Chapter 69

 9 – Marianne’s Truth – 8

 

Seeing the boy with his smoky, golden-brown hair, I felt a sense of déjà-vu.

 

“He looks just like you, father.”

 

A woman, probably around my mother's age, looked flustered and hastily waved both hands in front of her face. She seemed to be trying to deny it.

 

“...What can I say, Father? Is it alright to say I'm disappointed, or that I'm furious?”

My father had strictly instructed me to make time for him on my days off, so I thought he had something important to tell me, but this is what I get.

 

In the first place, the household servants had been acting strangely since morning. They were restless and uneasy.

The steward, in particular, was like that. He stayed by my father's side during breakfast, but as soon as the serving began, he left and didn't show his face again afterward.

I thought everyone was busy with matters related to my father's work, so I strolled around the garden to wait, but when the appointed time arrived, no one came to call me.

When I asked the maid, she replied that father had instructed me to wait in my room. I kept myself busy by doing some embroidery while checking the clock. I had decided not to read a book today, as I wanted to rest my mind.

By the time the attendant finally came to fetch me, it was half an hour past the agreed-upon time.

“I wonder if my father is busy?”

“It seems so.”

I had fully expected to be led to my father's study or office, but the attendant led me into the reception room.

“Are we awaiting a guest?”

The room was tidy, but no one was there yet.

As I was tidying myself up, assuming they must be important guests, two figures peeked out from behind a screen at the back of the room. It was a mother and son, clearly invited from the common people.

When our eyes met, I swiftly tensed my body and stepped forward.

The woman's clothes, which seemed hastily prepared, suggested their arrival at the mansion was unexpected. They didn't fit properly; the waist was a little loose, and the hem was too short. The boy's clothes were new, but his shoes were dirty. There was something oddly mismatched about them.

Just as I was about to step forward to offer my greetings, father entered the room.

 

“Now, now, calm down, Marianne. I'll introduce you properly, so please sit down first. You two, it's alright, so don't be scared.”

As my father, maintaining his composed demeanor, sat down on the sofa, the woman followed, bowing her head and timidly sitting beside him. Then the boy sat down.

“You look just like father and son,” I muttered, half sarcastically, half honestly, as I sat down opposite them.

The woman was undoubtedly a complete stranger, so of course she didn't resemble my father. But what about the boy? Being the same sex, he resembled my father far more than I did. It was hard to believe they weren't related by blood.

“Marianne,”

I turned my head to the low, critical voice, and father pointedly said, “That's not the behavior of a lady.”

However, it was difficult to act pleasantly in this situation. Putting my true feelings aside, I thought I should apologize, and just as I was about to open my mouth, a voice so small it was almost a whisper came from directly in front of me: “...I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize,” the master of the house said, turning a sour face towards the woman beside him. From the tone of voice, it seemed they weren't strangers. Yet, they didn't seem particularly close either.

“Father is right. The problem must be with me.”

While we were having this bland conversation, the maid, with a nonchalant expression, placed a plate of sweets and a teacup on the table. Seeing her glance, as if she was observing the guests' movements, I could tell that this hospitality hadn't been prepared in advance.

 

What would my mother have said if she were here?

 

“Actually, there's something I've kept from you all this time.”

After sending all the servants out of the room, he suddenly became serious and began.

The air was so tense I could barely breathe. It had been a long time since I'd felt this kind of atmosphere. Since my mother's death, my father had been incredibly tolerant, almost to the point of being frightening.

I wish my mother were here. I'm sure she would have been on my side.

 

“---I'm not the official heir to this house.”

 

I was so taken aback by what he said that I forgot to even nod and just stared at the head of my household.

“Marianne?”

“...I was so surprised I couldn't speak. ...What did you just say?”

“I'm not the official heir to this house.”

“...Eh, oh...I thought so. That's what you said, right? I didn't mishear you.”

I picked up the teacup with trembling fingers. The tea, with berries at the bottom, calmed my slightly turbulent heart.

My father, who had probably been waiting for me to calm down, began to speak slowly after a moment.

“I have an older brother, two years older than me.”

“...That's the first I've heard of it.”

