(118) Wind in the chest (3)
Sweat was beading on her forehead.
With trembling hands, Ariana clutched the soft blanket tightly. A clean ceiling, familiar yet still unfamiliar to her blinking eyes, entered her vision.
She gasped for breath and recalled a dream that seemed so real.
The despair of a father who could do nothing for his daughter, who was sold off to marry at a young age, remained intact.
A chest that is burning crisp, a stomach that is churning as if it will turn over, the back of the neck that is burning with anger, eyes that are burning as if they will burst.
Even now, when she woke up from the dream, the feeling of it all being real, of it being something she had experienced, of her becoming Russell White, still overwhelmed Ariana.
The first time she dreamed she was Russell White, she thought it was just a terrible nightmare, a desperate wish. But the second time she had it, something felt strange.
Ariana couldn't possibly have known what it felt like for a father to marry his daughter off to an older man. Yet, the emotions Russell felt at that moment were all too vivid.
'What the heck is this...?'
What is this dream? What is this dream for?
Ariana's constant thoughts were of her mother, Rachel, Helena, Victoria, and Prince Harold. It was only natural for her to dream of being in their shoes. She'd returned to time, determined to bring down the hammer on them.
But it wasn't his father, Russell.
To Ariana, her father was nothing more than a dream. There were times when she wished he would come to her, but she abandoned that hope after getting married, and after meeting him at her first party, she completely shut herself off from him.
Even at the moment of her death, Russell White was a complete stranger.
The reason she came back to Russell was simply that she needed his status, not because she expected her father's love.
Of course, she now accepts him as her father, but when she first had the dream, she felt distant from Russell.
But why do I dream of being Russell White? Why do I dream of being my father, not the Third Prince or Victoria?
The dream was too vivid and unsettling to be dismissed as a coincidence.
Ariana climbed out of bed and stumbled to the window. She parted the thick curtains, revealing a sky brightening with a faint haze.
-“Marriage? Ariana is only 16 years old!”
An angry voice rang in his ears.
Suddenly, she remembered what happened back then.
.
.
“I have good news, Ariana.”
That day, Rachel and her mother seemed happy. Ariana's mood brightened as she heard her mother's gentle words, a rare occurrence.
“What’s wrong, Mother?”
Even though she called her “Mother,” Rachel didn’t get angry, as usual, saying, “I thought you were to call me Duchess, not Mother.”
“Your marriage partner has been decided.”
Ariana didn't know the word "marriage partner." Rachel clicked her tongue as she watched Ariana tilt her head.
"You idiot. Don't you even know what a "marriage partner" means? It's a good thing someone is willing to take a fool like you in."
“You’re taking me with you?”
“Yes, your marriage partner has been decided.”
Her heart sank.
“Marriage...?”
"You're sixteen now, old enough to legally marry. Count Alfreich, you know? Ingo Alfreich."
Ingo Alfreich, she knew him.
A man who had been frequently visiting the Bronte household recently, he was an ugly man with pale skin and thick lips. Helena called Viscount Alfreich "Toad" behind his back.
"Count Alfreich is a very generous man. Thankfully, he offered to take a useless person like you in."
Ariana couldn't believe her ears and just blinked.
She always knew she would marry someone someday, but she never dreamed it would be Viscount Alfreich. Whenever they passed in the hallway, Viscount Alfreich would glance at Ariana with a sly look.
Ariana was reluctant to meet him because his gaze was so disgusting and unpleasant.
But her mother told her to marry that man.
“Mother, I... don’t want to. I don’t want to get married...”
Crack-!
A sharp pain shot down her cheek. The touch was so strong it made her head spin.
"Someone has come to take you away, Ariana—you who only waste our food. Now you can finally be of help to our family, and you refuse? Even though Viscount Alfreich is of low status, he has plenty of money, and you can enjoy it all. And he even likes someone like you. How grateful are you?"
She wasn't grateful. She didn't want to receive love from a man like that.
But she couldn't say that.
Because if she does that, she'll get hit again. Because her mother will hate her. Because she'll look like a useless, stubborn kid.
Rachel didn't care as tears streamed down Ariana's cheeks and fell to the floor.
“I was wondering who would take you, someone who has no education and no personality, but I’m so grateful that someone has come forward to take you before you reach your age... Besides, the Alfreich family will be a great help to our family.”
“Will I be of any help? Will marrying him be of any help to the Bronte family?”
Rachel smiled brightly.
“That’s right, my daughter.”
It was so sweet to hear Rachel call her daughter.
Her mother called Helena and Victoria "my daughter," but she never called Ariana that.
My daughter.
If she could be called that, she didn't think marrying Viscount Alfreich would be a big deal. If her mother needed her, and she could be of help to her, she could easily marry a toad.
