Chapter 64

 9 – Marianne’s Truth – 3

 

To put it simply... ...I was wrong.

 

************************

 

I enrolled in the academy at thirteen years old.

Most of the students who attended the academy came from aristocratic families or those of similar social standing. However, if you had the wealth to attend and could provide a guarantor, a title wasn't strictly necessary. Either way, prospective students needed a solid education beforehand, meaning they generally had to be wealthy enough to afford a private tutor.

 

Furthermore, those without connections or renowned backgrounds—essentially, those from the so-called lower classes—weren’t even eligible to apply. It revealed that the ideal held up by the academy, “equality in learning,” was a mere pretense.

This was because the academy was a place for immature children, people who would one day play a central role in the country, to learn about society. So that when they enter high society, those of higher ranks do not oppress those of lower ranks. And so that those of lower ranks do not abase themselves and overly respect those of higher ranks.

This was, in a sense, due to the country's policy to prevent power from being concentrated in the hands of a few aristocratic families.

 

“I saw that Lady Ilya is in the library again today,” murmured the daughter of a viscount who I'd recently become close to. She shielded her eyes from the soft sunlight with her small hand. The light that filtered through her fingers illuminated her ruby eyes.

“She really is a hard-working person,” she said, with a warm and familiar smile. She was a friend I'd made since entering the academy.

However, if our friendship were to become public, the people around me would all urge me to reconsider it. They would say that our ranks were too far apart, and that it was a problem.

As a matter of fact, within the academy, students could interact with each other regardless of ranks. However, that was not the case outside of school. If a lower-ranking person behaved rudely to a higher-ranking person in public, it would lead to disastrous consequences.

For that reason, most students conducted themselves in a way that was in line with their rank. It's safer that way. Even I didn't think I could build a friendship with a viscount's daughter.

 

Her unusual circumstances overturned those preconceived notions.

 

“After I graduate from the academy, it’s been decided that I will be married off to a remote region. I’ll become the third wife of a wealthy merchant.”

Once I'm married, I will never return to the royal capital. In addition, as the third wife, I won't need to attend social events.

“So, titles and such mean nothing to me anymore. Once I leave, I will never see Lady Marianne again.”

Basically, there is no point in trying to curry favor with anyone, and even if I'm punished for being rude, it will be all the same since I will end up leaving the royal capital anyway. Therefore, while I will never forget my manners, there is no meaning in behaving in a way that is conforming with my peerage.

Was it just me, or didn’t she sound a little resigned?

“...If that's the case, then why are you being so friendly with me?”

Tilting her head, she replied, “I just wanted to talk to you, Lady Marianne.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks as she spoke, a smile playing on her lips—a smile that seemed to use up all the courage she possessed so that she could talk to me.

Her face was exquisitely lovely, like a doll I'd seen somewhere. I found myself thinking, “If she were among my collection, she'd be my absolute favorite, the one I'd dress up most beautifully.” 

“You used up all your courage just to talk to me? What a waste! Wouldn't it have been better to save that courage for something more important in the future?”

I genuinely wondered why talking to me was such a monumental task. I was so surprised when she responded, “Lady Marianne, you may not realize this, but you are that kind of person. Just having you say a word to me makes me feel like I'm in heaven. Even now, it still does.”

Apparently, it was said that becoming close to the daughter of the most powerful Earl will lead to an improvement in your social standing.

“That means that befriending you holds such deep meanings and implications.”

“Is that so...”

I didn't know whether to be happy or sad. I didn't think I had that much value, and even if I did, it's only in my family background. It's disheartening to think people only saw my family, not me.

 

“So, do your parents know about your relationship with me, Rubi?”

When I asked, she shook her head vehemently and boasted, “It's a secret.” She explained that while her parents would likely be thrilled to know she'd been in contact with Lady Marianne, she didn't want to be a part of any conflict of interest like that.

 

“I just wanted to become friends with Lady Marianne. I knew that if we could do that, it would be a memory that would last a lifetime.”

 

A lifetime? I shrugged, thinking it was too exaggerated. Surely, we would meet many different people and make countless memories from now on. But as if to answer me, my friend narrowed her soft eyes and said in a whisper, “It's fine. I'm happy like this.”

She continued, saying that our secret meetings behind the school building felt like stolen moments, a thrilling rendezvous, and she enjoyed it.