“Yes, I never told you.”

“There is no such person in the portraits in the mansion. I have never met him either.”

“That's right. You have never met him. However, as for the portrait...it's not that there isn't one.”

“There is one?”

“Yes, there is. It's just hidden.”

“...Is that so?”

My throat tightened, and I was unable to speak.

“And besides...”

I answered "Yes," wondering what he was going to say, when he suddenly announced, “There's a possibility that the portrait you think is of me isn't actually me.”

“Huh?” I let a foolish exclamation escape my mouth.

 

It was such a strange story. Disturbed, I glanced beside my father. The woman with simple features tilted her head. Her earnest attempt to smile was almost pitiable. Her amber hair fell softly onto her shoulders, and for some reason, the image of my mother appeared there. The woman with the same hair color as mine.

 

Seeing my lack of concentration, he prefaced his story by saying, “It's not that difficult,” before continuing what could be called the misfortune that had befallen this house.

“I was fifteen when my brother disappeared. At first, we suspected it was a kidnapping. But no one came forward to ask for a ransom, no matter how long we waited.”

“That's terrible.”

“It was. ...Well, we later found out that he had run away of his own free will.”

“...To think such a thing happened?”

“This is a huge blunder and a scandal for our family. It's unprecedented for an heir to run away when we're entrusted with the territory by His Majesty the King.”

“Yes.”

“After much thought, my parents, panicked by the situation, came to the conclusion that they should put a stand-in in place.”

“Huh...?”

I knew my reply was rather clumsy. But right now, I didn't have the luxury of trying to save face.

 

“Perhaps he wasn't thinking straight when faced with the possibility of losing his heir. My father came to talk to me. He said, “The one who had disappeared is you.”

“...I don't understand.”

“Of course not," the man nodded deeply, and urged my (prospective?) younger brother, who was huddled at the edge of the sofa, “There are cookies too. You like them, don't you? Have some.” “Y-yes,” the boy replied and reached for the biscuit on the table. Father watched him protectively, then rebuked me, “Don't stare at him like that, you’ll scare him,” so I looked back to the center of the sofa.

“I was just looking because he was so cute,” I blurted out, and I heard a gasp, but I didn't know who did it.

 

“And then, Father? Please continue.”

“Ah, yes. Right... In other words, I took my brother's place.”

“...What do you mean, 'in other words'? I don't understand at all. So, if you're impersonating your brother, then what about you, Father? Does that mean you yourself have gone missing?”

“Well, that's about it. For the time being, we made up a story that I was secluded in a separate residence, supposedly recuperating from an illness. ---I think my father originally intended to find my brother eventually. At first, he suspected it was a kidnapping, and he apparently searched frantically. After about a year, my father finally gave up.”

If he had a son whose whereabouts were unknown, could he really give up so easily?

Perhaps my doubts were visible on my face, because my father replied, “Yes.”

 

“My brother’s diary was found. It chronicled the struggles of a child born as the heir to a count's family. And it also mentioned his plan to run away with the help of an acquaintance.”

 

The last page apparently contained farewell words to his parents (that is, my grandparents).

 

“In the end, I remained under my brother's identity. The real me died at the place where I was recuperating.”

“---,”

Is that even permissible?

 

No, it's not permissible. That would be a betrayal of His Majesty the King. But if the legitimate heir is lost, a succession dispute is inevitable. My grandfather had two younger brothers, and frankly, he didn't get along well with them. As far as I know, they had repeatedly asked for money, and they had argued over the inheritance. They've been excommunicated now, though.

“But surely, if people switched places, those around them would notice, right?”

A two-year age difference in their teens is significant. If their faces were different, their physiques would have been different too.

“Well, you see, my brother and I look so alike, like twins. For some reason, our height and weight were about the same. That must have been a burden for my brother.”

If he had the same physique as his younger brother, who was two years younger, he must have been considerably more slender and smaller than the other young men his age. It wouldn't be surprising if he felt inferior.

 

“May I say something, Father?”

“What is it?”

“Father and Uncle... I don't know if I should call him that, but putting that aside, even if switching places was unavoidable considering your circumstances, isn't it still a bit too much?”

