Soft and Plump
It was soft and plump.
Viviana's palm was fair and soft, but the medicine clinging to her fingertips stung quite sharply.
"Ah… Lady Viviana, please be a little gentler…"
"…"
"Augh! It—it stings…"
"Young Lady, must you make so much noise?"
"Pardon…? But it hurts…"
"…Very well."
Viviana narrowed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and resumed applying the salve beneath my waist. The impassive mask she had held so firmly until now was beginning to show the faintest cracks of disarray.
…Does she hate this that much?
I'd told her over and over that she didn't have to do this, precisely because I expected as much. She was the one who insisted it was fine and ordered me to lift my skirt. So why was she wearing that uncomfortable look now?
I lay face-down across her lap, her cloak spread beneath me like a mat. Viviana carefully raised my skirt and worked the medicine in with meticulous care.
It was an exceedingly embarrassing position, but any other posture made the pain unbearable—there simply was no choice. Since this was a one-time encounter that would end tonight, I could endure the humiliation. Fortunately—if one could call it that—Viviana's touch was remarkably gentle, quite unlike her usual temperament.
"So you are that Pet Young Lady?"
She asked while still applying the salve. Given the nature of the nickname, few people opened with it on first meeting. Our heroine, it seemed, cared nothing for such niceties.
"…Yes. But why do you ask?"
"I was curious. Calling a person a pet—does that not bother you, Young Lady?"
What a question—rude and yet somehow not quite rude. There was concern in it, certainly, but it also sounded as though she were sneering at me for having no pride.
It won't work on me, Viviana.
I had weathered barbed words and looks like these countless times. As always, I answered her with a bright smile.
"What's there to mind? It means they think I'm adorable."
"As a pretty animal, no doubt."
"I'd rather that than be seen as the daughter of a house on the brink of ruin."
"…I see."
Viviana raised one brow slightly and nodded, as though something had clicked into place. As she smoothed the last of the salve over my hip, a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she asked again.
"Still, you might want to be more careful. If you keep acting so naive, what will you do when you end up with wounds like these again?"
A distinctly teasing tone.
Hmm. So she's mocking me.
Given Viviana's personality, she would normally find a conversation this long tedious and cut it short. The moniker "Pet Young Lady" must have piqued her interest more than expected.
I had no particular desire to win her favor, but habit is a terrifying thing. A year's worth of ingrained instinct had me offering a sweet-eyed smile and spouting the first flattery that came to mind before I could stop myself.
"That's true, of course—but thanks to it, I've been fortunate enough to receive Lady Viviana's care. You have no idea how happy I am right now."
"…"
No reply came.
Strange.
Ordinarily she would have made some show of being moved, or at the very least offered a smile. What came instead was neither laughter nor warmth—only a sharp grip of her hand.
Slap—!
"Hyaah?!"
A stinging pain bloomed across my backside, and a high cry escaped my lips. I stared at Viviana in disbelief. She was gazing blankly at her own palm, murmuring under her breath.
"…Hmm. I see."
"Pardon…?"
"It's nothing. Forgive me, Young Lady."
What was that supposed to mean?
Her ambiguous manner left me unsettled, but all I could do was smile and accept it.
"Young Lady, where did you learn to smile like that?"
"Huh—i-is it strange?"
"…No. It looks dangerous."
"Pardon?"
I asked again, unable to grasp what she meant by dangerous, but Viviana kept her silence. An awkward quiet settled between us once more.
"I've finished. Can you stand?"
"Ah, yes…"
Viviana lowered my skirt again and carefully helped me to my feet. Moving my legs sent a sharp twinge through my lower body, but it was far better than before. Top-grade ointment, indeed—the effect was remarkable.
"Thank you for your kindness, Lady Viviana."
She regarded me steadily, then fixed a smile without warmth upon her lips and held out her hand.
"I'll escort you as far as the hall."
"Pardon? Ah—no, that's all right. I'll return on my own. Please go ahead, Lady Viviana."
In this empire, Viviana was the most exalted young lady after the Imperial Princess herself. Attending the banquet at her side would set off ripples I could not begin to predict. I needed the affection of my patrons to sustain my life, but unnecessary attention was something I preferred to avoid.
"The night air will be cold. Come with me, Young Lady."