Come to think of it, I remembered a similar scene in a novel that was popular in high society recently. They were genuinely lovers, though. But it made me wonder...could such intensity exist in friendship, too?

 

And suddenly, I realized that this was the kind of relationship I always wanted to have with Ilya. Even if it was just for a few minutes. There was nothing I wanted more than to be able to talk face-to-face.

“You shouldn't get along with the daughter of the Matisse family.”

I covered my ears to ward off the voice of my father that echoed in the back of my mind. Taking into account what my mother had said, it really was best if no one knew.

“Lady Marianne?”

“... ...Um, sorry, I need to leave. I just remembered I had something to do,” I said hastily, putting the snacks I had spread out on the bench away in a basket. Ruby was surprised, but instead of scolding me for my selfish behavior, she politely asked, “Would you like to join me again next time?” I agreed without hesitation and hurried over to where Ilya was, which was apparently the library again today.

 

“...You are a great piano player. I was very moved.”

 

Wondering if she'd remembered that time, I quickened my pace and prepared to speak to Ilya. I felt unusually nervous.

When was the last time I spoke to her? It was so long ago that I couldn't even remember clearly.

And that's because, as I had feared, Ilya and I hardly ever met until we entered the academy.

The wife of the Matisse family attended tea parties hosted by our family, and of course my mother was invited to tea parties hosted by the Matisse family and other families. But the wives almost never brought their own children with them.

I now understand that this was partly unavoidable.

 

For the nobles, tea parties are a time of rest but also hold great importance in a way. When several families gather together, it becomes a social occasion where all kinds of information are exchanged. However, as it is ultimately a gathering of women, political maneuvering is not encouraged. The women are all knowledgeable about the affairs of their households, about each household's finances and family relationships.

In the end, since it is a political event, if the families are close and have personal ties, children are invited as well, but otherwise young children do not attend.

 

So, I could say I was lucky to have had the chance to speak with Ilya even a few times.

Very occasionally, if there were gatherings to which children were invited, I would look for her there, hoping for a chance to talk without being seen. But it was a miscalculation on my part.

What I didn't count on was that adults were keeping an eye on our movements. They pretended to be just watching over the children, but their gazes were very sharp. No one was happy about Ilya and me being close. This was probably due to the factions my father had told me about, but the fact that Ilya was the fiancée of the eldest son of the Marquis also undoubtedly had an influence.

 

When she was young, there were people who would openly insult her, saying that “she didn’t know her place and was overreaching.” But as time passed, they seemed to realize that they could not persuade the Marquis family to change their mind.

If things continued this way, she, currently from the third-ranked Earl family and merely a middle-ranking noble, would rise through several ranks after her marriage. Eventually, she would become a high-ranking noble, of which there were only a limited number, and would rise above the nobles gathered at the tea party. She could easily become someone difficult to associate with.

If that's the case, it would be better not to get close to her in the first place. The children were acutely aware of the adults' circumstances, and Ilya became increasingly isolated.

 

“That child is standing on the frozen ice above a lake,” I once heard someone whisper.

 

If that's the case, then I wanted to become closer to her all the more. I didn't want to leave her alone.

But even when I approached Ilya simply to say hello, someone would cut in line and get in my way. Sometimes it was one of the wives, and sometimes it was a girl my age. I didn't know if they were trying to protect me, or her. But it was clear that they were all doing so under someone's orders.

I couldn't bring myself to push them away, so I reluctantly dealt with them, and before I knew it, Ilya had disappeared.

I wonder when that clever girl started avoiding me.

 

I wanted to approach her. But I had no way to do so.

It was extremely frustrating not being able to be close to her openly.

I secretly asked my mother if I could write about it in secret, but she flatly rejected it, saying that it was out of the question.

After all, no evidence should be left behind in these matters.

I was considering a plan to use one of our family's spies, but my mother again gave me a piece of advice.

“The academy is a place where adults can't interfere,” she said.

It would be much easier to talk to her than now, when she was completely under her parents' protection. ---That was a few years ago.

 

I think I held back and endured quite well.

 

“Well, isn't it Lady Ilya? Are you studying a language?”

 

In the library. I called out to a girl studying with a pile of reference books. There was no one else there.

