Chapter 72

 9 – Marianne’s Truth – 11

 

To tell the truth, I’ve always thought that.

 

I was sure my mother would handle everything skillfully and efficiently.

Even though I knew I couldn't be like her, and that I didn't need to be, I still found myself involved in Cynthia and Wilheim's affairs.

 

My father scolded me for this.

He told me not to get too deeply involved.

 

You will leave this house someday. If you get too involved with them, they will start to slack off. They'll think that Marianne will take care of anything that happens.

If that's the case, what will happen to those two after you get married?

 

Two people with no power left behind in this mansion. They will probably be in difficult positions.

 

You must live with an eye toward the years—or even decades—to come. Even if your life were to end tomorrow. That is the duty of a noble.

 

To others, my father might appear to be a cold man. Yet, he was, after all, the lord of a domain and the master of our house. He always viewed matters from a slight distance, taking in the broader picture. That was something I still found difficult to do.

 

“I am certain your feelings will reach her, Lady Marianne. Blood ties... perhaps they don't matter after all,” Irya said with a smile, doing her utmost to stand by my side. Yet, her expression remained somewhat stiff.

“Lady Irya, if you are looking for sweets, I have a recommendation.”

She must care deeply for her younger sister. She wore a troubled look because she couldn’t decide on a gift.

Besides, she was likely unaccustomed to walking through the city. She seemed restless and ill at ease, as if she couldn’t quite settle down.

And that was only natural.

It was certainly difficult to picture Irya—as I knew her at the academy—actually enjoying a shopping trip. She always walked as if pressed for time, rushing from one class to the next. I never even saw her in the cafeteria during lunch breaks.

 

Come to think of it, I wondered where she’s been eating.

Could it be... that she hadn't been eating at all?

 

It hit me just how little I knew about Irya. Even though we were face-to-face like this, unlike me, she wasn't the least bit giddy or excited.

 

“Something you'd recommend? I would certainly appreciate your advice.”

 

For a fleeting moment, her expression seemed to light up with a radiant glow. It instantly made my heart ache—a strange reaction, considering we were both women.

―――――So, she can look like that, too...

 

“Does your sister have a particular preference?”

“A preference...?”

I found myself lost in thought again. Even within a family, it is only natural not to know another person's preferences.

I suggested we start by taking a walk around, and Irya walked right alongside me.

Perhaps it wasn't ideal to be seen together like this—looking, at a glance, like we are close. But we were no longer children.

My father once told me, “People might suspect that our family and the Mathis family are colluding and using our children to hatch some sort of scheme.”

But the political landscape has shifted significantly since then. Even if we were seen together now, few would likely view it with suspicion. ———That was the excuse I desperately told myself.

Perhaps I might even be able to build a relationship like the one my mother shared with Madame Mathis.

 

“My younger sister is rather frail, you see, so Mother brews a special tea for her health.”

“My, how kind of her.”

The words came straight from the heart, moved by the sentiment.

“…Yes. Um… well. My sister finds the tea bitter… so she doesn't like it very much. I thought that perhaps having some tea snacks might make it a little easier to drink…”

As Ilya explained this somewhat hesitantly, a breath of admiration escaped me: “That’s wonderful.”

“Wonderful?”

She tilted her head, looking puzzled.

“Oh, no. It’s nothing.”

 

I shook my head, yet I could not stop admiring Irya in my heart.

It wasn't just that she had ventured into town for her younger sister's sake; I was deeply moved by the sheer thoughtfulness behind the gift itself.

After all, if the tea was too bitter to drink, one could simply prepare something sweet to go with it. That is certainly what I would do. Jam or sugar would suffice; a maid would surely bring them if asked.

 

Perhaps Ilya’s younger sister had a shy nature? She might even be drinking her tea while holding back her true feelings. Seeing her sister like that, did Ilya decide to prepare some sweets for her?

They seem like a close-knit pair of sisters—almost enough to make one envious.

How delighted her sister will be when she receives those sweets from Ilya.

 

She was bound to be adorable—just like Ilya.

 

“Please, come this way.”

As I guide the way, I stole glances at her profile.

I recalled the day at the academy library when she rebuffed me, saying there was no need for us to become close. Back then, all I could do was watch her walk away.

Today was different; I was walking right beside her, engaged in casual conversation. Young nobles of the same generation talking to one another shouldn't be anything out of the ordinary.

 

And yet, it felt so incredibly special.

 

Our relationship has changed since those days, and in the recent academic proficiency test, Irya finally surpassed my ranking.

