After speaking with the Marchioness, Ayla returned to her cramped, shabby room and sighed as she looked at her resignation letter, tattered and smudged from the rain.
'So please help me from now on.'
She remembered the gentle voice of the Marchioness of Wales.
As soon as she thought it wasn't time to leave, a sharp pain struck her lower abdomen, and her back ached. It felt as if the child inside her was worried about her, so Ayla stroked her belly and spoke soothingly.
"Honey, Mommy has precious people I must protect. Even though it's hard, please bear with it a little longer."
Despite countless moments of joy and sorrow, Ayla believed in her choice. Heading to that unfamiliar land, where freedom and equal opportunity were open to all, without an aristocracy, was a new beginning for her, a hopeful situation.
She felt it wouldn't be too late to leave and wait for Mastiff, who would eventually come back, even after helping Diana. It was the right course of action and the best choice.
I was sitting at my dressing table, staring blankly at my face in the mirror, getting ready for a dinner party at the Marquis of Wales's mansion.
Large, gray-green eyes, indifferent to worldly affairs, lips that seem indifferent. An expression that at first glance seems cynical. As lifeless as my appearance, I don't want to go outside. Wasn't it customary to cancel plans when it rains?
It had been raining for three days straight, and I was feeling a bit sluggish. Even though winter, the rainy season here, was well past, it felt like the beginning of a damp, monsoon season. I heard the maid's voice behind me.
“Miss. How do you like these clothes?”
“Good.”
“Hey, did you see it correctly?”
The maid's voice was laced with a hint of regret. Having only caught a glimpse of her through the mirror, I finally turned my head to show I had seen her properly. She unfolded the dress, as if to show off. It was a decent two-piece, a black silk top and a wine-colored corset skirt.
“You have good taste. It would be pretty even if I didn’t look closely.”
The maid's cheek flushed shyly. I tried not to give the mansion's maids a bad impression, but I also tried to avoid personal conversations and avoid getting too close. There were incidents like someone stealing my wedding ring and finding out I was a spy, and I was even more cautious after hearing Noah's previous remarks about pro-Froggen forces.
“Don’t you wear makeup? I’m really good at it.”
The maid showed me a confident look, holding makeup brushes between her fingers that she'd gotten from some unknown source. I held back a chuckle and shook my head.
“I only apply it to my lips.”
“You’re pretty even without makeup, but with your milky skin and dreamy eye color, I can see how your image would change completely depending on the makeup, so I’m greedy.”
“I understand how you feel, but I don’t want to do it.”
"When you wore makeup on your wedding day, you looked like Queen Grace. Perhaps it's because your makeup style is so trendy. You're the one all the Medea women want to resemble, so everyone copies your clothes, makeup, and hairstyle."
On my wedding day, I had no choice but to wear full makeup. But it was a wedding, so I couldn't go bare-faced. Being told I resembled a Queen isn't a compliment, from my perspective. This maid talks too much. Rosie, the maid from Frogen, was also quite chatty, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
“Just go back now.”
At my command, she slumped her shoulders with a sullen face, bowed, and left the room.
I finished up my preparations and headed downstairs. Boaz, who was sitting at Dr. Rugen's feet in the living room armchair, turned to me and wagged his tail vigorously.
“It’s raining, where are you going, Solar?”
Dr. Rugen asked me. I paused to consider where he was in his memories, and then remembered that he had a younger sister in his family.
“I’ll go to dinner.”
“Are you going to Josephine’s house? You have to come back early.”
Behind the old man's smile toward me, there was a young man. He was drifting ever further into the past. It's a disease that can be slowed, but not stopped. Time seems to accelerate with each passing moment. Someone here said it was a disease that caused people to yearn for the past, so much so that they were tormented by the present.
“Boaz, playing with the doctor.”
Boaz, who had followed us to the front door as we were leaving, groaned. It seemed like he'd be fine in about two hours. I hugged Boaz's neck and patted his butt.
“You can take it with you. Just leave it in the garden.”
