Not Yet That Gentleman
From then on, Adrian looked Nina straight in the eye. Whenever she met that gaze, she answered it with a wide grin.
At some point he began to smile back. It was an elegant, aristocratic smile. The shadow had not entirely left his eyes, but that was all right.
What did the original say, again?
Nina dropped onto the low stool she had long since grown used to, knees splayed, and scraped potato peels in brisk strokes. According to Fiona, the heroine of the original novel, Adrian was like this.
The Duke of Rubuaene was a perfect gentleman, so much so that his infamy seemed undeserved. An elegant smile, a gentle manner of speaking, an aristocratic bearing without a single wasted gesture.
A voice in which one felt unhurried ease.
Yet behind that perfect smile and that delicate care, Fiona sensed a cold fury. She sensed hatred.
That was why she could not bring herself to like the Duke of Rubuaene at all.
But our Young Master had not come anywhere near that yet!
Nina tossed the last smooth potato into the water with a soft plop, hefted the tub, and stood. Back in the kitchen she set the potatoes down, and the older girls were already murmuring among themselves.
"They called the jeweler in again, I hear?"
"They did. This time she bought a necklace of moonlight pearls from northern Badun Island."
"Heavens, moonlight pearls. Just hearing it is enough to make your head spin."
"One bead of that, and we'd eat for the rest of our lives."
"And it seems she's hired a new sword instructor for Young Master Gerald, too."
The two of them noticed Nina.
"All peeled? Good work. There ought to be bread left in the cupboard."
"Thank you."
Nina bobbed her head to the older girls and snatched the bread from the cupboard at once. The one good thing about being a kitchen drudge was that you did not starve. Whatever the ducal family left over belonged to them, and the other servants were reasonably kind to the kitchen maids, if only so they might get something to eat themselves.
She tucked the bread against her chest and set off toward Adrian.
In the space of that single year, his treatment had grown harsher still. The Duke no longer even invited him to the family meals—or rather, it was less that the Duke withheld the invitation than that the Duchess would not let him come to the table. When Adrian failed to appear, the Duke had asked after him.
"And Adrian?"
"I imagine dining with us makes him uncomfortable," the Duchess answered, and that was the end of it.
What is he even thinking?
Nina wanted to split the Duke's head open and see what was inside. Acknowledging a bastard was no small matter. He had granted that all-important recognition, and then the man himself simply left the boy to rot. He had married again, too, and gained new heirs besides. By now it would have been easier on everyone if he had simply put the succession in order, but he would not do even that. From the other maids she had heard that he was as uncaring toward the other young masters as he was toward Adrian.
Perhaps that, more than anything, was what stoked the Duchess's fury. Of course the Duke was indifferent to his wife as well. He never interfered in how she ran the house, nor in how she handled its money and its people.
Adrian had told her that the Duke called him to his private chamber only once.
"Your mother is dead."
That was all he said.
It was a mercy there were still people around Adrian then...
Until the Duke married the Duchess, Adrian had been the manor's only young master, and they said he had been treasured.
Though that, too, is only something I heard.
At any rate, thanks to the Duke's attitude, Adrian's situation only worsened. As if driving him from the table had not been enough, the Duchess meddled even in the food that reached him.
"Adrian does not dine with us, so there is no need to prepare anything separately for him."
After she said as much to the cook, he was portioned the servants' meals. Everyone was too busy watching the Duchess's mood to carry food to him, so Nina smuggled it in, little by little and in secret.
It became only natural that no money was set aside for his necessities. If not for the things the kitchen drudge ferried in like a mouse, Adrian's life would have been harder still.
"Young Master."
Adrian had been reading an old book in his room. He looked up. Nina drew the bread from her arms and broke it cleanly in two.
"This half is yours, Young Master."
He reached out and traded her piece, mostly hard crust, for his own, which was at least a little soft.
"This is enough for me."
"It's hard."
"I'm older, so I'm tougher."
He said it with a small smile and closed the book.
Inside the manor he was ignored as if he did not exist, and because of that he could go anywhere in it—so long as he did not cross paths with the Duchess, Gerald, or Jayden. The library was a place those three never entered, and Adrian made full use of the privilege. He read like a madman and threw himself into sword practice.
What hurt Nina most was how wretchedly he ate, in the very years when he ought to have been growing. Nibbling a hard crust, she said,
"It seems Her Grace has called the jeweler again. They say she bought a moonlight-pearl necklace. Do you know what that is?"
"A pearl that shines with a soft silver light, I hear. It glimmers faintly at night."
"I see."
Nina's eyes went round. The world was full of astonishing things. She hesitated over what came next, then said it quietly.
"And they're giving the eldest young master a new sword instructor."
"Are they."
Adrian answered with a faint smile. Nina pouted.
"I want to change our sword instructor, too. Every single day..."
She bit her lip. The bruises covering Adrian were that man's doing. He beat the boy constantly under the pretense of instruction, and often he struck him until a bone broke.
"Still better than having none."
Adrian chewed the hard bread and swallowed. Bread and water, with neither butter nor jam.
Someday I'm going to eat soft bread until I can't eat any more.
Nina dreamed of that future all the time. However hard the present was, she had a dream.
Adrian opened the book again and said, quietly,
"Nina, you'd better go. It isn't good if you stay too long."
"All right. I'll come again."
She smiled, took her leave, and went out. Adrian lifted his head. He watched the door she had passed through for a long while, then let out a sigh.
He was afraid of what would happen if the Duchess learned about Nina. Even so, he could not bring himself to tell her it would be better if she stopped coming. With an effort, he turned his eyes back to the book.
It was a rare day off. Nina had nowhere to go, but the kitchen maids were busy dressing themselves up.
"Nina, anything you want us to bring you?"
"No."
Twelve years old now, she still wore her hair in two braids.
"How do I look?"
One of the maids flicked the lace along the hem of her dress, a masterpiece a full year in the making.
"It's really pretty. What if someone proposes to you?"
"Oh, listen to this girl."
The maid burst out laughing, but she was pleased all the same. Another said,
"It's strange. Everything Nina says sounds as if it might actually come true."
"That's because I mean it."
Nina opened her eyes wide, and all of them laughed. Another maid turned to the one in the lace-trimmed dress.
"You never know. Go out dressed like that, and you might catch some lord's eye."
"And what good would that do? Look at that boy."
That boy.
That was what people called Young Master Adrian.
"His mother was an opera singer, wasn't she? A tremendous beauty. They say her dressing room overflowed with gifts and bouquets."
The maid pursed her lips.
"And what did that get her? Look at the state of the child. The Duchess is too cruel. It isn't as if she didn't know he existed. She went into that marriage with her mind already made up."
"Hush. Watch your tongue."
"Ugh. I should have kept my mouth shut."
They shushed her, then turned to Nina.
"Did you hear that?"
"What?"
"You. Mind yourself. For people like us, the moment we fall out of favor with those above, it's over."
"That's right. You'd do better to stop playing with that boy."
"But I like the Young Master."
At Nina's untroubled answer, they gave up the scolding.
"Honestly."
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
So saying, the older girls promised to buy her candy on the way back and went out. They were all good people.
Then the cook, Karin, came in. Finding Nina still in the kitchen, trimming vegetables, she barked,
"Why are you still here?"
"I don't have any money to go out and play."
"Don't mess up my kitchen."
"I'm not."
Nina said it with a perfectly straight face. Karin glanced at the vegetables under her hands.
"Finish those, and there's sweets in the cupboard on the right."
"Oh!"
"Secret from the rest of them."
"Yes."
Her hands sped up. Nina trimmed the vegetables twice as fast as usual and claimed the sweets.