The academy had three libraries, and the one Ilya often used was the oldest of them. It was fairly well known that she occupied this room, which was why not many other people came near here. The prestige of being the fiancée of the eldest son of a marquis was apparent in a place like this. Before she entered the academy, everyone didn't think much of her and kept their distance.

But once we sat next to each other at the same school, it was hard not to realize just how excellent she was.

And so, naturally, prejudice would fade.

As always, there were people who would say a nasty remark or two to her if they were of the same or a higher family rank. But I no longer heard such immoral remarks that were on the level of abusive language.

Maybe their hopes of replacing Soleil's fiancée had vanished at this point. Even though I wasn't a family member, I felt proud.

 

“...Yes, that's right.”

 

Ilya looked up at me with a puzzled look on her face, her eyes a mysterious mix of amber and green.

They caught the sunlight streaming in through the large windows and reflected a soft light like crystals. It was the first time since I entered the academy that I'd stood so close to her.

“I heard you got a high score on the exam the other day. That's wonderful.”

I asked if it was okay for me to sit next to her, and after a moment of hesitation, she replied in the affirmative, so I sat down enthusiastically.

There were many things I wanted to talk about.

Ilya straightened up, moved her chair slightly, and turned to face me.

“I am no match for you, Lady Marianne.”

I noticed that her braided hair was a little darker than it had been since she was a child. Such a small change. I was so moved that we were able to talk face-to-face that I missed the words Ilya had just let slip.

“What did you just say?” I had simply asked, but that child gasped and tried to stand up, saying, “I am honored to receive your praise.” I quickly stopped her, but somehow it felt like a strange atmosphere had flowed between us.

The formal thank you was far too formal. In an instant, it was as if an invisible wall had been built between us.

She gazed at me with a refreshingly pure gaze, and I couldn’t find my words. Even though I have thought many times about what I would say if we could talk face-to-face like this.

 

“...I would like to know how you usually study.”

 

I became confused by the words that just slipped out of my mouth. It sounded like I was being sarcastic. Asking her what she did to get that high score was the same as asking if she cheated or something.

After all, I definitely knew how hard Ilya was studying.

“I have a long way to go. Lady Marianne, you have much better grades than me, don't you think? I am really... not even close.”

I could see her fists on her lap tightening.

I remembered the other day when the exam results were posted in the hallway. In terms of ranking alone, I was ahead of her.

However, I was just good at answering the questions on the test, and I could confidently say that I did not know more things than Ilya. There was a girl in the year above me whose family was close friends with us, and she told me about the exam trends and how to prepare.

This kind of thing often happened at the academy.

It was also important for expanding one's network, so the exchange of information between students was actually encouraged.

“Lady Ilya, if you do not mind, we can study..."

...together? As I began to ask, the faces of my parents came to mind. Ilya tilted her head, looking puzzled at the unnatural halt in my words.

I felt that sitting next to her to study together was crossing the line. After all, this place was open to everyone, and anyone could use it freely. You never know when or who might see you.

 

So, what should I do to stay with her?

 

Normally, I was overly talkative, so much so that my mother laughed at me for having such a quick tongue. How could I be this bad at having a conversation with her? Being able to provide witty conversation was the foundation of a gentleman or lady. At an aristocratic dinner, it was considered unrefined if you couldn’t converse well enough to not make the other person feel uncomfortable.

“...Lady Marianne, you are a good piano player, aren't you?”

I gasped when she said this unexpectedly. I wondered if she remembered that time.

But then she said, “You performed in the auditorium the other day, right?”

“Ah, uh, yes.”

At the academy, a music appreciation event is held once every few months. Usually, top performers are invited, but sometimes students who are good at playing an instrument also perform. They can be self-nominated or recommended by others, but I didn't volunteer; I was recommended by other students and asked by the academy to play the piano. In such cases, it is an official request from the academy to my family, so it is also an honor.

Therefore, there is hardly anyone who would refuse if they were nominated by the academy.

 

“I'm not very good at that song. But after hearing your performance, I am less and less...”

 

Ilya looked down, her long eyelashes casting a shadow on her pale cheeks.

She was silent, so when I urged her on, “Less and less?” she seemed flustered and shook her head, “Ah, no. It is nothing.” Then she stood up briskly.

