Chapter 71

 9 – Marianne’s Truth – 10

 

We were about to welcome my stepmother (aunt) and stepbrother (cousin) into our home, but there were quite a few obstacles, and things didn't go smoothly at all.

Given the circumstances, this was to be expected, but it's quite strange that, despite how similar they look, some people have begun to doubt the blood relationship between my father and Wilheim.

 

It might simply be that he wanted to stop my father from taking a second wife, but when I heard that an Earl from another important family had pointed out, "Isn't he just a look-alike?" I was utterly astonished. That person really has bad eyesight.

It's rare for two people to look this much alike.

However, it seems that in high society, there are few people who consider Wilheim to be my father's real son, so it can't be helped. (In reality, that's the case, so perhaps he actually does have a good eye.)

 

There are other things that are bothering me.

 

It seems the servants in our household have complicated feelings about Cynthia and Wilheim, and they are somewhat distant towards them. Of course, no one shows it openly; they understand their position.

Nevertheless, there was an atmosphere that was more than enough to suggest they found it difficult to accept the two of them.

 

Cynthia was seeking instruction from a teacher to learn the ways of a noblewoman, but innate qualities are difficult to acquire later in life. From what I could see, she was struggling.

I wanted to stay as close as possible and teach her what I understood.

I myself am not the type to learn and memorize things; I tend to do things intuitively, so I struggled to guide her in situations where logic was required.

Regarding manners and conduct, in particular, is difficult to explain verbally.

 

Meanwhile, Wilheim is currently learning from father as his successor. His constant following of the head of the family is endearing, but he's far too young to venture into the adult world. I pointed this out, but my opinion was ignored. It seems my father is teaching him everything step by step.

Or maybe, I wonder if he's simply happy to have a son.

Indeed, Wilheim is adorable.

My younger brother, who hasn't even started school yet, is incredibly busy, and we haven't had time to talk properly.

 

I knew the steward seemed to be quite concerned about him, and I wanted to confirm that, but I haven't even had a chance to see him.

 

Everything was at a standstill.

 

It was around that time that I met Ilya in town.

 

It all started when I wanted to get a gift for Cynthia.

She'd been a bit down lately, perhaps because something unpleasant had happened in her etiquette class, so I wanted to find something to cheer her up.

I also considered that she, being from the city, might actually miss the town. Therefore, I thought something that would evoke nostalgia for her former surroundings might be a good idea, and decided to stop by a shop on my way home from the academy.

 

I stepped out of the carriage and walked with my guards.

I looked around at the various shops lining the wide street, glancing at them through the glass windows.

Normally, merchants who frequent the house bring their goods to the mansion. They line up in the reception room, so it's rare for us to go out to the shops like this.

Even so...

When I was a child, my mother often took me out for study.

On those days, when we returned to the mansion, my father would usually ask, “Did you have fun?” But I think deep down he didn't approve of us going out. I remember him looking a little stern.

It wasn't because he wanted to confine his spouse to the mansion or had any other biased views.

 

Simply put, it was dangerous for a noblewoman to walk alone. He was also apparently worried about having a young child like me with her. My father is the type of person who wants to wrap my mother and me in soft cotton and keep us locked away in a treasure chest.

He is extremely cautious and completely protective when it comes to his family. It was quite amusing to see such a different side of him compared to when he makes ruthless decisions as the head of the household.

 

---That bonnet is lovely.

 

I came to find something for Cynthia, but I couldn't help but let out a sigh of admiration.

The merchants who frequent our home know my and my parents' tastes well, so they select and bring items that are likely to please us from the start. And indeed, I generally like them. However, conversely, there's nothing particularly surprising, so I felt a little underwhelmed.

They rarely bring any real bargains.

Of course, they only bring things they know have value. But that's a little less interesting.

Walking around town is much more enjoyable because you can see trendy items regardless of your personal preferences.

 

I was excited and thrilled all by myself. I walked with a calm expression, trying to suppress those feelings.

Although my escort knight was by my side, he only spoke when necessary. He was quiet, and if he judged there was no danger, he would move a little distance away, so I didn't have to draw attention to myself.

 

It was almost as if I were walking alone.

 

Being completely alone is surprisingly rare.

At the academy, friends are always by my side, and at the mansion, maids follow me around. There's always a servant in the corner of my eye, so opportunities to be completely alone are rare.

 

As I walked along, lost in thought, I saw a familiar figure a few meters ahead.

 

---It was Ilya.

 

Unlike me, she seems to have returned to her mansion before going out, as she's dressed more formally than when she's at the academy. Her dress is a little brighter than usual. It's almost dazzling.

She's wearing a wide-brimmed bonnet, so it was hard to recognize her as Ilya.

But it is Ilya.

Her back is straight, and her waist is slender. She walks silently and quietly. Her dress is not flashy, but elegant.

The person nearby is probably her guard. He is watching over her from a distance that is neither too close nor too far.

 

I breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that she was being cherished.

 

I can't help but remember Ilya and her mother from those days when I was little. Her mother's stern tone and harsh gaze.

Ilya must have played her heart out, yet there wasn't a single word of praise.

If only there had been even one word of compliment, I wouldn't be so bothered.

Having grown up feeling loved, I found it strange that her mother treated her so coldly. I wondered if maybe she was always like that.

 

She seems to be allowed to walk around town, and she even has a proper escort.

 

For some reason, I thought of Ruby, who had no choice but to marry and move far away.

