Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: First Welcome (3)
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“Why...?”
“They're people gathered to welcome Madam.”
“Pardon? A welcome?”
Rose echoed in disbelief.
“Everyone's eyes look a bit...”
“They're just nervous.”
“The armor's too shiny...”
“There's oil to spare.”
“...”
Whether Rose blinked in surprise or not,
Thud.
I took Rose's hand and began to walk.
Thud, thud.
The path from the carriage to the door wasn't far. But as we passed the servants lined up on either side, bowing at the waist,
The road ahead will be long.
That was what I thought. Amidst it all, I could feel Rose's sidelong glances peeking at me.
“Do you have something to say?”
“S-Sorry.”
As if she hadn't expected me to notice, Rose hurriedly turned her head away.
Even that makes her seem like a wild animal.
Sneaking peeks at me, yet pretending not to see when our eyes met.
In any case, from then on, Rose kept her eyes fixed on the ground as she walked. That allowed me to observe her more closely.
The dress is worn out.
To exaggerate slightly, it was in worse condition than even the head maid's. Not only was the fabric shabby, but there were signs of personal mending here and there on the frayed and faded spots.
It felt like she'd carefully ironed and worn the cleanest, best-preserved garment she owned.
It's her first day of marriage, after all.
It hit me anew just how desperately Viscountess Vicander wanted to be rid of Rose.
She'd sent her off to the position where seven wives had already perished, without even the bare minimum of adornment. Like disposing of defective inventory.
A spot where she'll die anyway—they must've thought even the cost wasn't worth it.
A crooked smile formed on my lips unbidden.
How could this possibly be the look of a villainess who stole her sister's man and squandered the family fortune?
Of course, she probably never imagined I'd come out to greet her personally. Not with all the rumors they'd diligently spread about me.
She really gets under my skin.
I'd planned to leave revenge against the Vicander family entirely to Rose. But seeing her like this made my hands itch.
I was going to help her anyway, so taking up the grudge against the Vicanders myself wouldn't be so bad. It would even score points with her.
With my thoughts settled, what lay ahead became clearer.
That was when it happened.
“U-Um, Your Excellency.”
Rose called out to me in a small voice.
“What.”
“May I ask one question?”
“You can ask two.”
I'd meant it as a way to lighten the awkward atmosphere.
“...”
But Rose's expression turned strange.
Now I regretted it.
“What is your question?”
“...Today.”
Rose took a breath before continuing.
“Why did you come out here?”
She, who'd been avoiding my gaze all this time, now looked straight into my eyes.
Her face, tense despite asking first, waited for my answer. Her earnest gaze clung to me, as if searching my eyes for something.
If she was coming at me this sincerely, it was only polite to respond in kind.
“Because you're my wife.”
I met her eyes and spoke slowly.
“Isn't it natural to greet your wife when she arrives?”
At my unwavering tone, the composure Rose had barely maintained crumbled.
“Natural... to do that?”
Her voice dripped with disbelief, as if something utterly impossible had occurred.
I understood. Even I hadn't imagined myself saying such a thing until this morning.
But the situation had changed, and now it was time to accept it.
“Why do you think these people are gathered here? For the same reason as me.”
“To... welcome me?”
“Yes.”
I stopped walking as I finished speaking. We'd reached the doors of the inner castle, flung wide open.
“Whether you believe it or not doesn't matter.”
“...”
“Actions speak louder than words, after all. Better to show you.”
I released Rose's hand and offered a greeting.
“It's nearly mealtime. See you in the dining hall.”
“The dining hall...”
Rose gazed at me, caressing the hand that had touched mine, now free.
“Does that mean you'll dine with me this evening?”
“Yes.”
“...Why.”
That one word, blurted out thoughtlessly, carried layers of meaning.
Why eat with me? Why come greet me all the way out here? Why to me... of all people.
The words she couldn't voice faded like illusions. Only someone who knew the past that no longer existed could utter such a thing.
“-!”
Rose bit her lip, realizing her slip. But seeing it only put me at ease.
She's definitely a regressor.
That conviction let me speak all the more firmly.
“Welcome to Schmichael Castle, Madam.”
Rose's pitifully trembling eyes turned to me. At last, she replied.
“...Thank you, Your Excellency.”
Her response sank like a sigh, a whirlwind of emotions churning within.
