Chapter 92: Only One Person
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 92: Only One Person
It was just as the Marchioness bit her lip, seemingly giving up in the face of my unwavering gaze.
“Madam! Then at least let me follow.”
Janet stepped forward from among the servants.
Our Janet certainly loves following people. She must be incredibly loyal to the Marquis.
“How unfamiliar this must all be for you, Madam. You should have someone who has served you before by your side.”
Janet added the words hurriedly, as if determined not to miss this opportunity like I had.
“Young Master Raphael is also very shy. It will be difficult for him to have unfamiliar servants around him.”
The Marchioness closed her eyes tight, as if making her final stand.
“Please, let me take at least one maid.”
Well, if it’s Janet...
I already had a decent grasp of her personality.
“Of course, Mother.”
I curled the corners of my lips upward as if granting a great favor.
“Welcome to Blenheim, Janet.”
The carriage door clicked shut, and a moment later, the horses began to move.
Sitting across from each other in the moving carriage, the Marchioness and I remained silent for a long while.
After staring at me for a moment, the Marchioness lowered the fan that had been half-covering her face.
“You look quite well since you got married.”
What, dropping the formalities the moment we’re alone?
It was a bit grating, but I kept my mouth shut. It wouldn't exactly be proper to speak informally back to someone who was technically my mother.
I had wondered about her uncharacteristically friendly attitude earlier, but as expected, it had all been an act. Then again, it would have been stranger if we actually were close.
“The Grand Duke seems to spend his money quite freely, doesn't he?”
“Indeed. I was dressed so poorly before that the Grand Duke said he couldn't bear to treat even an enemy’s daughter that way, so he’s been looking after me in many ways.”
Hmph.
The Marchioness snorted.
“If you want to blame someone, blame the stingy Marquis. I never had any authority over the household finances to begin with.”
“Why did you come here?”
“Do you think I wanted to come?”
The Marchioness snapped back, her voice laced with irritation.
“If you hadn't caused such a scene, I’d be enjoying my summer vacation in Marchen right now. The Marquis was so furious that we headed back here just a day after arriving in the capital.”
“A scene? Anyone would think I eloped in the middle of the night.”
“You really have changed.”
The Marchioness narrowed her eyes at my deadpan tone.
“I heard you lost your manners after getting married. I suppose the position of Grand Duchess suits you?”
It seemed to gall her that her once-insignificant daughter was now dressed elegantly and acting with such authority.
However, there wasn't any real malice in her tone.
I could roughly guess the dynamic between Annette and the Marchioness.
To the Marchioness, Annette must have been the only person in the house she could treat lightly, caught between the impossibly difficult Ferdin and the temperamental Ladriel.
Her condescending tone was familiar and tinged with sarcasm, yet strangely, there was an underlying sense of camaraderie within it.
It didn't seem like Annette had been particularly afraid of the Marchioness either.
So, I’m asking why you’re really here.
When I stared at her as if demanding the truth, the Marchioness spoke irritably.
“I don’t know. The Marquis told me to get the knights into the Grand Duke’s Castle no matter what, but you blocked that.”
She grumbled that she wouldn't hear the end of it when she returned.
But for someone saying that, her expression looks fine.
Compared to her flustered state outside the carriage earlier, she looked much more relaxed.
I doubted the Marquis had high expectations for his wife anyway.
It was obvious that the Marchioness was far too clumsy to play the part of a spy, and it wasn't as if Raphael, who had only just entered the Academy, could do much of anything.
But the reason he sent Raphael along as well...
Was it to lower my guard?
If Raphael was there, even if the Marchioness was alone, she would need at least one maid to act as a nanny.
The Marquis probably hadn't expected to push all those people into the castle from the start.
Perhaps...
Was the Marquis’s plan a success the moment I let Janet into the castle?
Janet might be a more important figure than I thought.
Just as I was thinking I should tell someone to keep a close eye on her, the Marchioness’s eyes began to sparkle as she looked at me.
“Why... why are you looking at me like that?”
“You have some money, don't you?”
Seeing my grimace, the Marchioness began to make a fuss.
“Do you know how poorly Raphael lived the entire time he was at the Academy because of the Marquis? It’s almost ball season, and he hasn't even been able to get a few decent outfits made.”
She had assumed the dresses in the North would be provincial, but seeing mine, she realized that wasn't the case and began to wheedle.
“Let me get a few made too, alright? In exchange, I’ll make sure to speak well of you to the Marquis.”
This feels like... a friend who comes over to visit and then decides to move in permanently...
Suddenly, I had the feeling that the Marchioness’s stay was going to be very exhausting.
*
I gave the Marchioness and Raphael the small annex to the east.
