If this is
the real end – 5
Let’s say there was a painting and a
jewel. Then, the painting would be hung out in the most conspicuous place in
the mansion, and the jewel would be hidden in the drawer of a dresser.
These two items whose fate could be
described as quite contrasted, were given to us sisters by our father. In terms
of beauty, the object I received didn’t lose.
But there was a heavenly difference between
their values.
A painting drawn by an amateur, and a
rare jewel that didn’t have another match in this world. While its rarity meant
a price couldn’t be put on it, the emotions invested into it were certainly not
equal.
From a third party’s perspective, I,
who received the jewel, might have seemed more fortunate.
But that wasn’t the case.
That’s why I hid the square box which
contained that gem in the top drawer of my dresser.
It wasn’t an object I had desired
myself. I didn’t want it. Such a thing.
********************
Staring fixedly at the necklace
adorning my chest, Silvia said, “Nice for you, big sister.”
To her who pouted her lips with a
truly envious expression, I returned a wry smile. I simply didn’t know what to
say.
“Are you dissatisfied with my
painting?” gently said father, who was standing beside Silvia, listening to her
voice while combing her thin hair with his fingers. Enjoying the sensation of
gliding his fingers in that smooth hair, he repeated that gesture many times.
Not displaying a special reaction to
that father, Silvia accepted his gesture as natural. A daughter approaching
marriageable age might tend to dislike having excessive skinship with her
father, but for my little sister, it wasn’t the case.
I guess they had a harmonious
relationship as family members. Outsiders would surely perceive it as such. And
in reality too, that was the case.
… … But only I was not included
there.
I had never been glued like this to
father. As far as I remembered, him stroking my hair never happened even once.
From long ago, father and I had been
alienated.
“Even though I took great pains to
paint it for your sake ah…”
Facing father, who said that with a
depressed attitude, Silvia became flustered and shook her head. “Ah, no, that’s
not it…! I’m sorry father…”
Their appearances, as only the upper
half of her body was lifted from the bed while she clung to father, didn’t look
like they were lovers, but still gave the strange feeling that you wouldn’t be
surprised if told they were a couple.
Despite the fact he was supposed to
approach the latter half of his forties, the virile looks of my forever
youthful father were famous to the point of being at the center of rumors even
in the noble society full of good-looking individuals.
Seeing the flustered state Silvia
was in, father looked over her with affection and shrugged his shoulders with
exaggeration. “Hehe, well, it can’t be help that you said that. Because it’s
true that the stone I gave to Ilya was expensive.”
His line of sight drifted in my
direction when he said my name, but our eyes didn’t meet. Since Silvia had
mentioned me, he reluctantly turned his face towards me but it didn’t have any
meaning.
The profile of father who retracted
his gaze back to my little sister eloquently showed how tremendously he loved
Silvia. I, who was watching this from a little distance away, was forced to
take on the role of a spectator, like I was looking at the stage from the
sidelines.
I wasn’t a character in this story.
I wasn’t a supporting character, neither an onlooker. Just a reader. I looked
at the two of them cuddling together with this feeling.
“… But, big sister, your necklace is
really beautiful. It’s the same color as your eyes.”
Even if we were only a third-rank
earl family, the estate still boasted of a certain broadness, so my little
sister’s room was certainly not narrow at all. Because I was standing quite
some distance away from the bed, we couldn’t communicate with each other unless
we raised our voices.
However, I had already received the
education of a lady. It was impossible for me to do such an improper thing.
Especially in front of father.
But for some reason, the charming
and lively voice of my little sister didn’t sound like it was loud. I wonder if
the soft wind coming from the slightly opened window in order to refresh the
air was carrying her voice. Carrying it from the other side of that canopy,
which I could never approach.
I could see the appearance of my
spoiled little sister as her upper body was leaning on father, who was sitting
on the bed.
As Silvia kept repeating “How nice,”
father kindly admonished her, “It’s something I gave to Ilya as a commemoration
for her debut in high society you know.”
We weren’t at a ball right now, and
although it was a bit laughable to wear such a magnificent pendant pared with
plain casual clothes, but because Silvia had said she wanted to see it, I had
to grant her wish.
When I opened the box, she said that
just looking at it was not good, and I couldn’t ignore the sulking expression
of my cute little sister as she protested, “Big sister, if you aren’t wearing
it, it’s meaningless.”
