Chapter 70

 9 – Marianne’s Truth – 9

 

My father showed no remorse whatsoever; rather, he nodded to himself with a somewhat proud expression.

In other words, there had been a true successor in our family all along, one that had never been revealed.

My younger stepbrother bowed his head, gazing at the two small fists neatly lined up on his knees.

 

“But the order is wrong. I was born first, and my fiancé was assigned to me before this child was born, right?”

He looks about ten years old, or at the very least much younger than me.

“Ah, well, that's true.”

 

I always thought my brother would have survived and started a family somewhere. I knew from the beginning that your husband would never come into our home.

 

“Is, that so...”

 

The fact, stated so casually, simply brought me down. I had a feeling it was true, but hearing it put into words made me sad.

It might be difficult, but I hadn't ruled out the possibility of Evan, born into a baronial family, succeeding my father and becoming the head of the earl's family.

However, from the very beginning, when he was designated as my fiancé, he wasn't even considered a candidate for successor.

As for myself, once I married Evan, I wouldn't be able to stay in this house.

In other words, my engagement to a lower-ranking fiancé must have been for the sake of the true heir, whose existence is uncertain.

From the start, they had taken preemptive measures to ensure that there was no chance, even a one in ten thousand, of me and my child ever fighting for the title.

 

Make sure I never, under any circumstances, desire this house. It's all far too meticulously planned.

 

“Marianne. There's one thing I don't want you to misunderstand.”

“Yes,”

“I cherish you dearly. That much is true. Therefore, I'm willing to give everything in this house to you and your husband. But, you know, there are things far more wonderful in this world than inheriting a vast fortune. I know this because I myself suddenly inherited the house one day.”

“...”

“I had your mother. That was all that mattered to me. But that's not the case for you, is it? You haven't yet met someone who is more important than anything else.”

“...Yes, that's true. Certainly.”

“I sincerely hope from the bottom of my heart that person is Evan. And I want you both to live a peaceful and fulfilling life, more so than inheriting our family.”

“...”

 

I know my father cherishes my mother and me more than anyone else.

So even if the boy before me is truly the heir to this house, I don't think I'll be neglected. Besides, I wasn't educated to be the mistress of this house, so I doubt I'm capable of fulfilling that role.

I admired my mother, I wanted to be like her, and I even asked her how I could become like her.

But the only answer I received was this:

 

“You'll be alright.”

 

Taking those words at face value, I mistakenly thought she was saying that everything I needed was already there and everything would be alright. It wasn't that I was overconfident or overestimating myself.

My mother simply loved and protected me, her daughter, so I concluded it was just a parent's biased view.

Therefore, I never imagined it meant, “You don't need to know.”

I have no need to become like my mother, nor will I inherit her position.

 

“...Um, um, please excuse me!”

 

At that moment, the woman suddenly raised her voice and stood up. While I was still taken aback, my father's low voice rang out. “Cynthia,” It was clearly in a domineering tone.

“...But...!”

While the woman wanted to argue vehemently, he ordered, “Sit down.” And then...

“I won't say it twice,” he said, deliberately gentle. It was so frightening that I got goosebumps.

“...I'm so sorry,” she said, her voice trembling, and she hunched over, as if swallowing her words, before collapsing into a seated position. Unable to bear it any longer, I called out to her.

 

“Is your name Cynthia?”

“!”

 

Cynthia gasped, almost like she had a seizure, and looked up, gazing at me. Her big eyes were glistening with tears. I felt like I was about to cry. “Y-yes,” she nodded, her voice sounding like a young girl's.

She looked about the same age as my mother, yet her expression was innocent and childlike.

Her silent son looked more mature.

 

“Father, Cynthia over there is my younger brother's mother, isn't she? So she's my aunt, right?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“I see...”

 

So, what does that mean?

 

“The fact that my uncle isn't here means he must have passed away. And after my mother died, you both were summoned here as if on cue. What exactly are you planning to do, Father?”

 

My father took his brother's place. He adopted his name, completely replaced a stranger, married my mother, and I was born. But it's certain that I will leave home.

And the legitimate heir he brought in from somewhere is currently no one. He's a child from the common people, and for now, he has no connection to our family whatsoever.

 

“Are you planning to adopt that child?”

“Yes, and there's something I need to tell you.”

“Yes.”

 

I have a bad feeling about this.

 

“I'm thinking of taking her as my second wife.”

“...You're... you're joking, right?”

 

I want to congratulate myself for not screaming. I let out a sigh that went through my nose. It might have seemed like I was mocking him. That wasn't my intention, but my father frowned. The fact that he didn't point out that it was bad manners must mean that he had his own reasons.

Or perhaps he was disappointed.

 

A lady must always wear a smile, never losing her composure and integrity.

That's what the academy teaches.

I was taught that I must always hide my true feelings and smile gracefully and purely.

But...

I don't feel like smiling.

 

“Of course, I don't harbor any ill intentions towards her. And I don't intend to start a new family with her. However, she, not being of noble birth, needs a firm position. To survive in this world, she absolutely must become the mistress of our household.”

“---”

“In order to make this child my heir, she must become my wife, and although it doesn't look very good... it would be better to consider this child as my own, born in the common people.”

It's common for men of noble blood to father children with women from the common people.

“I understand what you're saying. If I consider the two of you, that's what I should do. But...”

