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Chapter : 30
Grown Dull.
“Madam… the head of the household has arrived.”
Chloe hurriedly pulled her hands away from the embroidery frame.
“You wretch! At least make some noise when you walk!”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“He’s here?”
The maid bowed deeply. Chloe cradled the finger she’d pricked with the needle. The maids applied medicine generously.
Though the hierarchy of Tutergai had collapsed with the death of the sickly mistress, a new order had formed here—one built by a mistress and an illegitimate child.
“Well, Madam… the master has been drinking, so… it would be better to see him later, once he’s sobered up.”
“Drinking again? Why?”
There was a commotion outside. Fear flickered in the maids’ eyes. Chloe pushed past them and went outside.
“Where is he?”
“He’s—he’s outside.”
“Stop stuttering and speak properly!”
“Still, Madam, it would be better not to see him. Madam! Madam!”
Just as the maid grabbed Chloe in panic, Pyotr burst into the room, drenched in alcohol and clutching a bottle. He flung the servants to the floor and poured the liquor straight into his mouth. The servants scrambled out of the way.
“Master, please calm down.”
“Where is that child?”
Pyotr whipped his head around.
“Where is Sharlov!”
“The young lady is no longer in this house.”
“Ah… that’s right. She’s gone now.”
Pyotr swallowed a hiccup.
“Why does my stomach burn like this?”
The mother and daughter were irritating whether they were in front of his eyes or out of sight. When they were in his hands, he couldn’t discard them; now that they were in someone else’s, it gnawed at his pride.
“Father, have you returned?”
Pyotr raised his head at the call. Henrietta stood before him, her small body hunched, her shoulders trembling. Clicking his tongue, he pressed down on her shoulder.
“I told you to hide those vulgar habits… Your attitude affects my reputation.”
Ignored again. Just as his dead wife had ignored him, just as his daughter did.
Pyotr hurled the bottle to the floor. Clang—a sharp shattering sound rang out. The servants bowed low, avoiding the shards.
“Don’t do things that let your sister look down on you. Tsk, tsk! Her mother knelt and begged… that girl lived like a parasite too… I thought I had everything, but she was my daughter too.”
Such violent language was unbecoming of someone who was now an elder of the imperial family. Henrietta lowered her head. This household is strange. It’s strange, Mother.
“Young lady, please go to your room.”
The butler waved the servants away and whispered.
“The master has had too much to drink. Please go inside.”
Pyotr staggered off, growing more distant.
“Useless fellow.”
Henrietta tugged at her mother’s sleeve.
“M-Mother…”
“When your father drinks, he becomes violent. It’s not because he hates you. So listen well to him, and apply yourself—again and again.”
Henrietta bowed her head under the grip on her shoulder. Mother, I preferred it before we came to this house. I liked it better when it was just the two of us.
“Father dug another grave.”
Even to a young son, his father’s strange behavior had worsened.
Smack! Chloe struck Henrietta’s cheek harshly. Henrietta groaned, clutching her reddened face.
“Watch your mouth.”
The butler avoided her gaze.
Chloe looked around the empty grave. It felt as though traces of the former wife lingered in the estate, continuing to torment them. You’re dead. You died, so it should be over. Then disappear already.
“Bad luck.”
Chloe signaled to the butler.
“Remove the tombstone.”
“…Madam.”
“Dig up that soil and throw it away too. It’s filthy.”
Thud, thud—it felt like stepping into a dark, damp marsh.
“Your Majesty. Are you listening? Your Majesty?”
Sharlov waved a hand to show she was listening.
The banquet hall was set for dinner. Appetizing dishes filled the table, attendants bustling as steam rose from the food.
“I will have all the attendants withdraw.”
The head attendant ushered them all out.
In the dining room sat the imperial couple and the Windsor guests. As the imperial family favored light fare, the dishes were prepared without strong spices.
Watching the doors close, Aster spoke.
“The nation’s finances have finally stabilized. I thought it would take several more years to recover. No wonder people were saying aides were dropping dead in the antechambers.”
“So many people followed into state affairs—if we were still floundering, what then? They should all resign and go back to the countryside.”
Benjamin swallowed a crude curse, loosening his cravat sharply, as if stifled.
“But—is the food not to your taste?”
Sharlov’s knife scraped against the plate.
“No. I’ve eaten a lot.”
“A lot? The food hardly seems to be decreasing.”
Benjamin took some food from the plate and offered it on his fork—an act far removed from palace etiquette.
“I’ll eat it.”
“Planning to just stare at the food all day?”
“I was about to.”
Aster glanced at Sharlov’s plate and muttered,
“Mushrooms… ahem, pick up the mushrooms. Ahem.”
Benjamin speared a piece of button mushroom. It had been lightly grilled, simply scored, without sauce. As Sharlov took a bite, it was soft in her mouth. Aster smiled, then masked it with a neutral expression.