Noah spoke, wrapping his hand around the leash hanging on the coat rack next to the front door. Boaz, seeing the brown leather leash, stuck out his tongue, panted, and wagged his tail.
Noah, who had put a ring on Boaz's necklace and fastened the rope, opened the front door and walked ahead. I stood a few steps behind them, watching. I could hear Noah talking to Boaz, looking down at him.
"I'll assign you the task of destroying pine seedlings. You've been bragging about how much you bought and planted expensive pine trees."
As soon as we arrived at the Marquis of Wales's mansion, the elegantly dressed Marchioness greeted us with a smile. The Marquis' eldest son, Clad, looked surprised at Boaz, who was wagging his tail. He quickly smiled as Boaz lowered his head, as if asking for a pet.
“Father, Mother. I want to raise a puppy too.”
"If you get good grades on the test, I'll buy you a pedigree dog. Especially since you're not very good at math, right?"
At the Marquis's words, Clad made a sad face.
We were led by a servant into the spacious banquet hall. A long table covered in white tablecloths was filled with a sumptuous feast, and a chandelier from the high ceiling shone with golden light.
Smoked salmon and shrimp were served as appetizers, while main courses included venison, stuffed turkey, and butter-smoked goose. A salad of cabbage, carrots, and red cabbage was also served alongside various other dishes.
Perhaps because it was a gathering of politicians, bureaucrats, and businessmen, it felt opulent and extravagant. The world was still at war. The desolate lands I'd seen on my way here, the bombed-out ruins, brought a sense of unease. The upper class seemed to live in a completely different world. I, too, often forget the possibility of imminent war.
The Duke of Hessen, who had just arrived, greeted me politely. I doubted that man was one of Mastiff's. Then, looking at Daniel, who narrowed his red eyes at me and smiled innocently, I tried to dismiss it as a mere worry.
As I was nibbling on the meat that had been placed on my appetizer plate, the Marchioness sitting right next to me kindly asked me to pour some Cumberland sauce on the meat.
“Isn’t this kind of place boring? Me too.”
“Oh, no. The food is really good.”
“Is that so? We recently hired a chef from France.”
So it tasted good. I was a little worried that something bizarre would come out. She spoke in a comforting, affectionate voice.
“Madam, are you upset by the bad rumors these days?”
“It’s okay. I don’t really care.”
"You're doing well. That's just the words of people who like to put others down."
Her soft, cold hand caressed the back of my hand, which was resting on the table. I felt slightly uncomfortable with this gesture, so I offered an awkward smile. She was, in my opinion, the person I suspected the most. I'd never seen her flaunt her personal friendship with Erita, but that elegant smile felt somehow artificial. Perhaps it was because she'd trained since childhood to be the socialite of the nobles.
"Thank you."
"If you have any concerns or difficulties, please let me know at any time. My husband and Count Rotsilt are close friends, so I hope we can be like that. Like sisters."
“Yes, thank you very much.”
I know most siblings don't get along. Celine and I didn't get along either. I felt a brief moment of relief as I watched the pudding that came out for dessert.
As I was about to take a bite, the Marquis of Wales mentioned my name, drawing all attention to me, and I had no choice but to put my spoon down.
“How is it, ma’am?”
"Yes?"
“I mean, Count Rotsilt is going to the shooting competition.”
I glanced at Noah, who was sitting across from me and wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“I would like to go out, but my husband’s opinion is important.”
In response to my answer, Noah turned his glass of red wine around and smiled at me.
“Would you like to go out?”
“Do whatever you want.”
I was tempted by the prize money, but since it wasn't something I earned, I honestly didn't think it mattered whether I did it or not. The Marchioness then spoke in a tone of anticipation.
"Just as a knight who won a medieval tournament would present the trophy to his lady, so too would the winner of a shooting competition present the honor to his lady. That lady would become the ultimate heroine, the envy of all women."
The Marquis of Wales, who had won in the past, laughed heartily.
“Haha, I remember proposing to you with a trophy and flowers.”
"Have you forgotten you ever had a government? How shameless." I thought to myself, but the Marchioness still had her usual smile on.