So Ariana swallowed her tears and forced a smile.
"Yes, Mother. I will do my best. I will be of help to the Bronte family."
As the date of her wedding to Viscount Alfreich drew near, Ariana was unable to sleep due to fear, but no one in the Bronte family understood her feelings.
In return for taking Ariana with him, Count Alfreich sent her an enormous gift, which Helena and Victoria shared. Ariana married Count Alfreich without even seeing a single one of the gifts.
.
.
'Everyone except me was delighted with my marriage to Viscount Alfreich.'
But the father in her dream didn't do that.
He was angry, desperate, and sad.
He raised his voice for Ariana, but he was frustrated because there was nothing he could do.
'Was that really the case?'
Ariana was curious.
'Was my father really that angry when I got married?'
At a time when no one cared about Ariana, she wondered if only the White family in the distant land of the East was indignant about Ariana's marriage.
She couldn't know now, and even if she did, it wouldn't make a difference, but she still wanted to know. She thought it might offer some comfort to the miserable and pitiful Ariana Bronte, to the Viscountess Ariana Alfreich.
Ariana had no appetite because she couldn't sleep.
She called the maid and asked her to bring her a simple breakfast, and was sitting up in bed when the bedroom door burst open, and Isabelle came in.
“Hey, Ariana!”
A clear, piercing voice dispelled the dark clouds that had been hanging over Ariana's mind. The beloved daughter of Count White, raised so brightly, was this bright.
It was a day when she felt like she couldn't smile at all, but she couldn't help but laugh when she saw Isabelle's grumpy expression.
“Why are you laughing!”
“I just like seeing you, sister.”
Isabelle's cheeks turned red.
“What’s so good about it? Just seeing my face is so good. Why are you leaving me behind and going to recuperate?”
“Yeah. I wish I had gone with you.”
If only she hadn't been so swayed by Cyrus. She wouldn't have been so helplessly captivated by that bewitching and beautiful face.
Isabelle came over, her lips pursed, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“How’s your body? Are you feeling better after taking some rest?”
“Yeah, it’s better. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“But why do you look so tired? Didn’t you sleep well because you changed beds?”
“I guess so.”
Isabelle suddenly stuck her face in.
“You’ve become really pretty?”
"Yes?"
"You were pretty before, but you've gotten even prettier. You used to look like a child, but now you look like a lady. I guess the recovery has helped."
"I know."
Isabelle stroked Ariana's arm.
“You’ve gained some weight. None of the dresses you used to wear will fit you.”
“That’s right. I made a few new ones.”
"Shall we go out together later? Let's get a dress and buy some shoes. And we'll go to a perfume shop. Mom told me to reserve the new perfume that's coming out soon."
“What new perfume is coming out this time?”
“Yeah, this is it.”
Isabelle took out a crumpled flyer from her skirt pocket.
The hand-painted flyer advertised the perfume 'Peonica', which is scheduled to be released this summer.
'Peonica. It's Count Gabion's perfume.'
Count Gabion sells two types of perfume made from the helon flower: 'Peonica', a luxurious perfume for the nobility, and 'Eribel', a perfume for wealthy commoners.
Commoners who wanted to emulate the nobles bought 'Eribel', which had a similar scent to 'Peonica', and for a while, this perfume business seemed to be a great success.
But there was something strange.
In Ariana's memory, "Peonica" became famous after it began selling perfume in earnest. Count Gabion achieved success through aggressive marketing, hiring leading actors from famous theater companies and madams from prestigious salons.
But now, the Peonica's sales hadn't even begun, and the flyer, while luxurious, was otherwise unremarkable. It was puzzling that even the Countess White of the East was showing interest.
“Is your aunt interested in perfume?”
"No, that's not it. After all, as a Countess of the White family, she can't help but be concerned about social circles. This perfume is so popular among noblewomen, she had no choice but to buy one, you know."
"A trend? It's not even on sale yet."
"It seems the Imperial Princess has shown great interest. The Imperial nobles have already reserved their purchases for this perfume. The East is relatively slow."
Only then did Ariana realize how things were going.
'The Third Prince moved the Princess.'
Third Prince Harold was good at hiding his ambitions to seize the throne and got along well with his other siblings.
'This confirms that the Third Prince invested in the perfume business.'
There was no way the Princess would have taken an interest in a perfume that hadn't even been created yet without any reason. The naive Princess likely believed the Third Prince's words and leaked the story about the perfume to the ladies and young ladies who came to visit her.
It was a very welcome thing for Ariana.
The more victims there were and the more valuable the victims were, the more compensation investors would have to pay.
The Third Prince was walking towards his own grave.
