because you're not a noble person at all."
“It doesn’t matter. Ayla and I decided to be friends.”
Ayla looked at me with a surprised expression. I considered Ayla Delson, as a person, to be quite decent. The women who arrived late to provide support began to look Ayla and me up and down, sneering.
"What's the standard for a government maid? You ignore all our invitations."
Olivia, who was as elated as a strong standing army, crossed her arms and raised her nose proudly.
“If you hang out with such a shallow person, you will be judged equally.”
But that was short-lived, as a holy voice, filled with anger, quickly silenced Olivia's mouth.
"Then I'm also a shallow person. I'm acquainted with those two people. And I'm Diana's aunt."
Her eyes flickered slightly as she saw Countess Ruben. Standing erect, not at all hunched, she possessed a dignified presence despite her small, slender frame and was as sturdy as a deep-rooted tree.
"You're so wrong to judge people's worth so arbitrarily and classify them. I question the educational methods of the Count of Daywood's family. Since you don't seem to understand your faults, let me point them out one by one."
Olivia, her expression bewildered, remained silent before Countess Ruben, who was constantly nitpicking her every single fault. The supporters who had been adding their voices were no different. Count Harrison and Esmeralda looked at her with bitter expressions.
"Mrs. Rotsilt? What's going on?"
Barbara, who had been in the outdoor tea room with Vincent, returned to the banquet hall, her ashen eyes widening. She'd seen Ayla, her cheeks bruised and blue, and me confronting Olivia's group. I gave her a brief, factual account.
“She beat the maid indiscriminately. She said that because she was a noblewoman, she could beat the maid, saying that her rank was this or that.”
Barbara, who hated discrimination and bullying, flushed with rage. Seeing Olivia approaching with such force that she threatened to throw her into the inferno, she took Ayla aside under the pretext of treating her.
Countess Ruben followed me to the entrance and took my hand.
The bright blue eyes looking at me felt incredibly affectionate and warm. I was familiar with those eyes.
“Diana, no matter what anyone says, you are my sister, Agnes’ daughter. You are my niece.”
I unintentionally deceived her, trying to keep her from revealing my royal status. I felt a pang of discomfort, as if something had been offending me. But I couldn't tell her the truth, so I bowed my head and showed my respect.
“Thank you, Countess Ruben.”
"From now on, you can call me Aunt. Your cousin Esmeralda isn't such a bad girl. She just reads and studies, and in other ways, she's immature. Please understand."
“Yes. I’m still not used to being called ‘aunt’...”
"That's right. I hope you'll call me that someday. Your mother, Agnes, was a brave and wonderful person. She probably had her own circumstances we don't know about. And Miss Delson, I'm on your side, so don't feel alone."
Ayla's lips were puckered as if she was about to burst into tears.
“Thank you very much, Countess Ruben.”
The Countess looked at me intently. It felt like she was searching for something resembling the Duchess of Groenendaal, and my conscience prickled.
"I'll go get some treatment, ma'am. There's a serious bruise on Ayla's cheek."
“As expected, Agnes’ daughter has a kind heart.”
"Oh, this isn't it." I forced a smile to my face and led Ayla out. I went to the infirmary for junior officers, took some ointment from the cupboard, and sat down next to her.
“Did you break up with that guy named Mastiff?”
I don't recall any more injuries on her body or face since she told me she was meeting him. Now, her treatment has worsened, with her being thrown at a mean noblewoman and openly ordered to assault her. That's the only way to believe it.
“I don’t think that was the kind of relationship we had in the first place. It was a relationship of use.”
Ayla sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the rough sheets tightly, holding back tears. Why had she so readily believed in the kindness of others? I'm not good at offering comfort, so I simply waited quietly for her to speak. Then she asked me.
"Madam, what's the opposite of salvation? No matter how much I think about it, I can't figure it out."
“I don’t know either.”
Tragedy? Despair? Betrayal? Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen such exact opposites. Ayla's sobbing voice leaked out, covering her face with both hands.
“Is there really no such thing as salvation?”
"There's no opposite, right? Why would you make up a word that doesn't exist? Isn't it something like, "There's nothing that can't be saved?"
I tried to sound kind and make things sound plausible. The obvious comforts—like, "Meet another man," "There are plenty of men out there"—seemed completely useless.
“Forget it.”
I was easily saying the most difficult words in the world.
“You can do it again.”
This is what Daniel said to Boaz, who had been visiting the mansion before and had repeatedly failed to catch the ball.
In the quiet infirmary, we sat side by side in silence. The place was empty with silence, yet it was filled with someone's sorrow, overflowing.