“Um, I apologize. It is almost time for my tutor to arrive, so I have to go back to the mansion—”

 

As she said this, she started to clear away the books piled up on the desk. I wondered if she was really in a hurry, and in that case, I couldn’t bear to stop her. So, I must tell her what I’ve always been wanting to tell her all this time.

 

“Lady Ilya.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I thought your piano playing... was truly wonderful. Careful and delicate. I was deeply moved.”

 

If I closed my eyes, I could picture the image of a young Ilya with her fingers flying on the keys. If I listened carefully, I could almost hear the sound from back then. She must be much better now. I was about to ask if I could hear her play someday when she said,

 

“I do not like playing the piano.”

 

A voice devoid of warmth came back, interrupting my next words.

As if to say that my compliments meant nothing. Then she continued, “I really must go now.” Ilya turned her face away, as if she was doing so on purpose.

It's no good. If this continues, she'll be leaving---.

“Umm, Lady Ilya.”

“... Yes?”

When I called her, she turned around, but I could see the tension in her slightly trembling shoulders.

“If you don’t mind, would you like to meet here again? I'd like to talk more.”

I spoke a little too quickly because I was feeling uncharacteristically impatient. If I missed this chance, who knew when we'd be alone again?

The girl stopped moving, straightened up, and took a step back. I gasped, realizing that the distance between us has definitely grown, even if only slightly. It seemed she was wary. I was the one who flinched as she stared at me straight in the eye.

 

“Why?”

 

I was at a loss for words when she asked me with eyes so frank that they were pure and innocent. My voice must have hushed as I answered, “I want to be friends.” Then she asked again, “Why?”

“Why...?”

There's no reason. I just wanted to be close to her. But at this point, I could tell.

She didn't like me.

“Lady Marianne, please do not force yourself. You don't need to be so considerate. I have a lot of things I need to do. So,"

 

Please leave me alone.

 

The words sounded extremely cold, piercing my heart. The young lady took a breath, smiled softly and elegantly, then kneeled down and said, "Well then, goodbye," and I was unable to respond. As she turned on her heels, some of her braided hair fell over her shoulder. The image was burned into my mind.

I had no words to say to her straight back. I didn't even know what had happened. Had I hurt Ilya’s feelings? Or did she hate me? Even though we hadn't exchanged many words?

 

It was painful. Somehow, just too much.

I wonder why.

 

Why?

 

 

**************************************

 

“No, Lady Marianne. Lady Ilya was not angry, she was just hurt.”

 

After my encounter with Ilya, I was clearly depressed. Ruby pressed me about what had happened. At first, I hadn't intended to say it, but when she said, “Lady Marianne, your feelings will spread to those around you. Everyone is feeling restless,” she was implicitly offering me an honest but harsh piece of advice about my attitude, leaving me with no room for defense. I had no choice but to tell her the situation, and after a slight hesitation, she said:

 

“Lady Marianne, you probably didn't know this, but I heard that the two of you were nominated for the performance at the auditorium the other day.”

Chapter 63

Nocta's confidence: 
I'm going to be honest with you: this chapter was 90% translated by Google Translate. My Japanese is too rusty now, and I do not have the time or energy to translate it myself. Not when AIs these days have become so efficient.

Chapter 63

 9 – Marianne’s Truth – 2

“Do not get too close to the daughter of the Matisse family.” 

That’s what my father told me back when I was waiting for an opportunity to talk to Ilya. 

He called me to his study, a place I usually wasn’t allowed to enter freely, so I was wondering what it was all about. However, that man I was seeing for the first time in a long time gave me this order bluntly.

What’s more, he did so while running his quill across the paper. 

For him, it was probably just a trivial topic that could be dealt with while he was running his errands.

When I remained silent, he glanced my way and gently reassured me, “Do you understand?”

I pursed my lips even more and just stared at my father’s hand. 

Eventually, the gentleman rested his elbows on the solid wooden desk and gave me a wry smile, “Don’t make that face.” It was only after he pointed it out that I realized I was behaving in a way that was inappropriate for a lady.

I immediately straightened my gaze and met my father’s eyes. 

Even though he had a cheerful face, there was something intimidating about him, as expected from someone who governed an earldom. For some reason, I felt that he would be scary if he got angry. 

“Do you understand what I mean?”

He asked in a deliberately gentler tone than previously, before lowering his eyes again. 