“Marianne.”

“Y-yes.”

“I don't need your consent. Do you understand that?”

“---Of course.”

 

The final decision-making power always rested with my father, the head of the family. My mother's strong voice was unique to our household, and it was simply because my father loved her.

 

“I'm so sorry...” Cynthia's faint, tearful voice choked me up.

For some reason, her lost and vulnerable appearance reminded me of the young Ilya.

Even though their appearances were completely different.

 

“What do you think, as the rightful heir? Do you want to inherit this house?”

 

When asked, the boy, who had shrunk as if struck by a blow, had tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, but still said, “Yes.”

“Why? You will one day inherit everything in this house, but it won't be that easy. Becoming the head of a count's family requires considerable resolve. You will have to dedicate yourself to training that will make even blood-sweating effort seem easy. And if you don't produce results, no one will be convinced. Do you think you can do it?”

Grinding his teeth, the boy, who had just been revealed to be my cousin, vowed, “I can.”

 

Why are you showing so much resolve?

That's what I thought, but I felt it wasn't appropriate to press the matter further.

We haven't built that much trust yet. Not yet.

 

“And you, Cynthia? Are you prepared to become the mistress of this house?”

 

I knew it sounded a little mean, but being kind here wouldn't be good for her.

I knew that not only my father, but all the servants, revered my mother and pledged lifelong loyalty to her.

 

In such a mansion, it's easy to imagine what would happen if two complete strangers, acting as if their presence there was perfectly natural, were to appear. The maids, attendants, and servants would surely perform their duties, but it's unlikely they would be warmly welcomed. It would be an unbearable experience.

Perhaps this place would be far from a place of happiness for Cynthia.

 

“---This child is everything to me. If... Wilheim has made up his mind, then I will also make up my mind with him.”

 

So his name is Wilheim. I looked at both of their faces alternately and nodded.

“Then I have nothing more to say.”

When I called Father, he answered with a gentle smile.

 

“I will do my best to help Cynthia.”

 

“Oh?” my father raised both eyebrows and tilted his head. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“There are people I couldn't help when they were in trouble.”

“I see.”

“Yes. So this time, I will extend my hand without hesitation.”

 

I stood up and stood in front of Cynthia. Then I knelt down and took her hand.

Just like Ruby had done for me in the music room.

 

“I don't know if I can become your daughter... but I'm sure we can become family. You shouldn't feel pressured to become my mother either; first, focus on blending into this mansion. Okay?”

“Y-yes.”

I know they must have been anxious on their way here. I don't want to do anything that would corner them.

“And, Wilheim. My brother.”

“Y-yes...!”

 

Please do your best. Otherwise, there will be no point in me leaving this house someday.

As I continued, he straightened his back and raised his voice, “Of course!” as if he were a knight in training.

Seeing my father give a wry smile, I thought. This must be the story he had always dreamed of. The end of his life as a stand-in. Perhaps he had foreseen this happening.

That's why I did what I had to do for him.

What would my mother think of me?

 

What would she have said with those eyes that seemed to see right through everything?

My mother surely wouldn't have accepted these two. In any way.

 

*****

 

It was the day before my mother passed away.

For some reason, her health improved for just a few hours. It was as if she had never been able to get out of bed before.

She put on a dress she had bought but never had a chance to wear, and new shoes that she had kept in the closet. My mother welcomed me into her room.

“Let's talk,” she said, beckoning me with her thin fingers. Then, she set the tea set on the table by the window, and we had tea together.

She smelled the aroma of the tea, savored the sweets, and smiled brightly as she put on some lipstick.

 

I later heard that such things apparently happen on the brink of death.

Or perhaps I was actually dreaming.

 

“This is something I won't tell your father, but would you listen?”

“...Yes,” I replied, already on the verge of tears. My mother looked healthy, but for some reason, I understood that this would be the last time I could speak to her properly.

 

“I have a gardener I've been close to since I was a child.”

“A gardener...?”

“Yes.”

 

Apparently, when my mother married into the count's family, she brought him with her.

 

“I had known him since he was a gardener's apprentice, and we were close in age, so I relied on him unilaterally. When I married into this family, I couldn't bring a maid with me, so I felt very lonely. I asked him to manage the Earl’s garden.”

The gardener apparently stayed at the mansion for a while and worked diligently.

 

“But then, one day, he suddenly ran away.”

 

“Apparently, he was being harassed,” my mother said, sounding rather uninterested. But I couldn't tell what she really thought.

“My family is, of course, of lower social standing than the Earl's family. A gardener who came from that lower family here was highly valued by the Earl, so people must have been jealous.”

“Well,”

“I wondered why he didn't talk to me about it... But he wasn't someone I should have been friendly with in the first place.”

“I didn't mind, but others did.” She said, bringing her teacup to her lips.

 

“I don't know if he tried to contact me, or if he never even tried in the first place. But in the end, we parted ways without ever even seeing each other's faces.”

“Is that so...?”

“Yes.”

“...”

 

I don't really understand what my mother is trying to tell me. When I remained silent,

“Social status isn't something you can change through effort,” the mistress of our house quietly said.

 

“---”

 

“Marianne. Never climb the wall that must not be crossed.”

Please.

This is your mother's last request.

 

 Chapter 69

 

 

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                                               Chapter 70