Floral Adornment
A week had passed since the eldest son of the Bayorn family returned to his nest after slaying the Demon King.
With a soft rustle of fabric, a vermilion-haired girl rose from bed without any maid’s assistance. She pushed the curtains aside with her own hands and straightened her clothes and hair without anyone’s help.
Her name was Darin. A young lady whose quiet, gently held smile held a quiet charm.
Setting aside the fact that she was a noblewoman of common birth, Darin was someone for whom consideration toward others had become second nature. That was surely why she commanded the respect of Bayorn’s rough-tempered people.
The weather is nice today, isn’t it?
Since her son Kael’s return, the Viscountess had been rising earlier than usual. Perhaps it was because one of the few people who could soothe her loneliness had come home.
“My lady, did you sleep well?”
No sooner had Darin stepped from the bed than a maid appeared at her side. She had been waiting for the Viscountess to wake so she could greet her.
“Good morning, Emma.”
She answered the maid’s greeting with a bright smile. Emma was not especially young, yet she was a sensitive girl. Being welcomed so warmly—as if reuniting with a long-lost friend—always made her face flush red.
The reason Darin, who disliked being waited upon, had summoned a maid after so long was that today, of all days, she needed to dress up.
It was the victory celebration commemorating her own son’s defeat of the Demon King.
On the very day he returned from the expedition, her son had stormed out looking somewhat upset, yet the mother and son had reconciled the very next day. The thoughtful son had been the first to extend his hand. Though he never told her what had angered him.
Snip, snip.
Emma guided the Viscountess to the vanity and began carefully trimming her hair with small scissors. The sweet-and-sour tangerine scent rising softly from the vermilion hair nearly made her space out, but she had to pull herself together somehow. Her lady wanted to see the young master even a little sooner.
“…Does it smell that strong?”
“Ah, no! It’s just that I like it so much—wait, I mean, not that I like it!”
Clearly her lady had noticed the maid’s reaction. At her mistress’s flushed question, Emma hurriedly tried to deny it, yet unfortunately unnecessary extras slipped out. If she said she liked it, wouldn’t that make her sound like some kind of pervert?
Unlike the flustered girl, Darin merely offered a gentle smile. It reminded her of her own daughter Piel. Come to think of it, they were about the same age.
“Please understand a little. Kael was throwing a tantrum about wanting to smell his mother’s perfume.”
“Young Master Kael?”
“Yes. Kael has always liked my scent since he was little. Do you know what the first thing he said was the moment he returned from the subjugation? He got angry asking why Mother’s scent wasn’t there. Scent or whatever—I don’t even know…”
“So that’s why you haven’t been washing in the mornings lately?”
“Ahem. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but if my son wants it that much, I’ll have to settle for once a day.”
Even now he was a child who would suddenly press close to his mother whenever he got the chance.
His massive build and the fact that he was a fully grown man often left her flustered, yet if it was to reminisce about the old days, Darin was willing to allow him by her side. She was still bothered by how Kael had slammed the door and left recently.
“Come to think of it, Young Master Kael seems to have an enormous attachment to you, my lady.”
Emma gazed at her mistress with a look of admiration. Even for a biological child, it was enviable to have such a sturdy, handsome young man bestowing infinite affection. The respect for the Viscountess who had raised such an excellent hero was a bonus.
Still, does one usually obsess over a parent’s body scent? Well, the lady’s scent is so sweet…
To a third party like Emma it seemed excessive and raised questions, yet there was no need to dig deeper. She was merely a commoner. There was no need for excessive curiosity about noble society. No matter how much the Viscountess favored her, if she overstepped, the vassals of Bayorn would not stand for it.
“Today is finally the investiture ceremony, isn’t it?”
Unlike the seemingly carefree Darin, Emma seemed a bit excited. Even while helping with her lady’s adornment, she would not stop talking.
“What are you so happy about, Emma? Anyone watching would think you were the one attending the investiture.”
“But dressing up a beautiful lady like you is something a maid truly looks forward to. You always wear such simple clothes normally.”