It would be easy to say “no,” but I knew that he wasn’t someone I could get through to with just that single word. 

That’s why I tried to think about what to say and how to explain. However, I couldn’t seem to put my thoughts into words. Had I been an eloquent adult, I might have been able to put up a little resistance, but in the first place, I had no argument to persuade my father with.

It was just a few days ago that my tutor had encouraged me and given me his approval. If I couldn’t find the right words at a time like this, it would have been all for nothing.

No matter how much you study, if it doesn’t become useful in your real life, you can’t say that you’ve learned anything. A sense of impatience filled my chest. 

I still had a long way to go. 

“What a troublesome girl.”

The sound of my father’s pen moving echoed across the room as he seemed to have returned to his paperwork. It sounded like a regular, nervous grating, or maybe a rustling, like a long vowel. 

It was pleasant to listen to, as if he was playing music. His elegant fingers moved like a conductor’s. 

... ... And yet, the backs of his bony hands were tanned by the sun, and he looked nothing like a delicate person. 

I heard that before I was born, he had fought in battles as a knight. The old kneehole desk inherited from his predecessor, which only the head of the family was allowed to use, also played a part in bringing out his dauntless and rugged side.

Even now, he never neglects his training so that he is ready to fight at any time in case of an emergency. 

Suddenly, I felt a prickly sensation on my forehead, so I turned my wandering gaze back. Without me realizing, father’s hand had stopped moving. Now father was looking at me with interest as he pushed aside the documents he had been working on, which were slightly less in quantity than before.

“I don’t dislike that stubborn side of yours, but things will not always go your way, Marianne.”

Still, I couldn’t just nod in agreement, so I remained silent. The gaze father was giving me made me uncomfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable. I knew he wasn’t someone who would raise his hand without a reason, so I decided to keep quiet for as long as he would tolerate. 

And finally. 

I didn’t know how much time had passed in this stillness. Blowing away the heavy and tense air that had enveloped us, father suddenly laughed. “Sit down,” he told me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

Having been standing for so long, my legs were stiff as sticks. I had recently increased the height of my heels, and my toes had become numb.

Because of this, my movements were a little unnatural. However, I hoped that the numerous layers of frills of my ankle-length dress would hide it well. 

Always act like a lady at all times. 

If you were born an aristocrat’s daughter, you had to understand and accept that. 

“There is no need to brace yourself like this, you know?”

The moment I sat down on the sofa, my mother, who had been silently watching the scene unfold, called out to me. 

This person had already been in the room when I entered, but she had kept her presence hidden until now. 

As I looked up at her face, which was so delicate you would have thought it had been intricately crafted and measured with a ruler, I felt the soft fabric under me bounce as if it might sink at any moment. 

Unlike my father’s favorite desk, this couch was a new one, purchased just the other day. A merchant, who had been coming to our house for a long time, had brought it over in high spirits, saying that he had procured the finest goods from abroad. 

This merchant - I should call him our family’s merchant - was an acquaintance of mine who has been taking care of me occasionally. For this reason, even though I had no interest in this newly purchased furniture, I had to listen to him rambling about who the designer was, where it was imported from, and so on. 

To make it even more tedious, mother said that it was all part of my education. Even after the merchant left, it was a hassle because I had to review everything I had learned. 

In truth, the ability to ascertain the quality of items is both a necessity and a given for the upper class. However, that talent doesn’t come naturally. 

My mother always said, “To achieve anything, you learn through devoting yourself to your studies.”

She was the one who chose the fabric of the sofa and, as expected, she had good taste as it was beautiful and felt good to the touch.

In high society, the dresses my mother wears frequently become a topic in conversations before eventually turning into a trend. 

She was a rare beauty, and also possessed a sophisticated sense of fashion.

She was destined to become an aristocrat, born to be one. It’s no wonder people say that. 

Being the daughter of such a person came with a heavy burden, but luckily, I resembled my mother a lot. 

When she and I were standing together, people said that, so I guess it must be true. When I look in the mirror, I see a face apparently similar to my mother’s when she was young.

In high society, “beauty” is justice.

It wasn’t just once or twice that I was glad I looked like mother.   

“However, this will not do, my dear husband. Even if she is your daughter, it is plain negligence to not express yourself fully.”   