Sweat was beading on her forehead.
With trembling hands, Ariana clutched the soft blanket tightly. A clean ceiling, familiar yet still unfamiliar to her blinking eyes, entered her vision.
She gasped for breath and recalled a dream that seemed so real.
The despair of a father who could do nothing for his daughter, who was sold off to marry at a young age, remained intact.
A chest that is burning crisp, a stomach that is churning as if it will turn over, the back of the neck that is burning with anger, eyes that are burning as if they will burst.
Even now, when she woke up from the dream, the feeling of it all being real, of it being something she had experienced, of her becoming Russell White, still overwhelmed Ariana.
The first time she dreamed she was Russell White, she thought it was just a terrible nightmare, a desperate wish. But the second time she had it, something felt strange.
Ariana couldn't possibly have known what it felt like for a father to marry his daughter off to an older man. Yet, the emotions Russell felt at that moment were all too vivid.
'What the heck is this...?'
What is this dream? What is this dream for?
Ariana's constant thoughts were of her mother, Rachel, Helena, Victoria, and Prince Harold. It was only natural for her to dream of being in their shoes. She'd returned to time, determined to bring down the hammer on them.
But it wasn't his father, Russell.
To Ariana, her father was nothing more than a dream. There were times when she wished he would come to her, but she abandoned that hope after getting married, and after meeting him at her first party, she completely shut herself off from him.
Even at the moment of her death, Russell White was a complete stranger.
The reason she came back to Russell was simply that she needed his status, not because she expected her father's love.
Of course, she now accepts him as her father, but when she first had the dream, she felt distant from Russell.
But why do I dream of being Russell White? Why do I dream of being my father, not the Third Prince or Victoria?
The dream was too vivid and unsettling to be dismissed as a coincidence.
Ariana climbed out of bed and stumbled to the window. She parted the thick curtains, revealing a sky brightening with a faint haze.
-“Marriage? Ariana is only 16 years old!”
An angry voice rang in his ears.
Suddenly, she remembered what happened back then.
.
.
“I have good news, Ariana.”
That day, Rachel and her mother seemed happy. Ariana's mood brightened as she heard her mother's gentle words, a rare occurrence.
“What’s wrong, Mother?”
Even though she called her “Mother,” Rachel didn’t get angry, as usual, saying, “I thought you were to call me Duchess, not Mother.”
“Your marriage partner has been decided.”
Ariana didn't know the word "marriage partner." Rachel clicked her tongue as she watched Ariana tilt her head.
"You idiot. Don't you even know what a "marriage partner" means? It's a good thing someone is willing to take a fool like you in."
“You’re taking me with you?”
“Yes, your marriage partner has been decided.”
Her heart sank.
“Marriage...?”
"You're sixteen now, old enough to legally marry. Count Alfreich, you know? Ingo Alfreich."
Ingo Alfreich, she knew him.
A man who had been frequently visiting the Bronte household recently, he was an ugly man with pale skin and thick lips. Helena called Viscount Alfreich "Toad" behind his back.
"Count Alfreich is a very generous man. Thankfully, he offered to take a useless person like you in."
Ariana couldn't believe her ears and just blinked.
She always knew she would marry someone someday, but she never dreamed it would be Viscount Alfreich. Whenever they passed in the hallway, Viscount Alfreich would glance at Ariana with a sly look.
Ariana was reluctant to meet him because his gaze was so disgusting and unpleasant.
But her mother told her to marry that man.
“Mother, I... don’t want to. I don’t want to get married...”
Crack-!
A sharp pain shot down her cheek. The touch was so strong it made her head spin.
"Someone has come to take you away, Ariana—you who only waste our food. Now you can finally be of help to our family, and you refuse? Even though Viscount Alfreich is of low status, he has plenty of money, and you can enjoy it all. And he even likes someone like you. How grateful are you?"
She wasn't grateful. She didn't want to receive love from a man like that.
But she couldn't say that.
Because if she does that, she'll get hit again. Because her mother will hate her. Because she'll look like a useless, stubborn kid.
Rachel didn't care as tears streamed down Ariana's cheeks and fell to the floor.
“I was wondering who would take you, someone who has no education and no personality, but I’m so grateful that someone has come forward to take you before you reach your age... Besides, the Alfreich family will be a great help to our family.”
“Will I be of any help? Will marrying him be of any help to the Bronte family?”
Rachel smiled brightly.
“That’s right, my daughter.”
It was so sweet to hear Rachel call her daughter.
Her mother called Helena and Victoria "my daughter," but she never called Ariana that.
My daughter.
If she could be called that, she didn't think marrying Viscount Alfreich would be a big deal. If her mother needed her, and she could be of help to her, she could easily marry a toad.
