Single, 21 Years Old, Lots of Power - 6
I had never seen the head maid run before.
So she can run.
It was an obvious enough fact, yet it still struck me as strange. The head maid had always been demure and quiet; I had never even seen her walk quickly. I had half-wondered whether, for some reason, she simply could not run.
Of course, as the woman who attended the Countess most closely—and a noblewoman born of a Viscount’s house in her own right—maintaining her dignity was only natural. But she was thorough about it. Put her in a dress instead of a maid’s uniform and she would look every bit the mistress of a high house.
I was not the only one thinking so. The maids she had brought trailing after her wore the same startled expressions. If that head maid came sprinting back, out of breath, and harried you into returning at once, anyone would be flustered.
“I’m sorry, my lady. It seems it will take a little while.”
Mother turned her gaze to Margeta after confirming the maids had brought the refreshments. Brewing a proper pot of tea would take time, of course.
“Please don’t mention it. On the contrary, I’m the one who should be grateful that you’ve welcomed me so warmly despite my sudden and discourteous visit.”
But Margeta only bowed her head in reply. Strictly speaking, since Margeta was the one who had arrived unannounced, Mother would have been within her rights not to entertain her properly. One can only prepare when one knows a guest is coming.
Even so, the fact that she had summoned back the maids she had just dismissed suggested Mother was rather pleased by Margeta’s greeting.
“Welcoming my son’s friend is only natural. Don’t give it another thought.”
When my eyes met Mother’s as she said that, I gave a slight nod, and she smiled faintly in return.
A friend. Come to think of it, from Mother’s perspective, was Margeta the first friend her son had ever brought home? Not quite as momentous as bringing home a prospective bride, but still a happy occasion.
Strictly speaking, Mother had been the one to invite Margeta in the first place, but we could set that aside. I was the one who had brought her, after all.
“Thank you, my lady.”
Margeta gave a small smile, seemingly pleased by Mother’s hospitality.
Is this a dream? Have I reached the point where my mind, worn thin and frayed, is conjuring the hallucinations I most long to see?
If it is a dream, if it is a hallucination—I wish it would go on. Even if it must shatter, let me be happy for just a little while.
“The garden was beautiful, but the rear garden is lovely as well.”
“It’s the pride of our castle. The gardeners put their hearts into it.”
“That doesn’t sound like something someone who hasn’t visited the castle in ages should be saying.”
“Quiet.”
But even my ears, not only my eyes, keep sending steady signals. This is real, not false. The situation I have longed for and longed for is truly unfolding before me.
My two sons sit together amicably, and the young lady Karl brought is with them. And I myself am included in the gathering—not as an unwelcome interloper, but as someone who belongs. A scene I could not even dare imagine until moments ago has come to life.
On the chance I am wrong, I glance at Laura. She looks dazed at first, but soon she smiles, and my heart settles. Yes. What I am seeing is real.
“Have we been talking only among ourselves? I’m so sorry, my lady.”
As I watch quietly, Lady Margeta seems to take my silence the wrong way. Sorry? I am the one who should be more grateful than anyone.
“It was nice to hear the children’s conversation. I don’t often get the chance these days.”
I shake my head slightly as I answer. Yes, it was nice. Nice to hear Karl’s stories. Nice to hear Erich’s stories.
They had not been speaking to me, yet they shared their own affairs without minding my presence. That fact alone made me so happy.
And at my answer, Lady Margeta smiles brightly. How can a person be so lovely?
Thank you, my lady.
I want to take both her hands and bow my head over and over. But that would only make her uncomfortable.
Anyone who is not a fool can tell that Lady Margeta is the one who orchestrated this gathering. How could I not know, when the boy who had just left returned with her?
Even now, as they talk, Karl’s gaze keeps drifting toward Lady Margeta. Because she led this situation—or because she is someone Karl holds dear. Either way, it is welcome news.
Lady Margeta is even making an effort to include me in the flow of conversation. Thanks to her, I can speak naturally with both of my boys as well.
So thoughtful at that age.
Is Lady Margeta eighteen this year? At that age I gave birth to Karl, but I was far too immature and pathetic.
Once she looked pretty to me, everything about her looked good. Her red hair seemed warm; her green eyes shone like jewels. Her smile is beautiful and her heart is deep—there is nothing lacking.
Even if her family were wanting, she would be more than satisfactory, yet her family is a ducal house. How can she be so perfect?
And I didn’t even know she was this sort of girl.
In truth I already knew of Lady Margeta. From the month after last year’s New Year’s Audience, a rumor had spread quickly among the ladies of some standing in high society.