You can't judge other people's family relationships from the outside. Only the person themselves knows the depth of their relationships and the inner workings of their family.

Perhaps Ilya is more cherished than I realize. Surely, that's it.

 

And then, at that moment...

Perhaps I had been staring too much, because she suddenly turned around.

Our eyes met, as if there was a snapping sound.

It was difficult to tell because the brim of her hat cast a shadow over her eyes, but I'm sure our eyes met. Her lips formed a small, yet clear, “ah” shape.

 

“Lady Marianne.”

 

I hoped she wouldn't notice me because if our eyes met, I'd be overjoyed. And if that happened, I'd be irresistibly drawn to her.

---My father's strict orders not to get too close to Ilya were still in effect.

But this time, it couldn't be helped.

We hadn't planned this, we hadn't arranged to meet; we'd just happened to run into each other, so there was no way to avoid it. Therefore, I couldn't help but say hello. ...I rationalized to myself.

 

“Greetings, Lady Ilya,” I said, and she curtsied in response, looking somewhat bewildered.

This was the first time we'd had a proper conversation like this since that argument involving Soleil.

 

Even during the time I was keeping my distance from Ilya, I certainly never forgot about her. I tried to talk to her several times, but then I remembered what Ruby had warned me.

“Even if you apologize, it won't get through to Lady Ilya,” she said.

That doesn't mean that anything I do is useless because Ilya is angry. I understand that much.

What Ruby had told me was that no matter how carefully and thoroughly I explained why I did what I did, Ilya wouldn't believe me.

As long as she mistakenly believes that I approached Soleil with ulterior motives, nothing I say will be accepted.

 

Because I completely trusted Ruby, I thought it best to keep my distance from Ilya and had been restraining myself. It's also true that I hoped we could talk someday.

However...

Ruby, my friend who gave me such sound advice, suddenly left. And then, the sudden tragedy that befell my family broke my heart.

In short, Ilya was pushed to the back of my mind.

 

It's incredibly selfish, and I'm ashamed of myself.

That's how profound the impact of my mother's death had.

 

“Are you shopping?” I asked casually, approaching her, and she nodded.

Our reflections in the shop window made my heart flutter a little.

 

“I came out thinking I'd give my little sister some sweets... but I'm not really up to the latest trends, so I'm not sure what to get...”

I hadn't expected to be able to have a conversation, so I was surprised at how naturally she turned to me.

It would be a shame for the conversation to end like this.

“Your sister...? You have a little sister?”

This was the first I'd heard of it.

Well, maybe there had been some rumor about it at the academy.

But I don't think it was anything particularly noteworthy to talk about.

 

“... ...Yes.”

 

She answered clearly, but there seemed to be an awkward pause.

“?” I took a step forward to get a better look at Ilya's face, but she subtly distanced herself.

It was sad to feel like she was avoiding me. Considering what I'd done, I had no choice but to force myself to accept it.

 

From now on, we probably wouldn't get any closer.

The feeling of exhilaration I'd felt just moments before, like floating in the air, was now fading away.

 

“Is there something you need, Lady Marianne?”

“Ah, yes, yes.”

I nodded repeatedly, relieved that the distance between us hadn't widened.

 

“Lady Ilya, you may not know this, but my father has remarried.”

“No, I know.”

 

She seems uninterested in other people, yet she's apparently well-informed about current events. Impressive.

This meant she must have heard about the embarrassing news concerning my family, and I felt both ashamed and awkward.

 

Cynthia is my uncle's wife, and Wilheim is not an illegitimate child. Yet, in the eyes of the world, Cynthia is merely a stepmother who entered our household after my mother's death, and Wilheim is an illegitimate child.

Their situation was far more difficult than I had imagined.

However,

 

“I came all this way because I wanted to bring a gift for my stepmother.”

 

I realize there's nothing to be ashamed of. Cynthia is truly a good person.

I felt that way when we first met, but since we started living together, I've been even more impressed by her honesty and dedication.

 

On her deathbed, my mother spoke of the gardener she had brought in.

I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for him to work as a servant in the upper class, but at the very least, life at the Earl's household must have been difficult.

Enough to run away.

The friction with the other servants could easily be dismissed as mere harassment, but strictly speaking, there was indeed a hierarchy among them. Not in terms of their roles, but in terms of the rank of the household they served.

Working for an Earl's household was prestigious in itself, so it was understandable that he, coming from a lower-ranking household, was viewed with suspicion.

 

That’s why it's understandable that the servants, who judge people by their social class, couldn't get along with Cynthia, who came from the common people to become their mistress.

 

...It's understandable, but... I couldn't just leave it alone, so I intervened.

But they didn't compromise... of course. The more I sided with her, the deeper the conflict became.

Here again, I was reminded of the limitations of my own influence.

It wasn't as simple as saying everything would be solved if I sided with Cynthia and Wilheim.

 

“...For your stepmother...? Is that so?’

Ilya, clearly surprised, gently covered her mouth.

She immediately uttered an apology, but I shook my head.

“That's right. It's strange, isn't it, since there's no blood relation,” I replied, realizing how rumors can easily be exaggerated.

Cynthia had, before I knew it, become the wicked woman who was trying to take over my household.

 

“...Since Lady Marianne is so concerned about her, she must be a wonderful person.”

 

Ilya's kind words lifted my spirits.

My heavy, sinking heart suddenly felt lighter.

 

 

 Chapter 70

 

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 71