Chapter 47
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 47
She could have been beheaded by now. Daisy looked away from the window, where the falling petals reminded her of severed heads. From now on, the scent of flowers would forever remind her of Merai.
“How is it? Do the children seem to be adjusting well?”
“Yes. I believe so.”
Contrary to Daisy’s worries, the children had blended into the mansion with ease. The staff of the Rohanson mansion still found Evangeline the most difficult person to handle, but perhaps because she was the one who brought them, the children adjusted with exceptional speed.
Yulma, who was good with her hands, had joined the kitchen staff. However, having grown accustomed to preparing meals for many at the orphanage, she was reportedly being scolded for her habit of cooking in massive quantities every time.
Ranon went under the butler’s tutelage. Daisy had always known he was a bright boy who was good with numbers, but she hadn't expected him to catch the butler’s eye so quickly. At first, he was overlooked as just someone Lady Evangeline had brought in, but now, the butler kept him by his side almost constantly.
‘As for Mary...’
Mary was doing very well, acting as if she were Mary Rohanson rather than Mary Gold.
Since there was no work to give such a young child, they had simply let her roam the mansion. Mary had become particularly attached to Melek, who had been imprisoned in the basement with her.
Wanting to earn his keep, Melek had volunteered to be a stable hand. The moment the rowdy horses saw him, they tucked their tails and became obedient, which made him a very welcome addition. Mary was given the task of feeding carrots to the horses by his side.
As Lady Evangeline promised, the mansion would gradually fill with more people once the children the Director had sold were all brought back.
“Are you satisfied?”
At Evangeline’s question, Daisy nodded.
When she had fled the mansion in terror, she never thought she would ever return.
“Very much so.”
Nor had she expected to feel so peaceful while gazing at the fibrous, web-like membranes stretched across the walls and the eyes that sprouted from them.
*
What a perfect day to die… I feel like I should be taking a long, cool drag from a cigarette.
My whole body felt lethargic; I just wanted to lie down and let Canna feed me grapes.
Normally, there would be no problem with me lazing around like a jobless bum, but this was the only leisure time I could enjoy at the moment.
Ever since Gabriel suggested we attend the banquet together, it felt like I needed ten clones of myself just to get through the day.
That damn debutante ball was the problem.
Forget being a socialite—Evangeline hadn't even had her debut. There was a mountain of preparations to climb before she could officially attend any balls or banquets.
“The Young Lady was so frail, she couldn't even have her debut.”
Daisy claimed Evangeline had been too weak to enter society, but seeing as she’d had plenty of energy to torment others, it was more likely the Count had forbidden it, fearing she would act like a villainess in public.
When I sent a telegram to the Count announcing my debut, he replied that since I wouldn't listen if he tried to stop me, I should do as I pleased—but he begged me to please act normally.
Along with the reply, he sent a fleet of tutors. It seemed he realized I had amnesia and wanted to re-educate me.
But there were just too many of them… Etiquette, dance, painting, riding, embroidery—I had no idea why I was even learning poetry. There were six tutors summoned in total. At least I was glad they weren't trying to teach me history.
Not that the tutors were of much help.
The poetry tutor, perhaps because he was a man of literature, was overly sentimental. He left behind a single poetic metaphor—calling the Rohanson mansion “a fragment of hell sprouted upon the earth, a pandemonium where demons frolic”—and submitted his resignation before ever stepping past the front gate. Simply put, he got scared of Evangeline’s reputation and bolted.
The embroidery tutor fainted after wailing and begging me not to take her head when I accidentally pricked my own finger with a needle. For the record, my embroidery skills were judged as “impossible to improve.”
As for horse riding, there was no need to learn. The horses listened to me so well that after just one day, the instructor told me there was nothing left to teach and I should “descend the mountain.”
When the painting tutor asked if there was a studio, I led him to the storage room next door. He seemed a bit frightened, perhaps because the room was gloomy. When he asked to see my work, I pulled back all the cloths—even though I wasn't the one who had painted them—and he fled in horror.
Well, it was understandable. Everything Evangeline had painted was of the same person.
Seeing the same woman staring straight ahead from the same angle in every painting was somehow chilling. It felt like her eyes might move, like in a horror movie. She looked somewhat familiar, but who was she?
“Do you know who this is?”
“It’s likely the late Madam.”
I suddenly broke into a cold sweat. I’d almost made a slip of the tongue. Looking again, I saw it wasn't a scene from a horror movie, but from a drama. Evangeline had created genuine art. The woman must have looked familiar because she resembled Evangeline.
Daisy explained that she had entered the Count’s service after the Countess had passed away, so she had never seen her in person.
In her diary, the woman had always spat curses at the Count, wished for death, and wallowed in self-loathing. Yet in the paintings, she was smiling faintly.