The fact that my father's existence was erased because of it seems incredibly cruel.

To be alive, yet dead...?

 

“But you know, I... I was fine with it. In fact, I was more pleased to be able to take my brother's place.”

“What do you mean?”

Because my brother's fiancée was your mother..

My father smiled, a smile that seemed to show embarrassment, or perhaps a wry smile, or maybe he was just shy.

 

The fiancée of his brother who he had secretly longed for all this time became his partner.

“I had never considered my own birth to be unfortunate, but I had envied my brother's circumstances. Compared to me, who still didn't have a fiancée, my brother had someone chosen for him from birth.”

“They got along well, so I had met her many times. She was strikingly beautiful and proud. She was intelligent, and while not kind to everyone, she was incredibly sweet to those she trusted. At the time, her extraordinary beauty was already the talk of society, but that wasn't what attracted me to her. What drew me in was her inner self.”

 

He spoke of her in a singing voice, as if he were flaunting his devotion.

 

“Um, so, what exactly am I being told?”

When I couldn't help but interrupt, my father smiled.

“I'm saying that I chose this myself.”

“...I see,”

“I desperately wanted your mother. I wanted her so badly that I could practically reach out for her. So even if it meant my existence would disappear from this world, it didn't matter to me. Compared to her becoming mine, my own disappearance was insignificant."

 

This was an unbelievable story.

I no longer understood what he's talking about. I might just be listening to the story of how my parents met. I should be hearing a story about someone disappearing from this world, yet my father is processing it as if it were just small talk, as if it were nothing significant.

Since this isn't getting us anywhere,

 

“So? How does that story connect to these two people?”

 

I asked directly. Silence fell immediately.

“It's hard to imagine father, who cherishes mother so much, doing something disloyal, but that boy's face proves it.”

The mother and son exchanged awkward glances.

“Um," the boy began, speaking first. “It seems you've misunderstood, so let me correct you.”

I was impressed that he spoke so clearly, given his timid demeanor, when the woman sitting beside him subtly but firmly flicked his knee with her fingertip and said, “...Stop it!”

Indeed.

His words and actions might be inappropriate in this situation.

Putting me aside, my father holds the title of Earl, so disrespectful behavior from a commoner is punishable.

However.

If he were my father's son, that wouldn't be the case.

 

“Yes, you be quiet.”

I looked at my father's face as he said this sharply. He was usually incredibly lenient with his family, so this was a very cold response.

“Father?”

When I called out to him, his face suddenly softened into a gentle smile. It was a frighteningly two-faced nature.

“Well, there's no point in keeping you waiting any longer. I'll tell you the truth.”

 

This child is my brother's child.

 

“And he is the legitimate heir to this house. The reason this child and I look alike is because my brother and I look alike.”

 

A breeze suddenly sweeps across my back. It feels like I've been thrown onto the cobblestones in the bitter cold of midwinter.

Mother.

Unconsciously, I call out the name of my beloved mother and search for her.

I didn't often come to this room to entertain guests, but I know where my mother used to sit. She would sit on the sofa, politely entertaining her guests and chatting with them.

She laughed like tinkling bells. Everyone was captivated.

Now, a woman I didn’t know sits there.

 

“I understand now.”

 

My mother is nowhere to be found anymore. Even when I close my eyes, only darkness spreads. She always told me she was by my side, but I know she's not really here anymore. That's why I have to face this alone now.

 

“Why is my fiancé Eva, from a Baron’s family?”

 

I don't dislike Evan. I thought we got along well, but he's a little lacking as a partner for the daughter of the Earl's first-ranking family. This isn't so much my own feeling, but rather something I'd heard repeatedly from others, so I vaguely felt there might be some truth to it.

 

My dissatisfaction grew, fueled by their comments.

 

The more my parents cherished me, the more I wondered “why?”

If they truly cared for their daughter, they would choose someone more suitable for the Earl's family. That would be better for him too, wouldn't it? Dealing with a higher-ranking family is difficult, after all.

And yet...

My father said there was no one else more fitting than Evan.

 

“Yes, I thought you, being so intelligent, would understand that soon enough.”

Chapter 68