“Ah, lady? Isn’t ‘lady’ something for a fresh young woman like you, Emma?”
“What are you saying! You’re far more beautiful than I am. I’ve only been here five years so I don’t know you in your youth, but the chief butler said that since coming of age, your appearance hasn’t changed at all.”
“Just flattery. Why would the chief butler insult the master he serves?”
“I don’t think so. Just looking at your reflection in the mirror, you’re as lovely as a young girl.”
Indeed it was so.
The white skin and flesh not covered by the dress were pale and soft beyond measure.
The figure clad in a dress embroidered with black stripes on a white base was truly beautiful.
And the chest ornament and hairpin symbolizing the Bayorn family fit her as if they had been made for her from the very start.
“The young master has excellent taste.”
This dress, imbued with both splendor and neatness, had been chosen personally by her son Kael. Even Darin, who had little interest in adornment, smiled at her biological son’s attention. She could wear anything casually, yet if it was her son’s request, there was no reason not to wear it.
“Kael and the people of Bayorn are all too infatuated with me.”
The vermilion-haired girl puffed out her cheeks in frustration without realizing it. It was a childish gesture unsuited to her age. Yet since her appearance was no different from a teenage girl, it did not look out of place. Even Emma, who had just come of age, felt as if she were looking at a younger sister when facing the Viscountess’s face in the mirror.
I think I understand why the Viscount of Bayorn is so head over heels for my lady.
The Viscount of Bayorn had supposedly carried his partner around tightly wherever he went even before she reached the minimum marriageable age of fourteen. When she was very young, he fretted she might get hurt.
The Viscount’s affection was no lie. Even now, except when he left the castle, he would tear the place apart with eyes blazing asking where his Darin was, so what more was there to say about the degree of attachment.
And I think I understand why my lady feels resentment toward the Viscount of Bayorn as well.
When she turned fourteen, the man’s lust, once the reins were loosed, had exploded. The intense moments of passion had left trauma on the young girl. In the past the Viscountess had even suffered from the delusion that she was a man, so it must have been even harder.
Being kidnapped at the ignorant age of seven, and then at fourteen being pounced on by a giant two heads taller than her—whether the intent was affection or not—would be hard to endure. From the start, the Viscountess had not even seen the Viscount as a man.
But if there was a woman they liked, taking her by force was an old tradition of the Bayorn barbarians, was it not? Even the lord was no different.
Still, it’s fortunate that the Viscountess has such an upright character.
She had some rough edges that were not particularly feminine, and rather than a noble she felt like a commoner striving to become a “noble,” yet unlike selfish noblewomen she was a saint who took caring for others as a given. Seeing that her character had not twisted even after such hard times, she had a sturdy side as well.
This woman never hesitated to bestow kindness on those beneath her, no matter who they were. Thanks to the “oranges that restore stamina” she developed, the territory had grown wealthy. And with education of unknown origin, she had raised the knowledge level of the barbarians who were looked down upon by other regions.
Thus all the people of the territory, including Emma, truly respected and cherished the Queen of the Orange Trees. When the time came to die, they would lay down their lives not for the Northern Duke or the Emperor of the Empire, but for this small vermilion-haired girl.
Infatuated. Emma did not entirely deny those words. She herself had truly fallen under this woman’s spell. But any citizen of Bayorn would be the same. Though when it came to beauty, it really was not just that.
She was a girl who had dreamed since childhood of becoming a maid who stayed by the side of the Viscountess she respected. How could one express that loyalty in words?
The maid responded to her mistress’s complaints with short conversation as she created an elaborate hairstyle. Braiding the hair this way and that in appropriate places and neatly sweeping it back, the figure was so beautiful it made one’s pupils ache.
“Are you really okay with just this much? Decorating your nails with Cure, or at least wearing a necklace or earrings…”
Even so, Darin raised one hand to prevent excessive adornment, so Emma expressed her regret at not being able to decorate more. Her husband the Viscount of Bayorn and her son the young master had gifted enough jewels to pile up in heaps, yet she did not wear them, which was hard to understand. Especially on an important day like today.