And so, our first step—our first meeting—came to an end.
Rustle, rustle.
The muffled footsteps of the servants.
Clink.
The faint noise of tableware and dishes being placed on the cart.
Those were the only sounds echoing sporadically in the vast dining hall.
The room was that quiet. Out of consideration for my mood as I sat at the table.
But.
What in the world.
I was too lost in thought to pay them much mind.
What's the problem?
Recalling the orders I'd given Bill earlier.
'Give a welcome befitting the Schmichael name.'
'Make sure she knows exactly what family she's marrying into. Prepare thoroughly.'
No matter how I pondered, the conclusion was the same.
I said it perfectly, didn't I?
...No. If I'd said it right, this wouldn't have happened. Was it my expression when I spoke? Did I scowl too much?
“Bill.”
“Yes, Master.”
Bill, who was pouring water into my glass nearby, looked up.
“Is there a mirror?”
He flinched.
He quickly composed his face and bowed deeply.
“...Yes, Master.”
A servant brought a mirror and handed it to me.
“Here you are.”
“Hm.”
I took the mirror from Bill and peered into it.
Blue eyes, skin so pale and translucent. Silver hair reminiscent of this land's winter snowpeaks.
The hallmarks of the Schmichael family. My father had them too, and so do I.
But what stood out most were these eyes—cold to an extreme. So piercingly blue they seemed icy.
Father and I are spitting images. Like shards of ice embedded in our eyes.
Even as a child, when I'd met the king with my father, I'd heard such remarks.
The eyes are the issue, after all.
I knew my gaze intimidated others. They said it felt like I could see right through them, or that it was terrifying, like being dissected.
I frowned into the mirror. This was my usual expression, after all.
“...Hm.”
Indeed, speaking in this state would make even a simple order sound like a death sentence.
So what now?
Should I smile?
The thought brought another problem to mind.
How do you smile?
When was the last time I'd smiled genuinely, out of joy or delight?
It felt like ages ago—I couldn't even remember. Probably since my parents passed.
Smiling's out of the question.
Then at least I needed to soften this intimidating gaze.
“...”
I tried relaxing the corners of my eyes, but it didn't seem effective.
For years, I'd armored my face in sternness to fend off scrutiny from collateral kin and show no weakness. Old habits wouldn't change with a moment's effort.
This would take time.
Not easy...
I handed the mirror back to Butler Bill and asked.
“Has the tour of the castle finished?”
“Yes, Master.”
The question lacked a subject, yet Bill grasped it immediately. He received the mirror with a respectful posture and continued.
“I guided Madam to the room at the end of the east corridor on the second floor. Her luggage and maid were moved along with her.”
It was about time to correct Bill's misconceptions about Rose.
“Did Rose Vicander truly seem like the rumored villainess in your eyes?”
Bill fell silent for a moment, then asked cautiously.
“May I speak frankly?”
“That's why I'm asking.”
Bill studied me closely. Confirming my utterly calm expression, he slowly spoke.
“Frankly, the Vicanders' rudeness exceeded my imagination. Did you see the dress Madam wore?”
“I did.”
“I've never seen such a shoddy dress. It's lamentable—they send a bride to the Schmichaels in that?”
That bad, huh.
Even I, who had no interest in women's clothing, could tell it was severe.
“I ordered it disposed of immediately. It was too ragged even for a rag.”
“A rag...”
“Her luggage was just one bag. And only one maid? Should've been at least three.”
“Was that the case with the previous wives?”
“Some brought over six maids. Luggage filled two carriages.”
Bill shook his head.
“Too modest for the rumored villainess.”
“Indeed.”
Bill had eyes; he'd seen it. So the rumors were wrong...
“That's why it's all the more outrageous.”
...Huh?
I shut my mouth in bewilderment.
Unaware, Bill continued gravely.
“To deceive Master, who'd prepared such a lavish welcome. She thinks you don't know the rumors and puts on this brazen act.”
“...”
“Socialite ladies change masks as needed, but this is beyond the pale.”
Did we see the same person? How could he think that was acting?
...No, he didn't see what I did.
That face, those expressions. The ingrained little habits and subtle movements.
Only someone close could recognize them for what they were: profoundly pitiable and heartbreaking.
“Bill.”
My head throbbed. Because of this stubborn butler's mindset.