A Tale of Rabbits and Rules
Scolding only sinks in if you understand why you're being scolded.
"Once upon a time, there was a noble girl who spent her days bored because her older sister had married young. One day, crouched beneath the great oak tree where she used to play with her sister, the girl burst into tears. 'I'm so lonely. My sister used to play with me so well back then!'"
Damian made no pretense of listening, but Ibel pressed on steadily with the book, undeterred by the child. When dialogue came up, she even acted it out with vivid voices.
If it's truly boring, he'll fall asleep. Or maybe run around the room like a maniac.
But Damian did neither. He kept up his endless mischief, yet stayed by her side.
In other words, he was listening.
"Then, a black rabbit and a white rabbit appeared before the girl. The white one was peculiar—it held a fancy pocket watch in one hand, dressed in clothes straight out of a palace a century ago. The black rabbit, meanwhile, just clutched a simple hourglass."
Before she knew it, Damian had gone quiet.
She continued reading, gauging his reactions bit by bit.
"The girl hesitated for a moment, then followed the white rabbit. The instant she squeezed into the tree's roots—oh no! She slipped right down. What now?"
She could almost see his ears perking up.
Damian's unusually serious face reminded her of Victor.
Just then, old Banya arrived with sweet potato pie.
It was the perfect moment, right as the child's attention might waver, so Ibel closed the book.
"The pie baked up beautifully. Um, would Madam care for a bite?"
"That sounds good. And from now on, bring sweet potato pie at the same time every day. That's when I'll read to him."
"Understood. And... thank you for looking after young Master Damian. The fault for not caring for him properly lies with me first and foremost."
Ibel paused mid-slice at Banya's words.
"I'm replacing all of Damian's maids. Let the boys choose their own. It's time they learned to take responsibility for their subordinates."
If they picked their own attendants, there wouldn't be the same conflicts as before.
Anselm would choose someone soft and pliable enough to become his confidant.
Damian would pick someone sturdy who could play with him.
She could already picture it, clear as day.
"I'll make the arrangements. Thank you for your mercy."
No need for long explanations—Victor would grasp her thinking immediately. If others found it puzzling, that was fine.
Smiling, Ibel handed a slice to Damian. Another was hers. The last went to Banya.
"As for you, old lady—three months' pay docked."
"A lenient judgment, truly."
Banya took the warm pie with an abashed smile.
"Truth be told, I knew Lady Genevieve was being harsh with the young master. But I judged it wasn't my place to interfere. If it meant he'd come out unscathed... I turned a blind eye, a deaf ear. That's the true duty of anyone serving House Bayern, I told myself—to grant myself absolution."
"Good that you admit it. But there's one thing you're mistaken about, Banya."
Damian flung his fork aside and shoveled the pie into his mouth with his hands. He devoured the slice in seconds, eyeing the rest with greedy hunger.
Ibel lifted the remaining pie whole, out of reach, and murmured indifferently.
"Damian isn't deranged. It's not some unscientific devilry. He's perfectly fine."
"Pardon?"
Banya's eyes went wide.
"He knows who hates him, who looks down on him. And who protects him. His mind works just fine."
"...!"
"So gather all the servants in the front courtyard shortly. The ones waiting at the entrance, too. They need to see what happens when you err."
She wiped Damian's hands and mouth with a napkin, then nodded at the utensils.
"Use the fork. I know you can."
"Grrr."
"Sit nicely and eat with the fork, and I'll read more. As much as you want, until you're full."
Denied what he craved, ferocity flickered in Damian's blue eyes—along with a gluttony no noble child should have.
"Come on, sit and pick up the fork. Banya and I use ours, don't we?"
"Aaah! Aaaah!"
"Eat with the fork, Damian."
"Aaaaaah!"
Damian scowled in refusal and slammed the table. The fork clattered to the floor.
Ibel silently picked it up and set it before him.
Clang!
Damian snatched it and hurled it away.
But without much force this time.
Before, he would've aimed for her face or eyes. Now, he timidly targeted the floor.
"Can't be helped, then. Book tomorrow. Pie ends here today. We'll have the rest tomorrow."
Just as Victor hoped, Ibel was soft on the outside, steel within.
Unyielding. Strict.
She'd let it slide once, but correct it the second time.
"If you didn't know how, I'd teach you. But you do know—when you mimic Anselm, you eat properly."
Damian, who had lunged to bite and tantrum, flinched.
His shocked face said he hadn't expected to be caught. He backed away hesitantly. In that moment, Ibel calmly gestured, and the pie was cleared away for real.
No raised voice. No rough handling.
Just clear, unwavering rules.
"Time for me to go."
It was nearly time to face Cecily Bethel. As she rose to leave, Damian twitched anxiously. As if he hadn't truly believed she'd go.
"Grrrng."
"You heard me earlier? Same time tomorrow. Promise. Try the pie with the fork then."
"..."
The fidgeting boy stared piercingly as she left, desperation fading to resignation—like watching someone who might never return.
Ibel stopped.
The defeated aura at her back didn't sit right.
"Damian."
"!"
"Want to come with me? I'll stay by your side."
A flurry of emotions crossed Damian's face at her question.
First 'joy,' then a scowl of 'repulsion' as he grasped the words. Followed by fierce 'conflict.'
After wrestling in his small head, the boy toddled over.
"Hold hands?"
A nod.
Banya, watching the pair, marveled endlessly.
Damian, turned into a docile puppy!
She felt ashamed of herself for thinking him uncontrollable all this time.
"As expected of someone university-educated. This old Banya is deeply impressed."
In this era, attending university was no small feat.
Whether they taught child-rearing there, she couldn't say—but clearly, this was no ordinary person.
And for such a one to become the Duchess of Bayern!
If only she'd stay forever.
Docked pay or not, Banya felt no grievance. If anything, her punishment seemed too light.
Everyone had given up on the second young master.
For so long, Genevieve had set the standards in this estate. Like it or not, they followed. And so, they grew numb.
They'd carelessly decided Damian was beyond saving.
But that was wrong.
"Anyone bearing the name of Bayern is Bayern—even a child."
Banya bowed deeper at the weighty words.