I shuddered as I imagined the Marquis proposing in front of a crowd, his trophy in hand. Was he going to kneel and offer a rose in full view? As someone who doesn't like to be noticed, such attention felt like a public execution.
“Ahaha, actually, my husband’s thoughts are...”
“Then I guess I should do it.”
My words were cut off by Noah's answer. I opened my eyes wide and looked at him, but his face was very affectionate.
“I’ll make you the best lady that day. Sounds good, yes?”
"Don't do that!" I gave him an urgent look, but he pretended not to notice. Come to think of it, that man is a miserable person who enjoys teasing me and getting me into trouble. The Marquis, his face flushed red from the alcohol, made the suggestion.
“Are you thinking of joining our Prestige Gentlemen’s Club team?”
“Because Commander Chelsea recommended it first.”
The Marquis's eyebrows furrowed in disappointment at Noah's gentle refusal. He let out a sigh of disappointment.
"Is that so... I guess there's nothing I can do. Oh, and I hear the Princess's fiancée candidates are also participating in the shooting competition. Since some noble young men are currently knights, it looks like it's going to be quite competitive this year."
I recalled Erita's face turning pale on our wedding day when the Queen sternly ordered her to marry another man. It didn't seem likely she'd marry so easily.
The banquet concluded with drinks. The Marquis's pleasant laughter and the din of conversation, slightly drunk, had me feeling dizzy. Noah, already well aware of my limitations, was listening and said it was time to go. He then offered a welcome greeting.
“Shall we go back?”
He added, whispering lazily in my ear as I nodded in exaggerated agreement.
“Let’s go to bed quickly, honey.”
I hadn't even had that much to drink, but my cheeks felt hot. Even with the mentality of a well-worn adult, I couldn't resist such fatal words. I acted like a naive person just starting a relationship.
“Your face is red.”
My thoughts became tangled with the subtle question, and I blurted out an obvious lie.
“No, that’s not what I was thinking.”
“You are right.”
A pretty man with flushed cheeks and eyes smiled with a somewhat relaxed face.
I can't come to my senses from that sexiness and desire.
'So please help me from now on.'
She remembered the gentle voice of the Marchioness of Wales.
As soon as she thought it wasn't time to leave, a sharp pain struck her lower abdomen, and her back ached. It felt as if the child inside her was worried about her, so Ayla stroked her belly and spoke soothingly.
"Honey, Mommy has precious people I must protect. Even though it's hard, please bear with it a little longer."
Despite countless moments of joy and sorrow, Ayla believed in her choice. Heading to that unfamiliar land, where freedom and equal opportunity were open to all, without an aristocracy, was a new beginning for her, a hopeful situation.
She felt it wouldn't be too late to leave and wait for Mastiff, who would eventually come back, even after helping Diana. It was the right course of action and the best choice.
***
I was sitting at my dressing table, staring blankly at my face in the mirror, getting ready for a dinner party at the Marquis of Wales's mansion.
Large, gray-green eyes, indifferent to worldly affairs, lips that seem indifferent. An expression that at first glance seems cynical. As lifeless as my appearance, I don't want to go outside. Wasn't it customary to cancel plans when it rains?
It had been raining for three days straight, and I was feeling a bit sluggish. Even though winter, the rainy season here, was well past, it felt like the beginning of a damp, monsoon season. I heard the maid's voice behind me.
“Miss. How do you like these clothes?”
“Good.”
“Hey, did you see it correctly?”
The maid's voice was laced with a hint of regret. Having only caught a glimpse of her through the mirror, I finally turned my head to show I had seen her properly. She unfolded the dress, as if to show off. It was a decent two-piece, a black silk top and a wine-colored corset skirt.
“You have good taste. It would be pretty even if I didn’t look closely.”
The maid's cheek flushed shyly. I tried not to give the mansion's maids a bad impression, but I also tried to avoid personal conversations and avoid getting too close. There were incidents like someone stealing my wedding ring and finding out I was a spy, and I was even more cautious after hearing Noah's previous remarks about pro-Froggen forces.