The day I made my debut in upper
society, she was bedridden and her wish to see the necklace couldn’t be fulfilled.
That was probably why she said that.
“The debut in high society? Then
it’ll be my turn this year!” Father looked over Silvia, whose checks were dyed
in happiness, with a gaze mixed with both affection and pity.
Silvia didn’t seem to have noticed,
but whether or not she would make her debut was uncertain. As she spent most of
her days sleeping, she didn’t have the time to receive the education of a lady,
and above all, her studies couldn’t catch up.
It would be extremely dreadful for a
pure and ignorant child to enter a world where everyone competes to surpass
others.
Although she was still a teenager,
because she carried the name of our earl house, carelessness will hardly be
tolerated when our home hosts a party.
Besides, that child was already
overly excited just thinking about going to a ball. On the actual day, there
was a high possibility she would come up with a fever. The memory of how she
was allowed to enter the academy, but on the appointed day she had to stay in
bed, was still fresh.
Seeing father’s reaction, I felt
that my thinking was right on point. However, it would be foolish to expressly
tell everything to her and make my little sister sad.
Because I understood how much father
doted on Silvia and loved her.
Certainly, the jewel that decorated
my neck was gorgeous and shiny, but it was not fitting for the plain me. A lot
of parents would buy those kinds of things for their beloved daughters as they
would make their debut.
Above all if you were an aristocrat
who valued his pride, it would be natural to prepare the top-quality products
to not embarrass your daughter. Of course, it was also the case for this house.
But I knew it wasn’t offered out of
love. The elaborate golden craftsmanship showed it was a high quality good, and
the pea-green jewel arranged in the middle of the pendant highlighted how
befitting and worthy of a noble this necklace was.
If its owner hadn’t been me, this
item would have been plenty enough to adorn a noblewoman.
I understood why Silvia was envious
of it. Rarely allowed to leave her room, my little sister admired the princesses
in fairy tales. It was inevitable that she would harbor respect, awe and
longing towards noble daughters.
That was why she wanted objects a
girl from a noble family would wear. However, ultimately, I thought it was only
because she didn’t know about the circumstances surrounding those gifts.
“Let’s order one jewel the same color as these eyes.”
One day, suddenly, after having been
called to father’s study, I was told this before even hearing what it was
about. Neither did he explain why he had called me when we hadn’t faced each
other for a while.
He just said those words to the
merchant who had been here before I arrived. The merchant who received the
order respectfully agreed and, like he was performing a magic trick, he took a
paper from his breast pocket and quickly drew the picture of a necklace.
Then, with an expression akin to
licking his lips, he asked, “would this be satisfactory?”
For a second, father, who had surely
noticed his reaction, made a displeased expression but that was all. It may be
the usual exchange for them.
The merchant explained how much
value the goods had with great loquacity, lifting the corner of his lips as he
said how this necklace was more than fitting for a young girl.
Father never showed any interest and
merely nodded once, leaving the room after saying to hand over the bill to the
steward.
He never looked once in my
direction, going away without granting me the permission to withdraw.
The merchant looked at the
left-behind-me with a troubled face. He asked me if I had any requirement or
wish for the necklace with a kind of pitying expression.
I understood he was feeling sympathy
for me. I was a pathetic girl whose father wouldn’t even look at her, only giving
her jewels.
He was surely a merchant who was
dealing with several famous houses. I didn’t know what he thought, but maybe
this scene was one he had never seen in other families. He probably had never
come across a father who bought jewels only out of compulsory obligation.
It was only done so that I wouldn’t
disgrace our third-ranked earl house when I make my debut. So that we wouldn’t
look like a family who couldn’t afford to buy some precious stones and be
looked down on by others.
“But, father’s painting is even
lovelier than the necklace!”
Silvia’s voice flew to my ear as I casted
down my eyes and the pendant came into my line of sight whether I wanted or
not.
More than her words, it’s her
innocent laugh that made my mood sink. Put down beside the bed, the portrait of
Silvia painted by father was truly well-made. Many colors had been placed on
the big canvas.
It expressed the ephemeral beauty of
Silvia well. At the same time, it made you feel an overflowing affection. It
had the charm to attract the heart of anyone seeing it.