Noah, as Diana had suggested, remained elsewhere until the ball began. He was in a room where high-ranking nobles, prominent figures, and a few officials gathered, along with the Duke of Stanley, the head of the House of Lords and Prime Minister, the Marquis of Wales, and the Duke of Hessen, both members of the House of Lords.
“I should go. The ball is starting.”
Noah got up first, looking at his wristwatch, and the Marquis of Wales, who had been smoking a cigar, smiled.
"You're newlyweds... I envy you. Your Excellency, Your Highness, the Duke. Come and chat with me. My wife isn't here either, so I have no one to dance with."
Noah entered the banquet hall and looked around for Diana, but she was nowhere to be found. Deciding to wait, he picked up a glass from the wine table when someone greeted him.
“Hello, Count.”
It was Olivia with a fake smile.
He sat down at the table, drank some wine, rubbed his lips, and asked in an annoyed tone.
“Who was it?”
"No way. You don't remember, do you? I saw you when you visited Loganfield before."
“I don’t remember.”
“Have you heard the rumor? I heard your wife is in a lot of trouble.”
"So?"
Olivia, embarrassed by his expressionless face, tangled her hair with her fingers and darted her eyes around.
“Do you not know?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you about it somewhere else. I don’t think it’s possible to talk about it here.”
Noah, who had always maintained an indifferent and cynical attitude, smiled.
"Is it so?"
Olivia's eyes sparkled. She glanced around, searching for Diana, and smiled.
“Let’s go up to the terrace.”
Olivia and Noah climbed the stairs to the empty terrace. He followed without a word.
Olivia, standing on the terrace, clasped her hands together and blushed slightly.
“Did you know that? Back when you were a colonel and a Duke, the first time I saw you in your military uniform, I thought you were radiant.”
“Yeah. I see.”
She smiled, her face seductive, as she gently tugged at his sleeve. One hand gently lifted the hem of her skirt. It was a time-honored expression of seduction among the aristocracy.
“I suppose the Count has a lover, too. Everyone does these days.”
Olivia, seeing Noah brush his bangs back and smile beautifully, unconsciously covered her flushed cheek with her hand. He asked in his characteristically languid voice.
“You want to be my lover? I guess you don’t like the government.”
"Huh? I'm the eldest daughter of the Count of Daywood. I don't need any money, I just..."
Olivia shook her head, lowering it as Noah stared intently at her. She glanced up, startled by his unbuttoning his uniform coat.
“It’s the name of the Count’s family.”
He muttered to himself, hung his uniform coat on the terrace railing, and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
Olivia's face flushed with a subtle anticipation. She closed her eyes, her heart racing as Noah's hand gently squeezed her shoulder, almost cautiously. But the voice that reached her ear was utterly cold.
“Aren’t the government and lovers the same?”
"Yes?"
Her heart was still pounding, but it was a different kind of pounding, closer to fear. She felt a strong pressure pressing down on her shoulders. A chill as cold as midwinter passed through Olivia's neck, sending a chill down her spine, and her feet trembled in the air.
“It’s vulgar and disgusting.”
Olivia's face paled as she was gripped tightly around the neck, accompanied by a cold voice. She felt suffocated as she looked into those dark, lifeless eyes.
“Enough to make me want to kill you.”
He was still smiling elegantly as he spoke those chilling words.
"Stop it. What era is this that makes you assault people in a place like this?"
My raised voice caused the surroundings to become cold. Countess Ruben, who had been dragged away, had recklessly thrown aside two young maids and was now following behind.
Ayla's cheeks gradually turned a deep shade of blue, as if she had been bruised. Olivia lowered her hand and placed it on her waist, the corners of her mouth twisting strangely. As if she had been waiting, she countered.
"Oh my? Madam, you treat her like a human being. There were rumors that you were friendly with such a shallow woman, and it seems to be true. Some people even saw them talking at the palace."
"So what? Is it any worse than violence against others?"
My sharp question left her speechless, her mouth hanging open. When I closed my mouth and snorted, Olivia's eyes narrowed.
“Madam, what’s so funny?”
"It seems you don't even know what your remarks mean. You don't even realize they're an insult to the Princess, who has a maid who calls her vulgar."
"It's different. I entrusted her with my makeup today, but she couldn't even tighten my corset properly, and ny hair was a mess. The Princess takes in such a lacking person and pays her a salary. What greater act of kindness can there be?"
"Isn't that just your subjective opinion? Your own opinion is what matters. I'm not sure you'd think that way if you were put through this."