So Ariana swallowed her tears and forced a smile.
"Yes, Mother. I will do my best. I will be of help to the Bronte family."
As the date of her wedding to Viscount Alfreich drew near, Ariana was unable to sleep due to fear, but no one in the Bronte family understood her feelings.
In return for taking Ariana with him, Count Alfreich sent her an enormous gift, which Helena and Victoria shared. Ariana married Count Alfreich without even seeing a single one of the gifts.
.
.
'Everyone except me was delighted with my marriage to Viscount Alfreich.'
But the father in her dream didn't do that.
He was angry, desperate, and sad.
He raised his voice for Ariana, but he was frustrated because there was nothing he could do.
'Was that really the case?'
Ariana was curious.
'Was my father really that angry when I got married?'
At a time when no one cared about Ariana, she wondered if only the White family in the distant land of the East was indignant about Ariana's marriage.
She couldn't know now, and even if she did, it wouldn't make a difference, but she still wanted to know. She thought it might offer some comfort to the miserable and pitiful Ariana Bronte, to the Viscountess Ariana Alfreich.
***
Ariana had no appetite because she couldn't sleep.
She called the maid and asked her to bring her a simple breakfast, and was sitting up in bed when the bedroom door burst open, and Isabelle came in.
“Hey, Ariana!”
A clear, piercing voice dispelled the dark clouds that had been hanging over Ariana's mind. The beloved daughter of Count White, raised so brightly, was this bright.
It was a day when she felt like she couldn't smile at all, but she couldn't help but laugh when she saw Isabelle's grumpy expression.
“Why are you laughing!”
“I just like seeing you, sister.”
Isabelle's cheeks turned red.
“What’s so good about it? Just seeing my face is so good. Why are you leaving me behind and going to recuperate?”
“Yeah. I wish I had gone with you.”
If only she hadn't been so swayed by Cyrus. She wouldn't have been so helplessly captivated by that bewitching and beautiful face.
Isabelle came over, her lips pursed, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“How’s your body? Are you feeling better after taking some rest?”
“Yeah, it’s better. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“But why do you look so tired? Didn’t you sleep well because you changed beds?”
“I guess so.”
Isabelle suddenly stuck her face in.
“You’ve become really pretty?”
"Yes?"
"You were pretty before, but you've gotten even prettier. You used to look like a child, but now you look like a lady. I guess the recovery has helped."
"I know."
Isabelle stroked Ariana's arm.
“You’ve gained some weight. None of the dresses you used to wear will fit you.”
“That’s right. I made a few new ones.”
"Shall we go out together later? Let's get a dress and buy some shoes. And we'll go to a perfume shop. Mom told me to reserve the new perfume that's coming out soon."
“What new perfume is coming out this time?”
“Yeah, this is it.”
Isabelle took out a crumpled flyer from her skirt pocket.
The hand-painted flyer advertised the perfume 'Peonica', which is scheduled to be released this summer.
'Peonica. It's Count Gabion's perfume.'
Count Gabion sells two types of perfume made from the helon flower: 'Peonica', a luxurious perfume for the nobility, and 'Eribel', a perfume for wealthy commoners.
Commoners who wanted to emulate the nobles bought 'Eribel', which had a similar scent to 'Peonica', and for a while, this perfume business seemed to be a great success.
But there was something strange.
In Ariana's memory, "Peonica" became famous after it began selling perfume in earnest. Count Gabion achieved success through aggressive marketing, hiring leading actors from famous theater companies and madams from prestigious salons.
But now, the Peonica's sales hadn't even begun, and the flyer, while luxurious, was otherwise unremarkable. It was puzzling that even the Countess White of the East was showing interest.
“Is your aunt interested in perfume?”
"No, that's not it. After all, as a Countess of the White family, she can't help but be concerned about social circles. This perfume is so popular among noblewomen, she had no choice but to buy one, you know."
"A trend? It's not even on sale yet."
"It seems the Imperial Princess has shown great interest. The Imperial nobles have already reserved their purchases for this perfume. The East is relatively slow."
Only then did Ariana realize how things were going.
'The Third Prince moved the Princess.'
Third Prince Harold was good at hiding his ambitions to seize the throne and got along well with his other siblings.
'This confirms that the Third Prince invested in the perfume business.'
There was no way the Princess would have taken an interest in a perfume that hadn't even been created yet without any reason. The naive Princess likely believed the Third Prince's words and leaked the story about the perfume to the ladies and young ladies who came to visit her.
It was a very welcome thing for Ariana.
The more victims there were and the more valuable the victims were, the more compensation investors would have to pay.
The Third Prince was walking towards his own grave.
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