That the Iron Blood Duke’s most cherished youngest daughter had set her heart on Karl, and that the Iron Blood Duke was therefore eyeing Karl as his youngest son-in-law. Once that rumor spread, the marriage proposals flying toward the County of Tailglehen dried up at once.
What noble would dare pursue a match the Iron Blood Duke himself had marked? And the source of the rumor had been one of the Iron Blood Duke’s own daughters.
I didn’t like it.
At the time Billy, trusting that Karl would handle it himself, did not interfere in Karl’s marriage talks. He simply forwarded every proposal letter to Karl and let him choose.
I agreed with Billy on that much. Better for Karl to choose the person he wants than for parents as poor as we are to choose for him. But the Iron Blood Duke’s intervention erased Karl’s chance to choose anyone.
It was galling. To use the family’s power to apply pressure, no matter how much he loved her. Treating Karl like game with no room to refuse was unpleasant.
But did I have the right to be displeased? The right to protest? What if I protested to a ducal house from a position with no standing and only harmed Karl? What if Karl actually liked Lady Margeta?
In the end I spent a whole year unable to do anything—but looking at things now, that was the right choice.
“Your cup is empty. Would you like more?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Karl notices Lady Margeta’s teacup and lifts the teapot.
Seeing him care for her so attentively, it is clear Karl has feelings for Lady Margeta as well. Otherwise he would never sit here with me simply because she asked.
As I watch without meaning to, Karl notices my gaze and leans toward me.
“Mother’s cup is empty too.”
“Ah. So it is.”
Tea fills the empty cup little by little. A simple sight. One I have seen several times today alone. But why does it feel so special now?
For a moment I nearly shed tears. When Karl left, all I could do was stare endlessly at empty teacups. And now? Karl is filling my cup with his own hands.
The same cup, a different sight. Is it only the tea rising? Is it only the cup being filled? An indescribable happiness wells up inside me.
“Thank… you.”
My voice trembles a little. Afraid I have shown a pitiful face in this good atmosphere, I glance at Karl, but he only smiles as if nothing is wrong.
Suddenly I wonder how long it has been since this child smiled at me.
“You—your mother’s cup was empty and you didn’t pour for her sooner.”
“Young Master Karl, you’ll choke Young Master Erich like that.”
“Nanny. Is there any sparkling water…?”
Laura’s face lights up as she picks up the bottle at Erich’s words. Mine must look the same.
Because it was an impromptu tea party, it did not last long. I was a little sorry about that—
“I enjoyed being with you, my lady. If it’s all right, may I call on you again?”
“Of course, my lady.”
—but the regret vanished at once. How could I not be glad when the benefactor who gave me this happiness wants to come again? And a faint hope rose that if Lady Margeta came, Karl might come with her.
I glance at Karl with that expectation and meet his eyes as he whispers something to Erich.
“I’ll see you at dinner.”
Karl’s words leave me briefly dazed before I hurriedly nod. Right. It is natural for a family to gather at mealtimes. It is natural.
“Yes. See you then.”
Natural. Perfectly natural.
I bite my lip hard. If I let my guard down I will cry the way I did in front of Laura.
Karl and Erich leave with the promise to meet at dinner, and when Lady Margeta also moves to go, I hold her back a moment.
“My lady?”
Lady Margeta blinks as if asking what the matter is, and I carefully open my mouth.
“I worried a great deal about Karl living alone in the Imperial Capital, so I’m relieved he met someone like you at the Academy at least.”
“You’re too kind. I’m the one who’s fortunate to have met Young Master Karl.”
“If you’re by that child’s side, I feel I can rest easy.”
And I let out a small sigh. It was funny to be saying this only now. If things had been normal, I should have met Lady Margeta last year when the rumor spread through high society.
“Spreading the rumor in high society must have taken courage as well. I’m sorry for ignoring it for a whole year.”
“Ah, yes, yes…”
“I don’t oppose you, my lady. Please just know that.”
Lady Margeta, looking completely stunned, bows several times before she leaves.
Seeing her like that, she isn’t only deep and thoughtful. She’s cute in a way that suits her age, too.
From today on, I will offer prayers to Enen three times a day.
“If you’re by that child’s side, I feel I can rest easy.”
“I don’t oppose you, my lady. Please just know that.”
Enen clearly favors me. I can be certain of it. Otherwise this could not have happened.
Heh heh… uhuuhuuhu…
We are still in the rear garden, so I desperately hold back the laughter that threatens to burst out. I cannot let Mother hear such frivolous laughter.
But something feels off.
High society?
And a year? What does she mean? If she says a year, something does come to mind—but high society? I didn’t hear it from Karl.
Why…?
Why did Mother hear news of me through high society? And news from that time isn’t exactly good news.
Don’t tell me it all spread? That Karl rejected me? That it reached high society?
…Really?