From a distance, Erita stood watching with her arms folded. Olivia glanced at her, clenched her fists, and opened her mouth.
“Naturally, once she was brought in as a maid, shouldn't she handle subsequent matters on her own? The Princess is a very busy person, after all...”
"Why do you keep pushing me that way? I never said anything like that!"
Olivia screamed. I grabbed Ayla's pale, terrified hand and helped her up. I pointed to the bluish bruise on her cheek and answered.
"You acted that way. It was Miss Daywood who was at fault. Is there anyone who will take your side now?"
"What did I do? I come from a truly noble family, and my father was a senator in the House of Lords. This woman is just a commoner. We're on a different level, aren't we?"
Olivia looked around, seemingly aggrieved, trying to gain their consent. Even if she was deeply ingrained in her elitism, it clashed with the virtues of the privileged class, which demanded humility and high moral standards, so no one could defend her. The Princess must have had Olivia provoke me, unable to do it herself. I tilted my chin up and looked down at her.
"If you want a slimmer waist, instead of blaming the corset and slapping the maid, why don't you just take out a rib? I'll introduce you to a doctor I know. He's a psychiatrist, of course."
"It's outrageous! No matter how much you defend that government, no one will acknowledge it. Instead, they'll just see you as one of their own, because you're not a noble person at all."
“It doesn’t matter. Ayla and I decided to be friends.”
Ayla looked at me with a surprised expression. I considered Ayla Delson, as a person, to be quite decent. The women who arrived late to provide support began to look Ayla and me up and down, sneering.
"What's the standard for a government maid? You ignore all our invitations."
Olivia, who was as elated as a strong standing army, crossed her arms and raised her nose proudly.
“If you hang out with such a shallow person, you will be judged equally.”
But that was short-lived, as a holy voice, filled with anger, quickly silenced Olivia's mouth.
"Then I'm also a shallow person. I'm acquainted with those two people. And I'm Diana's aunt."
Her eyes flickered slightly as she saw Countess Ruben. Standing erect, not at all hunched, she possessed a dignified presence despite her small, slender frame and was as sturdy as a deep-rooted tree.
"You're so wrong to judge people's worth so arbitrarily and classify them. I question the educational methods of the Count of Daywood's family. Since you don't seem to understand your faults, let me point them out one by one."
Olivia, her expression bewildered, remained silent before Countess Ruben, who was constantly nitpicking her every single fault. The supporters who had been adding their voices were no different. Count Harrison and Esmeralda looked at her with bitter expressions.
"Mrs. Rotsilt? What's going on?"
Barbara, who had been in the outdoor tea room with Vincent, returned to the banquet hall, her ashen eyes widening. She'd seen Ayla, her cheeks bruised and blue, and me confronting Olivia's group. I gave her a brief, factual account.
“She beat the maid indiscriminately. She said that because she was a noblewoman, she could beat the maid, saying that her rank was this or that.”
Barbara, who hated discrimination and bullying, flushed with rage. Seeing Olivia approaching with such force that she threatened to throw her into the inferno, she took Ayla aside under the pretext of treating her.
Countess Ruben followed me to the entrance and took my hand.
The bright blue eyes looking at me felt incredibly affectionate and warm. I was familiar with those eyes.
“Diana, no matter what anyone says, you are my sister, Agnes’ daughter. You are my niece.”
I unintentionally deceived her, trying to keep her from revealing my royal status. I felt a pang of discomfort, as if something had been offending me. But I couldn't tell her the truth, so I bowed my head and showed my respect.
“Thank you, Countess Ruben.”
"From now on, you can call me Aunt. Your cousin Esmeralda isn't such a bad girl. She just reads and studies, and in other ways, she's immature. Please understand."
“Yes. I’m still not used to being called ‘aunt’...”
"That's right. I hope you'll call me that someday. Your mother, Agnes, was a brave and wonderful person. She probably had her own circumstances we don't know about. And Miss Delson, I'm on your side, so don't feel alone."
Ayla's lips were puckered as if she was about to burst into tears.
“Thank you very much, Countess Ruben.”
The Countess looked at me intently. It felt like she was searching for something resembling the Duchess of Groenendaal, and my conscience prickled.
"I'll go get some treatment, ma'am. There's a serious bruise on Ayla's cheek."
“As expected, Agnes’ daughter has a kind heart.”
"Oh, this isn't it." I forced a smile to my face and led Ayla out. I went to the infirmary for junior officers, took some ointment from the cupboard, and sat down next to her.
“Did you break up with that guy named Mastiff?”