That painting let you understand it
had been drawn very carefully over time.
The one who had painted it was none
other than father. The same year he gave me the necklace, he also offered that
painting.
“Hey, big sister. You think so too,
right?” When I was abruptly brought back to the discussion and tilted my head
in wonder, Silvia made a pouting expression.
Please, listen properly to the conversation, she protested as she pretended to
sulk. “Also, why did you come here today?”
I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed
being asked this question after all this time.
Contact with Silvia, who was in bad
physical condition, should be kept to the minimum. That was the promise I made
to mother a long, long time ago.
Therefore, taking a distance from
Silvia who was still in poor health until a few days ago and had yet to return
to a normal state was natural for me.
However, Silvia said with a saddened
expression, “Even if you don’t stand that far away, you won’t catch my disease
you know.”
It seemed she didn’t know about
mother’s orders.
Then, wanting to comfort her, father
didn’t hide the blame carried in his eyes when he turned them towards me.
Even though he should have known
everything, he didn’t seem to intent of covering up for me. Just saying, “your
mother has ordered her not to do that,” would have been enough, yet he didn’t
say it.
As Silvia never blamed mother, it
would be very unlikely for her to protest, but on the one in a million chance
she would, I suppose he decided to hide the fact his wife had prohibited me
from getting closer.
I heard the distant voice of father
as he whispered softly, “what a cruel older sister.”
I thought it was a very harsh
remark, but I understood that no matter what I did, it would be useless. That
was because this house was revolving around Silvia.
Because father, the head of the
family, did so, and his spouse, mother, was the same, the servants have also
learnt to act like that.
Because Silvia’s health was poor,
because Silvia’s physical condition was weak, because Silvia was pitiable,
because Silvia was lonely, because Silvia was, Silvia was… …
I wonder, until when was it again
that I was saddened by this?
The sole exception was only me. Only
I could give priority to myself.
While each and everyone, including
the servants, were busy worrying about Silvia, I was sitting at my desk,
holding onto a pen.
Only I, the future marquise, was
allowed to do that. Even my parents never took this future for granted, like it
was the natural course of events. At dinner, mother would smile and tell me, “Since you’ll be fine even if we leave you by
yourself, I can rest assured,” while father ignored me, keeping quiet.
When I was young, I thought this was
proof that I was being trusted. But it was certainly not.
When was it that I understood I was
merely being neglected? It wasn’t that I was being praised for managing well
even if I was alone, nor was I being told that I would be fine even if I were
to only be by myself.
Since even if you are left alone, it’s fine, I don’t have to care, was what was asserted as she
averted her eyes from me.
It’s not like I was coerced into it.
It’s not like I was told to work hard by myself.
However, leaving this unsaid was an
unfair manner of speaking.
So, I returned a lady-like smile. A
perfect armor for the sake of not showing any emotion.
I thought it was the best reaction
to take to face those nobles.
Then, I gripped my pen once again
and headed for my desk.
I knew that only this could support
me. Only knowledge, wisdom and education would shape me.
That’s why I had to work much harder.
No matter how many times I repeat my life, only this was always the same.
***********************
Since it was decided I would be the
fiancée of the marquis’ heir and I was introduced to Soleil, most of my time
was spent studying for that sake.
Originally, my qualifications
weren’t good enough. After all, my memory was average and I wasn’t very
sociable.
As much as possible, I devoted
myself to studying. Secluding myself in the archives of the mansion, from
morning to evening, I held my pen and wrote.
Since the marquis house would have
to interact with foreign countries, I thought it would be better to remember as
many foreign languages as possible, and it was also necessary to know about world
history accordingly.
Because I was hoping that such
trivial details could become advantageous in diplomacy.
Sometimes I studied with a teacher,
sometimes by myself.
I just single-mindedly poured all my
efforts into not becoming a fiancée that would embarrass Soleil.
Several books were piled up on the
desk. I thought they would become my strength.
In that silent room, only the sound
of the pen gliding across paper echoed. The black tea prepared for a break had already
cooled down, but the maids never came here.
From time to time, Al would check on
my condition but he didn’t speak and just left. He was probably worried about
breaking my concentration.
Because I had sat down on the same
chair for who knows how many hours, my lower back hurt.
At the time I stretched out and
heaved a breath, the silence was cut off by a faint laugher.