“Don’t you wear makeup? I’m really good at it.”
The maid showed me a confident look, holding makeup brushes between her fingers that she'd gotten from some unknown source. I held back a chuckle and shook my head.
“I only apply it to my lips.”
“You’re pretty even without makeup, but with your milky skin and dreamy eye color, I can see how your image would change completely depending on the makeup, so I’m greedy.”
“I understand how you feel, but I don’t want to do it.”
"When you wore makeup on your wedding day, you looked like Queen Grace. Perhaps it's because your makeup style is so trendy. You're the one all the Medea women want to resemble, so everyone copies your clothes, makeup, and hairstyle."
On my wedding day, I had no choice but to wear full makeup. But it was a wedding, so I couldn't go bare-faced. Being told I resembled a Queen isn't a compliment, from my perspective. This maid talks too much. Rosie, the maid from Frogen, was also quite chatty, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
“Just go back now.”
At my command, she slumped her shoulders with a sullen face, bowed, and left the room.
I finished up my preparations and headed downstairs. Boaz, who was sitting at Dr. Rugen's feet in the living room armchair, turned to me and wagged his tail vigorously.
“It’s raining, where are you going, Solar?”
Dr. Rugen asked me. I paused to consider where he was in his memories, and then remembered that he had a younger sister in his family.
“I’ll go to dinner.”
“Are you going to Josephine’s house? You have to come back early.”
Behind the old man's smile toward me, there was a young man. He was drifting ever further into the past. It's a disease that can be slowed, but not stopped. Time seems to accelerate with each passing moment. Someone here said it was a disease that caused people to yearn for the past, so much so that they were tormented by the present.
“Boaz, playing with the doctor.”
Boaz, who had followed us to the front door as we were leaving, groaned. It seemed like he'd be fine in about two hours. I hugged Boaz's neck and patted his butt.
“You can take it with you. Just leave it in the garden.”
Noah spoke, wrapping his hand around the leash hanging on the coat rack next to the front door. Boaz, seeing the brown leather leash, stuck out his tongue, panted, and wagged his tail.
Noah, who had put a ring on Boaz's necklace and fastened the rope, opened the front door and walked ahead. I stood a few steps behind them, watching. I could hear Noah talking to Boaz, looking down at him.
"I'll assign you the task of destroying pine seedlings. You've been bragging about how much you bought and planted expensive pine trees."
“Mmm.”
***
As soon as we arrived at the Marquis of Wales's mansion, the elegantly dressed Marchioness greeted us with a smile. The Marquis' eldest son, Clad, looked surprised at Boaz, who was wagging his tail. He quickly smiled as Boaz lowered his head, as if asking for a pet.
“Father, Mother. I want to raise a puppy too.”
"If you get good grades on the test, I'll buy you a pedigree dog. Especially since you're not very good at math, right?"
At the Marquis's words, Clad made a sad face.
We were led by a servant into the spacious banquet hall. A long table covered in white tablecloths was filled with a sumptuous feast, and a chandelier from the high ceiling shone with golden light.
Smoked salmon and shrimp were served as appetizers, while main courses included venison, stuffed turkey, and butter-smoked goose. A salad of cabbage, carrots, and red cabbage was also served alongside various other dishes.
Perhaps because it was a gathering of politicians, bureaucrats, and businessmen, it felt opulent and extravagant. The world was still at war. The desolate lands I'd seen on my way here, the bombed-out ruins, brought a sense of unease. The upper class seemed to live in a completely different world. I, too, often forget the possibility of imminent war.
The Duke of Hessen, who had just arrived, greeted me politely. I doubted that man was one of Mastiff's. Then, looking at Daniel, who narrowed his red eyes at me and smiled innocently, I tried to dismiss it as a mere worry.
As I was nibbling on the meat that had been placed on my appetizer plate, the Marchioness sitting right next to me kindly asked me to pour some Cumberland sauce on the meat.
“Isn’t this kind of place boring? Me too.”
“Oh, no. The food is really good.”
“Is that so? We recently hired a chef from France.”