She didn’t seem to be close with any of the upperclassmen, so it’s unlikely she received any advice on the exam from anyone.

It was simply the result of her own tireless effort and study.

 

She was truly amazing.

 

“So, a shop like this is tucked away in a place like this...”

Ilya looked around, clearly impressed.

The confectionery shop that has recently become the talk of the town was located deep within a back alley. Naturally, it was not the sort of place one would visit alone. Today, however, I had a bodyguard with me, so I felt at ease. That said, my bodyguard has likely gone ahead to ask the proprietor to prepare the sweets; we needed only pick them up at the storefront.

As it happened, the shop's owner was a confectioner who regularly supplied our household.

 

“What is your sister's name?”

“...It's Sylvia.”

“I see. Does Lady Sylvia have a hearty appetite?”

“No, she has a rather small appetite. That is why I worry...”

“This shop always prepares extra portions; why not take some home with you? If it’s a flavor she likes, perhaps she’d be able to eat a little?”

“...Do you think so?”

For some reason, she glanced briefly at her bodyguard, looking hesitant. It was clear just how deeply she cared for her sister and how much thought she put into her well-being.

 

I had never met the girl, yet I was certain she adored Ilya. After all, she cared so deeply about her younger sister; it would be strange if she weren't liked in return.

 

We soon arrived at the confectionery shop and met up with the guard, who was already holding a bag of baked goods. Since he was carrying my share, I handed over Ilya’s portion.

It was convenient to handle the errand without even stepping inside, yet it was a bit of a shame not to be able to take my time browsing the wide variety of sweets on display.

However, I didn't have much time. After all, I hadn't told anyone at home that I would be making a detour on my way back from the academy.

The guard had looked displeased when I decided to get out of the carriage for this stop, and the fact that he still seemed to want to say something now was surely because he was anxious.

After all, I wasn't the one who would be reprimanded for acting on a whim.

 

“Um, Lady Marianne...”

She offered to send a check later to cover the cost of the sweets, but I politely declined. I also told her, “There is no need for a thank-you note, either.” I was reminded of my mother’s words: that a letter remains as a permanent record.

“If the opportunity arises, please let me know what you thought of the sweets,” I said.

“...”

She looked at me, seemingly wanting to say something more.

“Is something the matter?” I asked.

“Actually... I made a blunder at a tea party the other day...”

“A tea party?”

“Yes. Lord Soleil was there, and my younger sister was present as well. I committed a bit of a... no, a rather major blunder. So... I thought I would give Sylvia a gift. It wasn't a lie when I said I was looking for sweets that would go well with tea, but...” Ilya confessed the truth, looking awkward yet sincere. She was refreshingly honest.

 

I hope that innocent, delicate heart of hers remains unhurt.

 

“Is that so? Then I suppose I may consider myself to have been of some help?” I asked and she nodded vigorously. “Yes! Absolutely.”

 

It made me happy.

 

And so, after seeing off Ilya as she expressed her gratitude, we parted ways.

“You looked happy, My Lady.”

As we walked toward the carriage where we had kept the driver waiting, my usually reticent bodyguard went out of his way to make that observation; I touched my cheek, wondering if it had really been so obvious on my face.

 

“You always seem, somehow...”

“Somehow?”

“Bo-... hum, like you are not not having any fun.”

“Were you about to say I looked bored?”

“Well, yes.”

“I see.”

“Yes.”

“Is that so...?”

“Yes.”

 

Afterward, I moved to another location with my guards and selected a shawl to give to Cynthia.

 

Upon returning to the estate, I immediately visited Cynthia and handed her the velvet shawl. She was deeply moved, telling me, “I used to gaze at it through the shop window all the time.” She then clenched her fist with renewed determination, declaring, “I’ll work even harder!”

Was it because she was born among the common folk that she possessed such a spirited nature?

Wilhelm, who had been watching our exchange, pouted and asked, “Sister, what about me?” I clapped my hands in realization—he was right—but he slumped his shoulders, muttering, “After all, I’m the younger brother who came along later...”

As Wilhelm implied, there is likely a fundamental difference between being together from the moment a younger sibling is born and coming to spend time together only after they have already grown somewhat. I reflected on the possibility that I had been lacking in thoughtfulness.

It was as if my eyes had been opened to a new realization.

 

It was right around that time.

 

Rumors began to circulate that Soleil was a frequent visitor to Ilya’s estate.

Being the simple soul I was, I drew parallels to my own relationship with Evan and assumed things were going well between them. I thought that even though Ilya had mentioned a blunder at the tea party, she had managed to redeem herself, and the two of them had grown closer.