I don't recall any more injuries on her body or face since she told me she was meeting him. Now, her treatment has worsened, with her being thrown at a mean noblewoman and openly ordered to assault her. That's the only way to believe it.
“I don’t think that was the kind of relationship we had in the first place. It was a relationship of use.”
Ayla sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the rough sheets tightly, holding back tears. Why had she so readily believed in the kindness of others? I'm not good at offering comfort, so I simply waited quietly for her to speak. Then she asked me.
"Madam, what's the opposite of salvation? No matter how much I think about it, I can't figure it out."
“I don’t know either.”
Tragedy? Despair? Betrayal? Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen such exact opposites. Ayla's sobbing voice leaked out, covering her face with both hands.
“Is there really no such thing as salvation?”
"There's no opposite, right? Why would you make up a word that doesn't exist? Isn't it something like, "There's nothing that can't be saved?"
I tried to sound kind and make things sound plausible. The obvious comforts—like, "Meet another man," "There are plenty of men out there"—seemed completely useless.
“Forget it.”
I was easily saying the most difficult words in the world.
“You can do it again.”
This is what Daniel said to Boaz, who had been visiting the mansion before and had repeatedly failed to catch the ball.
In the quiet infirmary, we sat side by side in silence. The place was empty with silence, yet it was filled with someone's sorrow, overflowing.
***
Noah, as Diana had suggested, remained elsewhere until the ball began. He was in a room where high-ranking nobles, prominent figures, and a few officials gathered, along with the Duke of Stanley, the head of the House of Lords and Prime Minister, the Marquis of Wales, and the Duke of Hessen, both members of the House of Lords.
“I should go. The ball is starting.”
Noah got up first, looking at his wristwatch, and the Marquis of Wales, who had been smoking a cigar, smiled.
"You're newlyweds... I envy you. Your Excellency, Your Highness, the Duke. Come and chat with me. My wife isn't here either, so I have no one to dance with."
Noah entered the banquet hall and looked around for Diana, but she was nowhere to be found. Deciding to wait, he picked up a glass from the wine table when someone greeted him.
“Hello, Count.”
It was Olivia with a fake smile.
He sat down at the table, drank some wine, rubbed his lips, and asked in an annoyed tone.
“Who was it?”
"No way. You don't remember, do you? I saw you when you visited Loganfield before."
“I don’t remember.”
“Have you heard the rumor? I heard your wife is in a lot of trouble.”
"So?"
Olivia, embarrassed by his expressionless face, tangled her hair with her fingers and darted her eyes around.
“Do you not know?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you about it somewhere else. I don’t think it’s possible to talk about it here.”
Noah, who had always maintained an indifferent and cynical attitude, smiled.
"Is it so?"
Olivia's eyes sparkled. She glanced around, searching for Diana, and smiled.
“Let’s go up to the terrace.”
Olivia and Noah climbed the stairs to the empty terrace. He followed without a word.
Olivia, standing on the terrace, clasped her hands together and blushed slightly.
“Did you know that? Back when you were a colonel and a Duke, the first time I saw you in your military uniform, I thought you were radiant.”
“Yeah. I see.”
She smiled, her face seductive, as she gently tugged at his sleeve. One hand gently lifted the hem of her skirt. It was a time-honored expression of seduction among the aristocracy.
“I suppose the Count has a lover, too. Everyone does these days.”
Olivia, seeing Noah brush his bangs back and smile beautifully, unconsciously covered her flushed cheek with her hand. He asked in his characteristically languid voice.
“You want to be my lover? I guess you don’t like the government.”
"Huh? I'm the eldest daughter of the Count of Daywood. I don't need any money, I just..."
Olivia shook her head, lowering it as Noah stared intently at her. She glanced up, startled by his unbuttoning his uniform coat.
“It’s the name of the Count’s family.”
He muttered to himself, hung his uniform coat on the terrace railing, and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
Olivia's face flushed with a subtle anticipation. She closed her eyes, her heart racing as Noah's hand gently squeezed her shoulder, almost cautiously. But the voice that reached her ear was utterly cold.
“Aren’t the government and lovers the same?”
"Yes?"
Her heart was still pounding, but it was a different kind of pounding, closer to fear. She felt a strong pressure pressing down on her shoulders. A chill as cold as midwinter passed through Olivia's neck, sending a chill down her spine, and her feet trembled in the air.
“It’s vulgar and disgusting.”
Olivia's face paled as she was gripped tightly around the neck, accompanied by a cold voice. She felt suffocated as she looked into those dark, lifeless eyes.
“Enough to make me want to kill you.”
He was still smiling elegantly as he spoke those chilling words.
Comments
Post a Comment