There was only me in the archive, so
naturally, it didn’t come from inside this room. Lured by the high-pitched
voice peculiar to a young girl that resounded once again, I turned my eyes
toward the window.
The sunlight shining on the red
carpet of the archives was dazzling. My eyes spontaneously scrutinized the
scene behind them. I could see the figures of Silvia and her maids.
They were walking on the sunny lawn
as if bouncing on it. The maids were hurrying after the silhouette laughing in
a happy voice, seemingly about to start running at any moment.
It was a nonchalant scene of a
nonchalant ordinary day. A scene neither special nor unusual.
The only thing different was the people
walking behind them, the master of our house, father. And my mother who was
walking further behind.
I tilted my head, wondering if today
was a special day, and from above I overlooked the figures of my parents and
little sister walking in our wide garden, basking in the sunshine.
From the archives located on the
second floor, I could really see them well. I genuinely thought it looked fun,
and I reflected on myself, who was lurking in the shadows to avoid the
sunlight.
My dark colored dress seemed kind of
ominous. The dress of my little sister fluttering in the wind was of a light
color, it looked like it was capturing all the sunlight.
Although because of her fragility
there were a lot of times she wasn’t allowed to leave her room, a bright place
suited her well.
Eventually, my seemingly-getting-along-well
parents and little sister stopped in one place and lunch was unwrapped before
them. The well-organized maids had
already brought a table from the mansion.
When my fingers followed their
silhouettes across the glass of the window, it felt like I could touch this
happy and harmonious family, but it was somewhat painful.
These archives were the place I
belonged to; it was my job to drive knowledge into my head here. No one said
anything about this, and because mother was making an unusually satisfied
expression, I thought it was fine. Even now that feeling remained unshaken.
But speaking of interacting with my
parents, it only happened during dinner time. I didn’t even have a memory of
having one conversation with father.
I really wanted to hear his opinion
on questions related to the territory management, but when I asked the servant
to tell him I wanted to ask for his instructions, my meeting request was
rejected in one word, saying he was busy.
With a hint of sarcasm, I was told
there was no free time, not even a few minutes to spare for me.
That person was looking at Silvia
with a smile, standing in front of a canvas placed in the garden.
From where I stood, I could see
father drawing a picture, and I understood my little sister was his model.
Was it mother’s role to ascertain
that? She was standing at a little distance from these two, watching over them.
Sometimes laugher was mixed in their
conversation, and its echoes were thoroughly delivered to the place I stood. I
was so far apart from them, and yet I heard it, how strange that was.
A peaceful day. A day lively passed
with family. And I, who was looking at it from a distant place.
Incidentally, my line of sight fell
on the books of foreign languages piled up on the desk. I have to open them
right now and learn the words. Otherwise, I will lose to the other young ladies
of my generation.
Like this, I don’t think now is the
time to look at the figures of my parents and my little sister.
But, but... My gaze refused to peel
off them.
In order to break it off, I took a
step back. Immediately my strength left me. I couldn’t support the weight of my
body. My right hand that I extended promptly brushed off the pile of books.
Oh no, just
as I thought that, the books collapsed and at the same time, the ink bottle
fell over. The deep blue liquid spread on the desk, drops of it felling from
its corner one after the other, mercilessly staining the books on the floor.
Confused by the sudden incident,
reflexively, I reached out to catch the drops and stop the flow of the ink. From
my fingertips to my wrist, everything was dyed dark blue, and while I didn’t
know what it represented, I thought that the real me might be dirtied all over
like this.
In my repeating lives, I did
everything in order to protect myself.
Even when I fell as low as becoming
a prostitute, I kept my life by submitting my body.
In order to accumulate as many
“today” as possible. That was my objective, and this and only this became my
life.
When I thought so, I irremediably
wanted to cry, but when the urge to cry arose, I strongly shut down my eyes. My
clenched teeth made a disagreeable sound. Even so, I didn’t want to loosen my
lips.
Because it seemed like if I were to
relax my strength even the slightest bit, sobbing would leak out. I kept
blinking over and over, waiting for my tears to scatter.
With both hands dyed black, I held
on my heart atop my clothes.