I couldn't bring someone with such obvious motives into the main castle, and with the delegation arriving soon, it was awkward to give them the guest castle.
Of all days, Cecilia isn't even here...
Fortunately, thanks to Whitley, I didn't have to worry about the minor details of showing them around.
Perhaps because so many things had happened at once, my mind was a mess.
After a light dinner, I went out for an evening stroll with Reta.
“I heard Morina has a huge backlog of orders?”
“It’s thanks to you, Your Highness, for entrusting her with the signs for the lakeside. She’s so busy lately I can hardly see her face.”
It was just as I was passing the white flowerbeds where Nephras was planted, listening to Reta—who only became talkative when it came to her sister—when a brown head of hair sitting with a knight caught my eye.
Raphael?
Driven by curiosity, I moved a little closer.
The boy sitting at the garden table was aimlessly kicking his feet, which barely reached the ground.
The knight with Raphael spotted me and offered a salute.
I couldn't remember his name, but he belonged to the 9th Knight Division and was always with Tiern. He was a man whose rugged appearance left a strong impression, contrasting sharply with Tiern.
Tiern, that brat. Did he pick the most intimidating-looking knight on purpose?
Just then, Raphael sensed someone’s presence and looked back. Upon seeing me, he immediately whipped his head away.
Should I just leave?
I was already tired; I didn't particularly want to deal with a child’s contempt.
I gave the knight a slight nod and was about to turn away when something about Raphael’s back seemed strange.
It was as if he was fidgeting in his seat and stealing glances over his shoulder, looking for all the world like he was desperately holding back the urge to look at me.
What was this?
Sudden curiosity got the better of me, and I approached the table.
“Raphael?”
Even though I was right in front of him, Raphael didn't look up.
“May I sit here?”
Since I was already here, I wanted to try having a conversation.
Had he also ignored Annette as if she didn't exist, just like Ferdin?
Even when I asked again, Raphael only stared intently at his teacup.
The knight and Reta, standing behind us, exchanged awkward glances.
Sigh, forget it. I suppose he’s the Marquis’s son after all, no matter how young he is.
I was about to leave without regret, thinking it was ridiculous for someone to pretend not to hear me like this, when Raphael suddenly grabbed the edge of my sleeve.
“Are you really just going to leave like that?”
Raphael whipped around to face me, his eyes brimming with tears.
What’s wrong with him?
“Sister, you’re too much! Didn't you even miss me?”
As I stared at him, stunned, tears began to spill from his reddened eyes.
“Ra—Raphael? Don't cry.”
I hurriedly took the handkerchief Reta handed me and wiped his eyes.
“I hate you, Sister!”
Despite his words, Raphael gripped my sleeve tightly and wouldn't let go.
“I’m sorry, Raphael. So please, stop crying.”
Wait, were Annette and Raphael actually close?
But earlier, he wouldn't even get out of the carriage and just shut the door.
Feeling bewildered, I spent a long time patting Raphael’s back.
After a while, the twitching of his small, freckled nose gradually subsided.
“Are you done crying?”
The small face looked up at me.
Oh my, look at him.
How could the Marquis have such a lovely son?
Looking closely, his delicate features made him a truly adorable child.
As I gently stroked his curly hair, Raphael suddenly buried his face against my waist.
“I’m still not over being mad.”
His words were so at odds with his actions that I couldn't help but let a small smile tug at my lips.
“Right, right.”
“How could you get married without even telling me?”
It seemed the two of them had been quite close.
His voice, muffled against me, was thick with resentment.
“I’m sorry, Raphael.”
Raphael, who had been rubbing his head against me, pulled away.
“No. I know you didn't have a choice. It was because of Father.”
Raphael spoke sullenly, his face still blotchy from the heat of his tears.
“Still... you could have sent a letter.”
“You’re right. I was very mean. I didn't even think about how Raphael would feel, did I?”
When I agreed with him, he spoke in a petulant voice, as if he had a lot of pent-up grievances.
“I came all this way just to see you, but you didn't even look happy to see me!”
No wonder.
He must have been quite upset because I had been far too indifferent in front of the carriage earlier.
“And you didn't even come to my room to see me!”
I took hold of his face as it threatened to crumble into sorrowful tears once again.
“I’m truly sorry, Raphael. I think I was just scared that you were very angry with me.”
“Don't ever do it again.”
“I won't.”
Watching the boy nod with his small lips pressed firmly together as if granting me forgiveness, I felt a strange sensation.
So Annette did have at least one person who cherished her.
I had thought hers was a life entirely devoid of love.
For some reason, I felt like I might cry too.
Only then did I gently stroke the soft cheek of the now slightly bashful Raphael.