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.
