Still Just "Lady Levantia"
Curtains let morning sunlight slip through, tickling my eyelids.
"My lady, it's time to wake up."
A familiar voice. Soft yet firm—Helen's.
"...Just five more minutes."
"You said the same thing yesterday."
Even to me, the count's daughter, she pointed it out so sharply. I pulled the covers over my head, pretending not to hear, but Helen simply ignored my antics and yanked the blanket away.
"Please get up."
Dazed, I looked around. The curtains were already drawn, and another maid had prepared my toner.
No helping it. Helen was always so diligent.
"My lady, this afternoon we have a tea party at the Cillon Marquis household..."
"I know, Helen."
She was reciting my schedule for the day, which I already knew. Unthinkingly, I puffed out my cheeks.
Another tea party.
Spring was the social season. I'd endured it so many times, I knew it all too well.
But the endless parade of tea parties since last month made my head throb. From the moment I stepped down from the carriage, every word, every smile—it was all exhausting, demanding perfect attention. Who could possibly enjoy this?
"Still, Helen, this has no end."
I puffed my cheeks as I climbed out of bed. But Helen just smiled softly at my childish display.
"You've changed, though, my lady."
"...?"
"You never used to complain like that."
"Hmm..."
Was that true?
Before, I swallowed any dissatisfaction.
Always smiling, pretending to be perfect—that was all I'd ever learned.
Suddenly, a man came to mind.
A shabby alley.
The counselor whose place didn't even have a cup for water until I gifted him one.
Thinking of him soured my mood for no reason.
Lately, I called him Teacher. The first time I'd used that title since my childhood tutor.
I called him that myself, yet all I got back was the same stiff formality.
'Must be because of the tea leaves Lady Levantia brought.''Must be because of the teacup Lady Levantia brought.''Must be because Lady Levantia brewed it herself.'
"Hmph."
A short laugh slipped out unbidden. But recalling it again left me uneasy.
How long did I have to be Lady Levantia?
I already heard it endlessly in society. Now from him too?
I called him Teacher—shouldn't Chloe be fine, or at least Lady Chloe?
"...Helen."
"Yes?"
I sat at the vanity, asking casually.
"Say someone wanted to be called by their first name instead of their family title. Any idea how?"
"...By their first name?"
"Like, turning 'Lady Levantia' into 'Miss Chloe' or 'Lady Chloe'..."
In the mirror, I saw Helen's expression—her usual impassive face, but with a hint of amusement.
To avoid misunderstanding, I clarified.
"This is purely about navigating society. I'm not perfect yet."
"..."
Helen brushed my hair calmly, gazing at me through the mirror.
Her eyes said she knew everything.
Poking at that nagging corner of my heart, I looked away.
Thankfully, Helen didn't pry. Her brushing just grew gentler.
"In general, you'd simply ask. 'Teacher, feel free to call me casually.'"
"..."
Seeing her mimic my tone irked me.
She used to be stiffer. When did she get like this?
Ah, around when she recommended that counseling office.
I turned from the pricking feeling, pondering her words.
Ask first, huh.
That felt...
"That seems too much."
Me saying it first would be awkward in so many ways.
No—it was about the Levantia count family's dignity. Nothing to do with my feelings.
But I just fidgeted my lips, saying nothing until I was ready to go out.
My ears reddening in the mirror...
'Must be the morning sun.'
The carriage stopped in the shabby alley.
Inside, Helen watched me.
"My lady, to make the tea party, you need to be nearby early..."
"I know. But I have to check if the tea leaves I gifted last time are stored properly."
"..."
"They're locked up, but tea leaves hate moisture. What if mold grows? He doesn't seem the type to care."
"My lady, it's only been two days."
"Two days is plenty."
"They don't mold in two days this season."
"...They might."
I dug in my heels, and Helen didn't argue. Just a sigh replaced by a smile.
I knew what that smile meant, but pretended not to as I opened the door.
Slightly late morning.
The small sign reading Isaac Psychology Counseling Office hung here, the street empty.
Everyone knew he only took three clients a day. By now, he'd be closed.
But I was different.
I'd given expensive teacups, rare tea leaves.
Above all, I was the only one who'd booked three sessions in a row here.
No one else had managed that.
That deserved special treatment... or at least something extra, right?
Buoyed by righteous confidence, I stood before the door.
Ignoring the placard boldly proclaiming
CLOSED FOR TODAY
Ding-a-ling—
I opened the door and stepped in.
Familiar sofa. Familiar desk.
On the desk sat the teacup set I'd gifted, next to a locked box stamped with the Levantia seal, standing guard.
'Hmph... looks like no one's used it.'
As I scanned the room, he looked up from scribbling in his notebook behind the desk.
"Ah, Lady Levantia. You're here?"
...Lady Levantia again.
I'm calling you Teacher.
Didn't it occur to you to try my name by now?
A flicker of annoyance rose, but I kept it off my face.
I smiled demurely as usual and headed to the sofa.
"Counselor... no, Teacher seems free today."
Softly, naturally. I walked slowly and sat opposite him.
Or tried to.
As I moved to sit, he shot up, looking troubled.
"Sorry to say this, but..."
"Hmm?"
"Counseling is closed for today..."
My body froze awkwardly.
Closed?
Even with me here?
After the teacups, the tea leaves, the detailed brewing lessons, and me being his only three-session client?
I barely stopped my lips from pouting.
Showing disappointment would mean losing. The proud daughter of House Levantia couldn't sulk over missing one session.
I smiled lightly.
"Not even for me? Just a quick cup of tea and chat..."
"No."
A sharp refusal, no hesitation.
Pressing further would turn begging.
"I see."
I nodded and turned away, barely holding my smile.
Outside, Helen waited with the carriage door open.
No words, but her face said she expected this.
"Welcome back, my lady."
"..."
I boarded silently.
The door shut, and the carriage slowly headed to the Cillon Marquis residence.
To hide my bruised heart, I stared out the window. From the shabby alley to the city center. From the center to the nobles' estates.
Then Helen spoke quietly.
"He treats everyone the same, no matter who."
"...True."
It was ridiculous.
One phrase, and my heart eased a bit.
Same to all meant he didn't reject me specifically.
I wasn't mad at being turned away, but his consistent attitude softened me anyway.
Ah, right.
I confirmed the tea leaves were safe too.
Didn't open it, but logically, no mold in two days.
I turned my gaze far out the window, slyly puffing my cheeks.
'Next time, go earlier.'
Then I recalled.
His words during sessions.
That soothing voice midway through, dreamy and distant, yet stirring my heart.
'It can't be a lie.'
I heard it clearly.
How he sees me.