Lindbergh (4)

"In truth, anyone there with a sharp eye would have recognized it."

I kept my voice matter-of-fact.

Mia Crowfield had actually looked back and forth between Lottie and Lottie's mother, and then she'd startled. They simply resembled each other that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much.

If they had merely looked alike, she might not have noticed. Unless someone was a lecher of exceptional devotion, there was no reason to study a maid's face so closely. And besides, in this world setting, in this world where the early twentieth century was so starkly realized, a woman past thirty was not a particularly attractive figure.

Of course, that wasn't to say there were no widows who remarried or women who had traded out several husbands, but those were usually noblewomen. Not a maid with nothing behind her.

"Above all, the fact that she went to help them personally was decisive."

Even if I hadn't known the background in advance, I would still have put it together after seeing this. Leaving aside how much the two resembled each other, Lottie was Jake's person.

"Is that so...?"

There was no strength in Lottie's voice, a stark contrast to the way she normally traded barbs with Jake whenever they were together.

Her expressionless face meant she didn't show it as obviously as Jake did, but she clearly didn't want to be in this place.

It was one of those moments that revealed how much Lottie had let her guard down at the academy.

"Do you think that will become a serious problem?"

At my question, Lottie bowed her head and sank into thought.

"... It might. What I did back then might... have been a mistake. I suppose you could call it that."

Hm.

Listening to her, I found myself feeling slightly strange.

I had seen Lottie's face quite often, but I had almost never spoken with her one-on-one like this. We didn't take classes together, and when I did see her, Jake was usually with her. The one who talked and chattered was always Jake. Unless someone addressed her first, Lottie never went out of her way to approach another person.

"You can't call helping your parents a mistake."

I kept my voice as level as I could, stripping out any emotion. No matter what feeling slipped in, Lottie might take the words unpleasantly.

After I spoke, Lottie lifted her head and looked at me.

Perhaps because she had recovered some of her composure, her face had returned to its usual expressionlessness.

"Your Highness, why did you help us back then?"

"..."

I regarded Lottie quietly.

"I already gave you my reason."

"... You're saying you did it simply because of the atmosphere?"

Hm.

Had I earned her suspicion without meaning to?

Well, even in the original story, Lottie hadn't accepted Leo's help easily. As if she couldn't understand why a noble with no connection to her would assist her.

Given that she did eventually accept Jake's help, it was probably just a difference in familiarity.

Now that I thought about it, if Jake hadn't been around, she might truly have been a romanceable character. The whole story was practically a dating sim.

"You could put it down to the atmosphere."

I turned back around and leaned against the railing.

This was a world without electricity, yet the city was brilliantly bright. The gaspipe streetlights along the roads and the lamps visible through windows far into the distance were enough to make the city glow.

Though, perhaps because of all the soot belched out during the day, the stars in the sky were barely visible. No—there were places belching soot even at night. In an era like this, they wouldn't be respecting workers' rights just because it was nighttime.

"The atmosphere of the banquet may have been part of it. And the atmosphere of the situation."

I paused ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a moment, then said,

"I have no parents."

I said.

I could not see Lottie’s face or hear her voice, but it was easy to imagine her stiffening where she stood behind me.

"I can't give you anything more detailed than that. But if you've ever heard the talk about the imperial family, you must already know. That the only person who truly carries the emperor's blood is Alice."

To be slightly more precise, everyone except me carried the emperor's blood, but there was no need to mention that.

"I won't say that I envy you or anything like that. Everyone has painful memories, and that kind of pain isn't something one should lightly sympathize with. Even if you think you sympathize, you can't really know unless you've gone through the exact same thing yourself."

I spoke to the silent Lottie.

"However. If someone has both birth parents, or at least one of them, and is able to help a parent in trouble regardless of the time or circumstances, then I have every intention of helping that person."

"..."

Lottie said nothing and stood there like that for a while before she finally spoke.

"... Thank you."

That was all she said, in a small voice.

*

"Lottie."

As Lottie emerged from behind the curtain, having finished her conversation with the imperial princess, someone called out to her.

