Chapter 49
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 49
“I see.” Doline took Hena’s advice to heart.
Hena then guided her to the door. As Doline stepped outside, a flurry of fluttering petals filled her vision. Spring was nearly over, but the cherry blossoms at the Rohanson mansion showed no signs of fading. From one of the branches, Evangeline swayed in the wind, hanging like a strange fruit.
“You worked hard today. Please get home safely.”
Hena’s farewell snapped Doline back to her senses. She instinctively wiped her mouth and nose, her fingers coming away with a fine white powder. She didn’t even register it.
What was I doing?
Ah, right. She had just received her pay from the butler and was on her way out. Feeling her pocket, she found it reassuringly thick with coins.
“Ahem, cough. You too, Hena. See you next time.”
Doline bid farewell to the gloomy maid and left the Rohanson estate. When did I get hurt? she wondered, noticing her knees were scraped and stinging.
What was I planning to do after leaving the mansion? Right. Send a letter. That’s the only way I’ll get the holy water.
But a major problem had arisen. Doline was bound by the rules of the Rohanson mansion, which strictly forbade her from disclosing anything that happened within its walls.
What was she to do? If she didn’t write the letter, she wouldn’t get the holy water. Agonizing over the dilemma, Doline wrote a letter anyway. Of course, those letters never reached Bishop Zabaniya; they simply piled up, one by one, in her desk drawer.
*
To Bishop Zabaniya,
Bishop, I have safely infiltrated the Rohanson mansion.
The Count is away, and the estate is being managed by a butler named Phlox. The interview was laughably simple. I heard the butler isn't of noble birth, so perhaps he’s just uneducated; he didn’t even realize my documents were forged and gave me a glowing evaluation. Isn’t it hilarious? A junkie serving as an etiquette tutor.
This mansion has so many rules. Seeing how they force them not just on the servants but on a tutor like me, Evangeline Rohanson is bound to be a prickly one. I’ve attached the list of rules they gave me. I’m set to begin my actual lessons on my next visit. But Bishop, what exactly am I supposed to teach a noble lady about etiquette?
From Doline Phonor, who has successfully secured employment.
To the Bishop, who doesn’t reply,
Yes. I understand your intentions perfectly. You want me to stop writing about personal matters and handle things on my own, right? Well, I’ve settled it myself. I went to the library and borrowed a book called Basic Etiquette Lessons. It’s for ten-year-old children, but as long as I can keep up appearances, it should be fine, shouldn’t it? I hope you recognize how much effort this junkie is putting in.
From Doline Phonor.
Bishop, is it finally time for you to die of old age?
Please understand why I’m starting this letter with such vulgarity. This is all your fault. When I clearly asked what kind of person Lady Rohanson was, you just brushed it off by saying she was ‘not ordinary.’ I’m certain you’ve gone senile. It seems you need the holy water more than I do.
Since you live in the Temple, you must see statues everywhere you look. That must be why you found Lady Rohanson familiar. But what if those statues started moving? I’d probably faint on the spot. That is exactly how I feel right now. Please sympathize with my plight of having to teach ten-year-old etiquette to a living statue.
From Doline Phonor, who recommends you seek medical treatment.
To the Bishop,
I am doing my absolute best with this task. Since it seems I can learn more about Evangeline Rohanson from those around her than from the lady herself, I’ve been poking around for information. The people in this mansion, however, tremble in fear at the mere mention of the letter ‘E.’ Still, I managed to get a few things out of Lantana, who loves to hear herself talk.
She said that while Lady Evangeline is scary, you don’t need to be afraid as long as you don’t cross the line, since she never scolds without reason. She also mentioned that the two maids by her side do everything, so there’s no need to get close to them. But I saw three of them. When I asked if there wasn’t another one named Canna, she started cursing, saying I sounded just like that brat of Olive’s—whoever that is. She told me to never even mention that name again.
She also told me everything about the two monsters the Young Lady keeps, the news that a maid named Daisy quit and then came back, and even stories about the new staff. I’ve truly never met someone with such a loose tongue.
When I asked what she would do if I went around blabbing about all this, she just said, ‘You won’t be able to.’ Can you believe that? What does she mean? I suppose it means I’ve acted reliably enough to earn her trust.
From Doline Phonor, who hopes for a token of your appreciation.
Bishop. Are you even reading my letters?
You promised me a bottle of holy water as an advance once I was hired. I’ve waited long enough, fearing I might seem too pushy. Do you have any idea how many letters I’ve sent?