… … On the day I made my social
debut, the one who escorted me to make the courtesy calls was Soleil. He looked
at the pendant decorating my neck and said it was a magnificent jewel. After
praising the dressed up me, saying I was “beautiful” in a tone devoid of any
emotion, he continued with another comment, your
father’s love for you can be seen through it.
He had been right. As there were no
other stones semblable to the big gem that was the same color as my eyes, the
color of dead leaves, it fetched a high price for its rarity.
It wasn’t wrong to say it was
magnificent. It was also not wrong to say father’s love could be seen through
it.
It clearly showed how especially not
loved I was.
But at that time, it was alright.
Because after all, Soleil was there. Because he was holding my hand, supporting
my body when I seemed to be about to fall because of my brand-new shoes I
wasn’t used to.
His cold, freezing gaze even
appeared lovely to me. Just the thought that one day, this man would become my
husband was enough to fill my heart with satisfaction.
Probably no one else would
understand. Understand my craving for other’s warmth because mother wouldn’t
embrace me. Understand my feeling that an ordinary painting made by an amateur,
something that shouldn’t have any value, was more beautiful and precious than
any gem.
How miserable I had been, living
while telling myself that it wasn’t like I wasn’t loved.
That was why I unconditionally loved
the man who would become my husband.
“…… Have you ever tried to think about why you aren’t loved?”
In one of my lives, there had been a
person who told me this in that place.
When the sunlight felt on the
pitch-black robe, I noticed it had just a little bit of a tinge of blue.
Even though it was a disturbing
conversation, those black eyes were completely calm.
“Just as there is no reason for loving someone, have you never thought
there might be no reason for not being loved?”
Even if I thought his porcelain face
didn’t look human, I also thought it was affixed with a somehow grieving
expression.
That being said, he didn’t seem to
be acting. I simply knew those eyes, those eyes that seemed to be doubting
everything and anything in the world.
I was sitting down at the desk,
holding my pen like usual, but I couldn’t write down a single thing in the
notebook. Crow, who had dropped his line of sight on that hand, laughed once
again.
“Why?”
The question echoed in the archives
as the laugher from outside could still be faintly heard.
“Why... has Crow…”
My voice trembled greatly. The pounding
of my heart relentlessly grew inside my ears.
“… If there is no reason to love, then what you are doing may be
meaningless.”
Beyond my hazy field of vision, I
could see a white face awkwardly smiling at me.
That Crow would have such a human
expression so unlike him made me laugh.
Seeing me like this, Crow answered
while directing his gaze toward the window, “Even I laugh.”
I told him that I knew it was
meaningless, but maybe because he didn’t hear my murmuring voice, there was no
answer… …
“Why, here...”
My fingertips were cold. The me and the
Crow inside my memory had certainly exchanged those words in the archives.
But until now, I hadn’t remembered
it.
No, rather than that… … I didn’t
even have the memory of it.
In the past, I was a person who
never forgot anything. For that reason, I thought I could never cast aside my
love.
But as my lives piled up, my memory
became cloudy. There were things I could recall and things I couldn’t do so anymore.
It was surely like this.
… … There might be something, something very important, that I have forgotten.
Nocta’s talkative note:
First, the most important:
“Since you’ll be fine even if we leave you by yourself, I can rest assured,”
Since even if you are left alone, it’s fine, I don’t have to care
I don’t know if I made the nuance clear. In the 2nd sentence, Ilya’s mother is saying “you don’t matter, I don’t care about you, there is no need to worry about you whether you are left alone or not.” That kind of heartless words. The Japanese raw were great about those two sentences. Hardly any words changed but the meaning completely did.
Now, let’s ramble and chatter:
Aah I died. It was too long. Moreover, it was only huge, compact paragraphs of words. Usually I respect the author’s disposition of the text, but this time I cut down the paragraphs to make it more readable. You might also have been wondering why sometimes the dialogues are standing alone on a line and sometimes they are in the middle of a paragraph, or even in italic, but that’s all because I’m keeping it the way the author wrote. Even though I think it’s really messy.
Regarding this chapter’s content, hehe last time we discovered how neglected Ilya had been by her mother, now we see her father is even worse, he doesn’t even bother pretending to like her. And there is the painting! Foreshadowed in a previous chapter as being hanged in a corridor, like a simple decoration, it actually had much more meaning! It’s proof of how much their father loves Silvia more than Ilya! And this painting is only the beginning, mwahahaha.