She didn't even need to check his face. He had been her master for her entire life; she had lived listening to that voice.

Perhaps he had watched her go to Princess Sylvia. Jake was leaning against the wall beside the entrance to the terrace.

"Did you hear?"

"No. That curtain is thicker than you'd think. With it drawn, the noise of the banquet swallows everything, so you can't really make out a conversation."

Lottie called to mind the princess's earlier expression. Looking at that perpetually composed face, she felt that even if their conversation had been overheard, the woman wouldn't so much as twitch an eyebrow.

And the information probably hadn't been that important in the first place—not if she had been willing to tell that story directly to Lottie, of all people.

That most of the emperor's children were of orphan origin was a rumor that had reached even Lottie's ears.

"So, what about Sylvia?"

"..."

At those words, Lottie opened her mouth briefly, then shut it again.

A moment ago, while she had been helping her mother, that hand had suddenly shot out from beside her and she'd been genuinely startled. Enough that her expression had cracked for an instant.

And she'd been suspicious.

Jake hadn't seemed to think much of it, but Sylvia was—Princess Sylvia Fangriffon was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠someone to be watched.

So much so that the ducal house had said something similar when they had attached Lottie to Jake's side.

But the longer they talked, the less Sylvia seemed like someone utterly without blood or tears. It had been that way at the academy too. At first, she had been someone to guard against to an extreme degree, but the more Lottie watched her converse with Jake, the more the thought had crept in: perhaps she was simply a considerate person.

"Sylvia... did she say something bad to you?"

Even Jake, who asked the question, didn't look as if he truly believed it. Still, Lottie asked him anyway, just in case.

"Do you think so?"

"Well, I don't think so either."

Jake furrowed his brow for a second.

"I mean... it was the same at the academy. You know how it is. There were quite a few kids who'd call you out for no reason and try to intimidate you."

"She's different from those pathetic people."

Even within the commoner class, attitudes toward Lottie split into two. Either they discriminated against her for being a colonial native, or they feared the name of the ducal house standing behind her and never spoke to her at all.

And among those who discriminated, a few committed acts of sheer insolence.

... People who, despite their own commoner status, sought to coax or threaten Jake's maid Lottie in order to marry Jake and elevate their own station.

Many of them didn't realize that Lottie was there specifically to block such people, under that exact pretext.

"And besides, I was the one who sought her out. Her Highness didn't say anything."

"Really? Well, that does sound like Sylvia."

Seeing Jake's reaction, Lottie's eyes widened, very slightly.

He generally carried himself with a light manner, but Jake was not someone who trusted others easily. No matter how highly placed the imperial family was, or rather, precisely because they were the imperial family, making Jake react this way required a thoroughly consistent act performed steadily over time.

Unless... she simply was "that kind of person."

For just an instant, Lottie's heart gave a great, heavy beat.

It was presumptuous of her, but during their conversation earlier, Lottie had sensed a commonality with Sylvia, and something akin to... a strange sense of closeness.

And seeing Jake describe that same Sylvia in those terms—

"..."

And then, right there, the thought she'd been nursing drained cleanly out of her in an instant.

So fast she almost let out a snort before she could catch herself.

Jealousy. Her, of all things.

Of all emotions, wasn't that the one least suited ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Lottie? Jealousy. Something she had no need for in the first place.

Because Jake would marry someone else someday.

And Lottie...

Well.

"Hey—did you almost laugh just now?"

Jake, catching Lottie's expression with practiced ease, spoke up.

"No."

"Are you sure? I saw it."

"No."

She cut him off flatly twice and walked on. Jake trailed after her, pestering her, but it didn't matter. That was just the way Jake always was.

At the very least, the fact that Jake had shown that side of himself here was enough.

In any case, Lottie could never be the first.

So wasn't it enough simply to remain by his side and be content with that?

Until now, there had been almost no one who caught her eye... but, well, if she were to venture a presumptuous personal judgment—

If someone like Princess Sylvia were to become the mistress, Lottie didn't think she'd have a great deal to complain about.