Although mother was extremely kind to me, this beautiful woman was somewhat strict towards her husband as she elegantly raised her teacup. 

Father sat on the opposite sofa and shook his head while sighing. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

Father, who was described by those around him as cold-hearted and a hard worker, was also known as a devoted husband.

“Isn’t it necessary to explain why she has to do this? We are a family. We are not masters and servants. We cannot just answer “yes” to what you order us to do.”

Do not think you can manipulate us at will, please.

Her smile never faded, yet her displeasure wasn’t hidden.

Recently, mother has changed the color of her hair to crimson, looking even more youthful than before, and her girlish innocence bewitches others. Even I, her daughter, find this troublesome.

That's because no one can oppose her.

The same was true of my father, who wields absolute power over a vast territory, protects its people, and commands numerous knights.

The head of our household gave a wry smile but nodded.

“... ...To be frank, I don’t think that sharing everything with your family is a good thing. Because then, I won’t be able to protect you if the time comes,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, I guess so?”

My mother opened her large eyes wide and tilted her delicate head, and a familiar scent wafted from her.

It seems that in high society there are popular scents, but my mother hires a private perfumer to create her perfumes, so she wears a scent that is unique.

It's a scent that always protects me.

"For example, if I were to be charged with a crime, I wouldn't be able to claim that my wife and child knew nothing about it. Isn't that right?” My father, who had been looking at my mother sincerely up until that moment, suddenly shifted his gaze to me.

He was seeking my agreement to his suggestion.

Just as I was unintentionally about to nod "yes," mother replied, "Well, my dear husband. In that case, you are not very reliable. From what you just said yourself, you will not be able to protect Marianne and me if something happens? If that's the case, I am terrified."

“Wait, wait,”

“In that case, if the time comes, I will protect Mariane, and Mariane only.”

For a cold-hearted husband, a cold-hearted wife was a good match. 

"If the time comes, I am prepared to abandon you, so rest assured."

Hiding their true feelings behind a mask in the form of a smile was something nobles were good at, but when my mother was with her family, she added her real emotions to her smile that could charm anyone in this world.

It seemed that she believed that pretense is useless within a family.

Having been born into nobility, she knows that this is not normal. In every household, the patriarch holds full authority, and in a male-dominated world, women have few rights. A wife is merely a "supporting figure" and must obey her husband. This is considered the norm.

That's what a good wife and wise mother is like.

I still don’t know if that’s really the case, though.

“... ...I’m really no match for you. It’s a political matter, so I cannot tell you everything, but to sum it up...”

My father and Ilya’s father were apparently political opponents.

Several factions exist in high society, and each group is controlled by what they call a chief aristocrat.  

They are what we call nobles of high peerage, and naturally among them, there are some people who are not easily met by someone with the rank of earl like my family. In other words, they are people of noble blood who have ties to the royal family.

My father and Ilia's father appear to belong to opposing factions. And so, no matter how much they wish to be friends, they are not allowed to become close without the permission of the leaders who control their respective factions.

"Oh, but... there is no prohibition on a friendship between me and Count Matisse's wife."

I was invited to her tea party just the other day. My mother said with a smile, and she was so refined that I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

Feeling a little scared, I shifted my gaze over her slender shoulder to look at the plain wall. A painting in a small frame that radiated presence was exposed there.

There were many expensive pieces of furniture in our house, and I could tell with a single glance that they were all made by craftsmen who put their souls into them. When I stood in front of them, I felt their awe-inspiring and solemn beauty with my whole body. These powerful works of art seemed to have life in them.

My mother was similar to them.

“On the contrary, I would be troubled if you two didn’t get along.”

“...?”

Something warm pressed down on my hand, and I regained consciousness. I must have been distracted. My mother's slender fingers were resting on the back of my hand.

“Even if the countess and you get along well, no one will think that you are good friends. In fact, even if you said you’re sworn sisters, no one would believe it. Because our family and the Matisse family will never coexist in peace." So instead, on the surface, we have to get along well. If the king were to mistakenly think that we were at odds, we would lose his trust.

“Do you understand?” my father asked gently. It seemed as if he was trying to warn my mother. To always place importance on "our house." Implicitly, our own will and desires should come second.