After all, on that rainy day, I had seen Soleil across the garden, seemingly waiting for Ilya in the corridor.

I believed they were destined to grow ever closer and find happiness together.

 

Yes, that is what I believed.

 

I believed it all along—even without a shred of evidence.

 

 

***

 

And then...

As for whether there was any progress between Ilya and me—there was none.

I was busy with family matters, and Ilya—leaving aside her personal feelings—spared no effort in her role as Soleil’s fiancée; consequently, we simply didn't have the time to grow close.

 

In all likelihood, both I and Ilya would be married the moment we graduated from the academy.

To be honest, that left me with no time to concern myself with others. Although I saw Evan regularly, it was also essential to deepen my ties with his family. The frequency of my visits to his home increased.

I studied the history of his family and memorized their lineage, tracing it back through generations. I learned the names and faces of his relatives and ingrained the customs of my future household into both my mind and body. I had to memorize the faces of the servants as well, while grasping the family's social connections and hierarchy, and paying formal visits to the households with whom they maintained close ties.

 

The seasons flew by in a whirlwind.

 

Before I knew it, the final school year had arrived.

Ilya was the one chosen to play the piano at that year's music appreciation concert.

I had performed the role several times in a row, but this time, I wasn't asked. It was actually a relief, as I had felt I was no longer up to the task technically. The teachers praised me for gracefully stepping aside, so I was content with the outcome.

I never told anyone, though, just how relieved I was to be free of the responsibility.

 

And so...

I listened to her performance from the audience. It was, in a word, magnificent. Surely, no one else could have surpassed her playing.

As the performance concluded, the hall fell silent; the audience was so deeply moved that they momentarily forgot even to applaud.

Then came the wave of cheers and applause, rising just a beat later.

Even the young nobles—accustomed to hearing the music of world-renowned performers—were flushed with excitement. It was a sight that delighted even me.

 

Soleil, who had already graduated from the academy and was beginning to make a name for himself as a knight, had evidently been invited as well; he sat in the VIP section, looking proud. Beside him sat his parents, who were beaming and applauding with exaggerated enthusiasm.

 

“Lady Marianne?”

 

At the sound of the voice, I turned to look at the friend sitting next to me.

 

“Are you crying?”

 

It was only when asked that I realized tears were streaming down my cheeks.

Seeing Ilya smile amidst the whirlwind of thunderous applause made my chest tighten even more.

Of course, it wasn't the first time I had seen her smile. I had always seen that perfect smile—one that seemed slightly bashful, yet also like a mask fixed in place. It revealed the pride she held as an aristocrat. She endured even when faced with words of scorn. No matter how many times she fell, she would rise again and press forward.

I had even looked up to her for that very strength.

 

She had achieved it all on her own.

 

I could grasp just how magnificent and worthy of pride that was—even I, born into a count's family, could understand.

Knowing she was the fiancée of a marquis's heir, I could also imagine just how grueling her life must have been until now. That was why it deserved nothing but praise.

And yet...

What was this hollow feeling washing over me?

 

I watched from afar as she stepped down from the stage after her performance, with several students gathering around to offer their praise.

If only I were a friend of Ilya’s...

I could join them and say just a word—tell her how wonderful it was.

 

But I had no right to do that.

I chose a treat for her younger sister just that one time; that was all I ever managed to do for her.

 

Because of the impression I formed in my childhood, I convinced myself that she needed help.

That someone had to be by her side, to support her, to take her hand.

And I convinced myself... that someone was me.

 

But...

...It wasn't me.

 

Not once was I the one she chose.

 

It was a wall I had repeatedly tried to cross—yet, for various reasons, deliberately chose not to. Ilya likely didn't even know the wall existed; she probably hadn't even acknowledged it.

To Ilya, I was just one person among the masses.

One of the faceless crowd, indistinguishable from the rest.

Realizing this, I found myself unable to fully rejoice on a day that ought to be happy. I was disappointed in myself for harboring such petty feelings.

 

Ilya was fine.

She was perfectly fine, even on her own.

 

What should I do? I ought to be happy for her.

But I felt sad.

 

Why?

 

“Lady Marianne? Why are you crying?”

 

I didn't want anyone to see me like this.

“I was so moved that I couldn't help but cry,” I said with a smile, covering up my true feelings.

I skillfully hid my real emotions deep within my heart.

 

“It is not a bad thing to keep your true intentions locked away deep inside so that no one else knows them. In fact, you should keep the things that are truly precious to you buried deep in your heart, where no one can see them.”

 

My mother's words echoed in my mind.

 

 

Chapter 71