“What’s the point of standing out in the Imperial Capital? Of course, no one would pay attention to some middle-aged woman from a provincial territory like this…”
Kael’s advice that men would hit on her regardless of age was circling in Darin’s mind. She had brushed it off lightly then, yet if such a situation actually arose, she would probably be flustered. So it would not hurt to prepare.
“And it might be better if no one recognizes me.”
Unlike last week when she had boldly declared she wanted to go, she seemed to have worries rising unconsciously. Thinking about it, her son’s suggestion of going in a mask seemed correct.
Her family was a nameless commoner household. Only in this small provincial territory could she play at being a noblewoman. She wondered if she could conduct herself properly before the “real nobles” in the capital. If she had attended social gatherings several times she would not need to worry, but even that had been banned long ago by her husband because of the men who had pestered her.
“I’ll just celebrate Kael’s victory ceremony and come right back.”
Additionally, having a short conversation with the Hero as well. When otherworlders talked about their past lives, people just treated it as a joke or thought they were crazy weird women. She could understand that position, yet if there was a comrade, it would be a great comfort.
When she arrived at the victory celebration, she would just act like a moderately introverted person and brush off shallow interest with a smile. As Kael advised, she would stick close to her son.
Emma immediately chattered with her tiny mouth about how pretty she looked and how it was a waste, expressing regret. But as this repeated, cold sweat quietly rose on Darin.
This is hard. When will the adornment ever end?
Was it the influence of having been a man in her past life? Whether women her age or young girls, long conversations drained her. Her husband drained her in a different sense. The only place she could feel comfort was by her children’s side.
After some time passed, the body adornment for the victory celebration was finished. How would she compare to the nobles in the Imperial Capital? Surely she would be at a pathetic level.
If she had at least met the wives of the warlords in the provinces she could have broadened her horizons, but the Viscount always dissuaded his wife from going out, roaring “I can’t stand anything dirty touching you,” so from Darin’s position there was nothing she could do.
He’s being so clingy.
She was cursing him inside, yet recalling her husband’s fussiness after being away for three months, a faint smile formed.
Click.
“My lady, I have come to escort you.”
Opening the door and going out, she was greeted by the chief butler Alred. No matter how old he got, he was so reliable. Unlike when she first came here, his hair had turned gray, yet it was fortunate he still seemed healthy.
“Thank you.”
Considering the difference in status, she could speak casually, yet Darin could never drop formal speech with someone older than her. It was because of memories of the Confucian society in her past life. She was used to it and found it comfortable.
Alred always maintained the same robotic smile and disciplined attitude, yet Darin knew very well how considerate that old man was.
When she was young and suffered rape under the name of marital relations from her husband, how great a comfort had he been? The Viscountess gave the old butler a grateful eye greeting, then walked the corridor under his guidance.
Hmm…?
Before long, a massive figure with pure white hair entered her view. They had clearly planned to meet at the carriage, so why was her son standing in the central hall?
“Kael? Why are you here?”
Wondering what was going on, she asked like this.
“I wanted to see Mother even a little sooner.”
“Why not wait at the door?”
“I should at least give the lady time to dress up.”
Whether she felt proud of her son expressing affection, the mother’s ears turned red. It was a remark that could be unpleasant if said by another, yet coming from her flawless blood relative, it was just pleasing. Even his massive physique was gradually becoming familiar and felt tall and handsome.
Grip.
Before she knew it, Kael’s massive hand had swallowed his mother’s tiny hand. Darin was a bit awkward at first, yet not wanting to disappoint her son who smiled as if nothing was wrong, she offered no resistance.
It’s a bit flustering, but it feels reassuring and nice. Is this why everyone doted on sons?
He still had not told her the reason he got angry and stormed out when she burst into laughter in the annex recently, yet whenever she faced her son’s devotion toward her, she quickly regained comfort and familiarity.
Comparing her son when he was much smaller than her to his now fully grown form, a feeling so wistful it took her breath away began to rise.
Wiggle, wiggle. With her confined fingers she gently scratched his thick palm full of affection as she slowly walked out toward the carriage.