I glanced up and saw that my mother's beautiful profile was not one bit wavering, and her smiling eyes hadn’t changed in the slightest. However, it was her expression, whose emotion was unreadable, that spoke volumes. She had understood father’s will. 

Seeing this, the head of our household smiled with satisfaction.

It seemed that a reply was not needed anymore, and that once a couple became husband and wife, they could come to a mutual understanding just by looking each other in the eye.

“...But Marianne, you are still a child. If you and lady Ilya become close, it would be taken literally. Innocent children should be unrelated to political schemes. And to others, it would seem that we parents are tolerating that."

Father looked straight at me. But as expected, it seemed like he was telling me something complicated, and the more I listened, the more confused I became. I didn’t understand what he was really trying to say.

“However, that would be problematic. Some people would think that our family and the Matisse family are colluding and using our children to plot something. This possibility exists.”

As father’s eyes turned sharper, I was startled and my heart throbbed. I clutched mother's hand as if clinging to it. She squeezed it back with the same strength as my own. This simple gesture reassured me.

“It's unfortunate for you, Marianne. But if you're born into a noble family, you have to choose the people you associate with. At all times, you have to keep engraved in your mind that there will always be people trying to bring you down."

Being suspicious of others is not a bad thing. It should be a shield that protects you.

"When you step out of the house, you have to don your armor. It may be difficult for you now, Marianne, as you’re still young, but remember that. So come on, smile."

My stiff cheeks twitched. There's no way I could laugh after being suddenly told not to be close to a child I had hoped to become friends with. But father ordered me to do so.

Mother just smiled gently at me and didn't say anything. Her eyes, which looked like jewels, spoke to me by themselves.

That was the answer. They were showing me how a lady should be.

I could no longer protest anymore. Because I admired my mother. I always wanted to be that kind of woman. So even if I didn't accept or agree with something, I should just elude it with a smile.

"...Father. I will make sure no one sees me. I will not let anyone notice."

If I smiled and followed my father's instructions, things would work out. I knew it, but my sheer determination slipped off my tongue.

In truth, I had already started to regret it. If I was going to call out to Ilya, then I should have done so right after she had finished performing. 

It would have been great if I had said something. 

Before the adults gathered at the venue started to speak ill of her performance. I should have simply said, "It was wonderful."

Because I had swallowed back that single sentence, as more time passed, I no longer knew what to say.

When all is said and done, I was too late.

Until we entered the academy, it was uncertain that I would even have a chance to meet her. Sometimes children were invited to tea parties hosted by noblewomen, but sometimes they weren't. It was rare for the sons and daughters of middle-ranked noble families to gather in the same room, like at the tea party the other day. 

And now that time had passed, even if I were to meet Ilia, I felt that simply giving her a compliment would not properly convey the greatness of her performance.

I didn't want it to seem like I was just being polite.

"Marianne, stop."

Mother gently let go of my hand, but I turned pale, wondering if I'd made a terrible mistake.

"No, Marianne." My mother got off the sofa and knelt on the carpet, looking up at me. She grabbed my hands, which were trembling as I thought I was going to be scolded, and said with a plea, 

"You don't have to say anything. You don't need to let everyone know what you want to do or what you must do. There's nothing wrong with keeping your true intentions deep in your heart so that no one knows. Rather, keep the things that are truly important to you deep in your heart and don't show them to anyone. The same applies to me and your father. Just because we're family, you don't have to tell us everything."

You never know when or by whom something precious to you might be taken away.

“Right, my dear husband?”

“Hmm, isn’t that different from what you said earlier?”

“... Oh! Is that so?”

“Yes. You asked me to explain myself, but now you tell Marianne that she doesn’t have to.” At first glance, he seemed to be questioning his wife, but on the opposite, his expression relaxed. 

“Then am I wrong, dear?”  

She tilted her slender neck. My mother is also the mistress of this house. She may look weak but she's not, and she may seem unable to express her opinion but she's not.

Her soft-looking body conceals a will strong like steel.

"I don't want to agree."

My father looked at his beloved, his gaze hiding a different intention than he had when his eyes were on me.

"But..."

Maybe it's because you're like that that I love you. He muttered to himself, looking up to the sky as he heaved a deep sigh.

"Because Marianne is smart. I believe she will be able to take each of our points of view into account."

Just do not make the wrong choice. If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.

Chapter 62

                                                                                            Chapter 64