“She was a beautiful person.”
She wasn't my mother, but I missed my own mom. Still, I was glad she seemed to have shown a smiling face to her daughter.
I covered the paintings back up with the cloths, lest the sunlight damage them.
Anyway, the art tutor also submitted his resignation, saying he couldn't do it after seeing those paintings. The butler even implored me to stay within bounds, complaining that it was getting difficult to keep the tutors' mouths shut. I felt wronged; I hadn't actually done anything.
“You said you have amnesia, but I’m glad your body remembers its habits.”
At least the etiquette tutor had a strong professional spirit and stuck with me until the end. Perhaps it was a “possessor buff,” but etiquette felt like a passive skill I already had, so there was nothing to relearn.
I suppose this is what they mean by the body remembering. Of course, my tongue also seemed to remember its old habits, as I still occasionally spoke quite rudely.
“You worked hard as well, Doline.”
“It’s all thanks to you following along so well, My Lady.”
I was grateful she hadn't run away, so I told the butler to give her a generous bonus.
Doline broke the cliché of the strict etiquette teacher; she was remarkably oblivious and quite kind. She didn't seem to know much about Evangeline’s notoriety. Was that why she didn't run away?
“It will soon be time for the dance tutor to arrive. I heard your health was poor; are you alright to dance?”
My body was fine. The problem, once again, was the dance tutor.
I picked up the dance moves quickly, but when it came time to practice together, the tutor refused to dance with me, claiming he couldn't possibly lay a hand on my body.
“My Lady, excuse me. Have you finished your lesson?”
Hena asked from outside the door after knocking. When I told her to come in, Hena greeted Doline and handed me a letter.
Looking at the recipient, it was for the dance tutor.
“No way…”
It was exactly what I thought. Boiled down, the long-winded letter said that since I'd already mastered all the movements, he had done his part and was quitting.
“Is he saying he’s quitting too?”
“Yeah.”
With this, all my tutors had quit, leaving only Doline.
Honestly, the dance tutor was quite something. I don't know why he'd bail now after teaching me everything. Well, at least I’m thankful he taught me the steps.
I told Hena to go to the butler and tell him not to cut the tuition fee and to pay it in full. If I didn't pay because he quit halfway, who knew what kind of rumors he’d spread? It could easily get twisted into “Evangeline learned everything she needed and then fired him without pay.” All I have is money; I can't have people calling me a miser!
“Yes. I’ll relay that.”
“Um… I should be going as well.”
Doline, sensing the atmosphere, packed her things and stood up.
“Doline, do you know how to teach dance?”
“I can do the basics. But to be your partner, I would have to play the role of the gentleman, wouldn't I? I only know how to dance as a matter of general refinement.”
So, she was saying it wouldn't work because she didn't know the male part.
“How about asking Sir Gabriel to be your practice partner?”
I suppose… I’ll be dancing with Gabriel anyway. Should I just ask him?
Doline left after offering that advice, looking very apologetic.
Once Doline was gone, my afternoon was wide open. When I returned to my room and collapsed onto the bed, Pudding gave me a massage with his cat paws. It was cute, but it didn't relieve any tension at all.
Jelly, who was watching, transformed into a human and gave me a proper massage. It felt like the fatigue in my entire body was melting away. Jelly was quite the expert.
“Did you learn this somewhere?”
“My previous owner used to make me do this sometimes.”
I’d only asked where he learned it, but I had clearly poked at an old wound. Right, I sometimes forget, but Jelly was a former beastkin slave.
It felt like he was deliberately trying to make me feel guilty for enjoying the massage. So, I pushed Jelly away. “That's enough.” Sorry for having such twisted tastes, I guess.
“Jelly, do you know how to dance?”
“How would I know human dances?”
Right. A werewolf who was captured by and escaped from slave traders wouldn't know. But since you said you learned massage from your previous owner, I just thought I’d ask if you learned dancing too…
“Do you know?”
When Jelly asked while pulling Pudding’s tail, Pudding scratched Jelly with his claws.
“What a nasty personality. If you don't know, just say so.”
No, that’s your fault for asking a baby who can't even talk yet. Imagine how much Pudding wanted to answer.
“Why the dance? Did the dance tutor run away too? Humans really are a cowardly bunch.”
Tell me about it. I don't know why everyone is so scared. There are far too few professionals like Doline in this world.
“At least I’m glad Doline is still here.”
“How much longer do you think she’ll last? A day? A week?”
“I wonder.”
This brat Jelly was practically praying for her to quit. He looked ready to place a bet on when she’d leave if I let him.
“She should at least last two weeks, don't you think?”
“Two weeks? Got it.”
My debut was scheduled for two weeks from now. It felt a bit late, considering the season for balls and banquets was already in full swing…