“Our family has simple tastes. We like light sauces that preserve the natural flavor. Mild seasoning—we don’t particularly enjoy strong flavors.”
“I’ll let the chef know.”
“The mushroom’s texture is soft and springy, almost like meat. It would pair well with shredded chicken.”
Clearing his throat, Aster continued.
“By the way, Your Majesty.”
Looking at Benjamin, he asked,
“The palace gates were in some turmoil early this morning. What happened?”
“The gates… ah, that?”
Benjamin nodded.
“I received a report this morning. For several days now, someone’s been coming to the gates asking for me. I told them to report to me again if the person returned.”
“So it’s been a few days.”
“About three? If they come every day, we should at least ask why. But those idiots chased them off just by looking at their appearance, so I never heard the reason.”
Sharlov quietly closed her eyes.
Is it already that time?
Benjamin looked down at her and added more mushrooms to her plate.
“Finished?”
“I ate a lot.”
“Just that little on your side plate?”
Aster tore some smoked chicken and placed it on Sharlov’s plate.
“You need to eat a lot to have strength. Eat this too. And that. Cosette had a small appetite as a child, so we used to pile food onto her plate.”
Aster added asparagus and smiled.
“Please, eat well.”
Thus, the meal ended.
Sharlov saw the Windsors off. The servants were dismissed. Someone draped a heavy shawl over her shoulders. Leandro patted her shoulder with his wrinkled hand, his steady gaze resting on the back of her head.
“As your maternal grandfather, may I speak to you a bit informally?”
“Please do—there’s no need to ask.”
Leandro linked arms with her.
“The wind is cold. Be careful not to catch a cold.”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
“If a newly married child looks gloomy, would the family’s feet turn easily away?”
Sharlov shook her head.
“Listen well. There are days I serve you as an elder of the imperial family, and days I think of you as a child. Even so, our relationship doesn’t change…”
Find your balance, as he had said again and again.
“Take care.”
His calloused grip was rough, as if showing the harsh years he had endured.
“Usually, the consummation date is received separately at the temple…”
Sharlov trailed off.
“I’ll help brush your hair.”
She let the maids tend to her. They placed lily-of-the-valley in her hair and dressed her in her nightgown, its hem falling loosely.
Her neckline was delicately exposed, hair swept back. The long hair swaying below her hips created an enigmatic mood.
“Do you need anything else?”
“Bring some spirits.”
“Pardon?”
“His Majesty often looks for spirits before sleeping. Bring any—one bottle, unopened.”
The head maid fetched the liquor the emperor often drank.
“Then please rest well.”
As Sharlov lit the candle on the table, she saw the bottle beside it. She popped a cherry into her mouth and uncorked it. A bitter scent rose.
Knock, knock.
Benjamin, in a robe, knocked on the bedroom door.
“I hear you were looking for spirits?”
“It looks better if the emperor asks rather than the empress. You seem to drink strong liquor often—the head maid brought it quite naturally.”
Benjamin nodded.
“I did, often.”
“…”
“But not straight from the bottle like you, Sharl.”
Sharlov tipped the bottle and poured it directly into her mouth.
“Pretending to be refined is a bit difficult.”
If wine was a gentle fruit liquor, this was just alcohol.
It was vicious. As it flowed down her throat, it burned.
“It’s strong—did you drink it often?”
“Perhaps. Just as it seems trivial to you now, it must have been the same for me.”
“If that’s the case, I’ve nothing to say.”
Sharlov rolled the liquor on her tongue. Gulp. As she swallowed, the harsh aroma stung her nose.
“So the saying about never picking a fight with the Windsor family at a drinking table wasn’t for nothing.”
She drank that liquor down, gulp after gulp—something that would leave grown men sprawled after only a few glasses.
The Windsors would recoil and try to stop her, but Sharlov calmly shook the bottle and offered it to Benjamin.
“Don’t stare so hard.”
She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. The warmth of intoxication crept in. When she tousled her hair, a faint soap scent spread.
“Were the past days hard?”
“Even if they were, it’s not a position where showing it would help.”
“You’ve taken a tiring seat. Even if there were no other choices.”
Benjamin took the bottle and drank. The spirits were now familiar.
“There were no other choices—that’s why I’m here.”
“If there had been another choice, would it have been different?”
“Well. I don’t think it would have been particularly different.”
He trailed off, murmuring.
“I’ve grown fairly numb by now, but lately my thoughts are tangled.”
“Did something happen?”
Benjamin took another sip. One sip became two.
“Well. Nothing happened.”
He shook the bottle—already empty. He pulled another from the cabinet, this one a silver flask. When he opened it, the scent of liquor seeped out.
“It’s just that… my chest feels stifled.”
Benjamin quietly closed his eyes.