"I rather like the cold. I'll take a short walk before I go in—please go ahead, my lady."
"…"
Was it my imagination, or did Viviana's carefully maintained poker face crease ever so slightly? Perhaps she was irritated that the declining daughter of a baronial house had refused her offer.
…No. That couldn't be it.
Viviana was arrogant by nature, but she was never discriminatory. She would not look down on someone over status alone.
"Very well. It was a pleasure meeting you, Pet Young Lady. Just as the rumors said—you take to another's touch with such obedient grace."
She stressed the words Pet Young Lady, her voice laced with mockery. That wicked smile suggested she was trying to provoke me for some reason or other, but I simply held to my clear, untroubled smile.
"Thank you for thinking so kindly of me. I was honored to share time with someone as remarkable as yourself, my lady."
"…I see. Then I'll take my leave."
Apparently not the reaction she had expected. Viviana shot me a frosty look, turned on her heel, and walked out of the garden. I kept the smile on my face until she vanished completely from sight. After waiting a long while alone, I finally let out a deep sigh once I was truly by myself.
I looked up at the sky. Nothing remained but the dense, settled dark of deepest night. It was time to head home.
"…So much for tonight's banquet."
I'd been hoping I might at least come away with a jewel or two.
Tch.
Nothing to be done about it.
The grand manor of the great Ducal House of Merdelia.
When Viviana pushed open the vast entrance of the mansion, a throng of servants bowed their heads in welcome.
"Welcome home, my lady."
A dignified old man stepped forward and inclined his head in greeting. Viviana casually shrugged off her coat and handed it to him, then set off toward her study.
"Banquets really are tiresome and bothersome, aren't they."
"Did you exchange greetings with the Imperial Princess without incident?"
"Mm. She's firmly on our side now. Nothing further to worry about."
Everything was proceeding according to plan. Before long, she would secure the Imperial family's active support—and with it, the Ducal House of Merdelia would grasp even greater power.
"You have worked hard, my lady."
The old man offered a pleased smile and a gesture of respect. The moment Viviana reached her study, she sank into her chair and took a cigarette in hand.
Through the haze of smoke drifting from her lips, the old man—Alphonse—asked with eyes full of curiosity.
"How was the banquet? Was the information I provided of any use?"
"All of it was wrong, Alphonse. Apparently the white-chocolate craze has been over for ages. Dark chocolate is what's in fashion now."
The revelation that his intelligence had been faulty seemed to hit him hard; Alphonse's face clouded with dismay.
"Th-that can't be… It was the freshest information I'd only just obtained."
"And the trending color code wasn't pink—it was pink-violet-pink. Thanks to you, I became the lady lagging behind the times."
"…My deepest apologies."
Viviana wore a teasing, scornful smile as she set the cigarette between her lips once more. Watching the pure white smoke rise, she found herself recalling a soft white head of hair that had glimmered in the night.
"Ah—and I met the Pet Young Lady as well."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Just as the rumors said—an adorable, obedient young lady. Of course, whether she's truly like that or simply putting on an act with everything hidden underneath remains to be seen."
"Heh heh. If it is an act, she would be a rather frightening young lady indeed."
Indeed.
No matter how skilled the performance, without sincerity one could never truly move a person's heart. A false relationship of mutual benefit could be formed, but nothing beyond that.
And yet that woman had, by charm alone, won the favor of everyone from the daughters of renowned counts to the razor-sharp Queen of High Society herself—and made them offer her their advantages of their own accord.
If every one of her actions had been an act, it would mean she possessed the genuine ability to move hearts.
That was a power little different from hypnosis.
Well. Even so…
But that was all it was. Nothing worth fretting over.
She had approached out of sheer curiosity about that dissonant moniker—"Pet Young Lady"—in the first place. After a few exchanges, she could concede the girl was lovely enough that such a nickname was hardly surprising. But what did that have to do with her?
Her curiosity was satisfied. There was no reason to spare the girl another thought. At most, she might offer a greeting if they crossed paths again.
"Was there anything else of note?"
"Ah—and it was soft and plump."
"…Pardon? Soft and plump?"
Recalling the memory, she clenched and unclenched her palm. The red welts rising against that pure white expanse had made for quite a pleasing sight.
A bottom as white and plump as a rice cake.
I do wonder what it would taste like if I bit into it.