My withdrawal symptoms are getting worse. At this rate, I might not be able to carry out your request properly. Of course, I’m not threatening you. How could a junkie like me dare say anything to a Bishop? So please, send the medicine—no, the holy water—quickly.
Every other tutor hired by the Rohanson family has quit, except for me and one other person. None of them lasted a single day. Do you see how hard I’m trying?
From Doline, who hopes for your grace.
To the Bishop,
Bishop. Are you just using me? You bastard! What did I tell you? I told you my withdrawal symptoms were getting severe! All day long, I hear voices telling me to die. I have barely any medicine left, and I only feel somewhat sane when I take it. I’m about to teach etiquette while high! They say Evangeline Rohanson has amnesia. Is she on drugs too? This place is strange. I step on flesh when I walk. I saw the corpse of Evangeline Rohanson hanging by her neck. Today, I accidentally stepped on an eyeball and popped it. I’ll stop here.
From Doline.
To the Bishop,
I am afra— [heavily erased marks] Bishop, the Young Lady is a kind person. Even though I have been reporting all her private affairs like a spy, she said she would forgive me. I love the Young Lady more than you, who doesn’t even reply. This is my last letter. I like this mansion. I worship Lady Rohanson. For she is the one who will save me.
From the Rohanson Mansion, Doline Phonor.
To Ms. Doline Phonor,
Doline, are you handling the task I requested well? I do not wish to rush you, but I have not received a single letter. I heard the news of your successful hiring, but as there have been no reports on your progress, I am growing concerned that something may have happened to you. Are you doing well? I am truly curious about how you are faring at the Rohanson mansion. Yes, it would be good if you could tell me about your employer, Lady Rohanson. I hope you have not forgotten the promise we made.
From the place where the sun shines brightest, God’s favorite, Zabaniya.
“Butler, this is a letter for Ms. Doline. What should we do? Should we inform the Young Lady?”
“No. If the Young Lady finds out, it might become a bigger issue. Just deliver it to Sir Gabriel. He happens to be visiting this afternoon. Daisy, please take care of it.”
“Yes. I’ll do that.”
“I must pray that God’s favorite makes a wise decision.”
*
At the hour when shadows were shortest—a time when the Rohanson mansion usually held its breath, singing a silent lullaby for Evangeline’s late slumber—the estate was unusually bustling.
Four carriages had stopped before the main gate, and the mansion’s servants were helping to move luggage.
“You’ll be staying in the guest rooms on the second floor. We’ll move the luggage for you.”
“Ah, thank you for your help.”
“Hey, the fabric is dragging on the ground! Please, lift it carefully!”
There were so many ornate embroidered cloths, colorful fabrics, lace decorations, and catalogs that they couldn’t even fit them all in the carriages. It took two people just to carry a single bundle.
“There’s a hell of a lot of it…” Raphaella marveled, watching the procession of luggage.
At the sound of his voice, the woman directing the operation smacked him squarely on the back. With a crisp thwack, Raphaella winced and slumped over.
“That hurts, Misha!”
“Do you think I hit you so it wouldn’t hurt? What are you doing just standing there? Hurry up and help.”
“What? Me? I’m a knight!”
“Then are these guys my personal porters?”
Following her pointing finger, Raphaella saw his comrades—members of the Pararos Knights, whose uniforms commanded solemn respect—toiling like worker ants as they moved the luggage. Being knights with superior stamina, they showed no signs of fatigue even while carrying twice as much as anyone else.
“Uriel, Seraph…”
Even Jeremy, who usually acted as if breathing was a chore, had been mobilized. With the exception of the Commander, who had gone ahead to see Lady Rohanson, no one was exempt. Raphaella was about to drag his feet over to pick up some luggage when he suddenly stopped.
“Misha, why aren’t you saying anything to your brother?”
“…Michel has a bit of a headache right now.”
Artemisia looked at Michel as if he were the most pitiful and tragic creature in the world. Seeing her go to the trouble of using such refined language for her own brother, Raphaella decided to drag him down too. Even if his head hurt, his body was fine; there was no reason to let his labor go to waste.
“Sigh…”
Michel was standing with his eyes closed, taking a deep, deliberate breath. Raphaella ignored Artemisia’s glare and threw an arm around Michel’s shoulder.
“Michel, what are you doing?”
“I am taking in the air to my heart's content. Perhaps because Lady Rohanson resides here, it feels so pure and fragrant. It is also my first time seeing cherry trees in such full and glorious bloom. My heart yearns to become one with this scenery, but alas, I am merely a man who must continue to atone within the Pararos Knights.”
Crazy bastard… Goosebumps broke out on Raphaella’s skin, and he quietly slid his arm off Michel’s shoulder.