So it tasted good. I was a little worried that something bizarre would come out. She spoke in a comforting, affectionate voice.
“Madam, are you upset by the bad rumors these days?”
“It’s okay. I don’t really care.”
"You're doing well. That's just the words of people who like to put others down."
Her soft, cold hand caressed the back of my hand, which was resting on the table. I felt slightly uncomfortable with this gesture, so I offered an awkward smile. She was, in my opinion, the person I suspected the most. I'd never seen her flaunt her personal friendship with Erita, but that elegant smile felt somehow artificial. Perhaps it was because she'd trained since childhood to be the socialite of the nobles.
"Thank you."
"If you have any concerns or difficulties, please let me know at any time. My husband and Count Rotsilt are close friends, so I hope we can be like that. Like sisters."
“Yes, thank you very much.”
I know most siblings don't get along. Celine and I didn't get along either. I felt a brief moment of relief as I watched the pudding that came out for dessert.
As I was about to take a bite, the Marquis of Wales mentioned my name, drawing all attention to me, and I had no choice but to put my spoon down.
“How is it, ma’am?”
"Yes?"
“I mean, Count Rotsilt is going to the shooting competition.”
I glanced at Noah, who was sitting across from me and wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“I would like to go out, but my husband’s opinion is important.”
In response to my answer, Noah turned his glass of red wine around and smiled at me.
“Would you like to go out?”
“Do whatever you want.”
I was tempted by the prize money, but since it wasn't something I earned, I honestly didn't think it mattered whether I did it or not. The Marchioness then spoke in a tone of anticipation.
"Just as a knight who won a medieval tournament would present the trophy to his lady, so too would the winner of a shooting competition present the honor to his lady. That lady would become the ultimate heroine, the envy of all women."
The Marquis of Wales, who had won in the past, laughed heartily.
“Haha, I remember proposing to you with a trophy and flowers.”
"Have you forgotten you ever had a government? How shameless." I thought to myself, but the Marchioness still had her usual smile on.
I shuddered as I imagined the Marquis proposing in front of a crowd, his trophy in hand. Was he going to kneel and offer a rose in full view? As someone who doesn't like to be noticed, such attention felt like a public execution.
“Ahaha, actually, my husband’s thoughts are...”
“Then I guess I should do it.”
My words were cut off by Noah's answer. I opened my eyes wide and looked at him, but his face was very affectionate.
“I’ll make you the best lady that day. Sounds good, yes?”
"Don't do that!" I gave him an urgent look, but he pretended not to notice. Come to think of it, that man is a miserable person who enjoys teasing me and getting me into trouble. The Marquis, his face flushed red from the alcohol, made the suggestion.
“Are you thinking of joining our Prestige Gentlemen’s Club team?”
“Because Commander Chelsea recommended it first.”
The Marquis's eyebrows furrowed in disappointment at Noah's gentle refusal. He let out a sigh of disappointment.
"Is that so... I guess there's nothing I can do. Oh, and I hear the Princess's fiancée candidates are also participating in the shooting competition. Since some noble young men are currently knights, it looks like it's going to be quite competitive this year."
I recalled Erita's face turning pale on our wedding day when the Queen sternly ordered her to marry another man. It didn't seem likely she'd marry so easily.
The banquet concluded with drinks. The Marquis's pleasant laughter and the din of conversation, slightly drunk, had me feeling dizzy. Noah, already well aware of my limitations, was listening and said it was time to go. He then offered a welcome greeting.
“Shall we go back?”
He added, whispering lazily in my ear as I nodded in exaggerated agreement.
“Let’s go to bed quickly, honey.”
I hadn't even had that much to drink, but my cheeks felt hot. Even with the mentality of a well-worn adult, I couldn't resist such fatal words. I acted like a naive person just starting a relationship.
“Your face is red.”
My thoughts became tangled with the subtle question, and I blurted out an obvious lie.
“No, that’s not what I was thinking.”
“You are right.”
A pretty man with flushed cheeks and eyes smiled with a somewhat relaxed face.
I can't come to my senses from that sexiness and desire.
Comments
Post a Comment