MILWTG 81

~Chapter 81~

“Mari, do you know that person?”

“I don’t. But you can tell just by looking. He’s the type who mistakes basic kindness for affection.”

Riden’s eyes widened without meaning to.

She’s figured out his character exactly?

Mari was only frustrating to deal with when it came to Ethan, but everywhere else she was sharp and refreshing.

The heroine’s insight was impressive.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“How?”

“Trust me.”

Mari’s blue eyes shone sharply as her beautiful pink hair swayed when she turned.

“Ah, wait—Mari—”

“You must be Young Master Percival of the Mackie Barony, right?”

“……”

“I’m Mari Hern of the Hern Barony. Lady McCreary has kindly taken me in, so I’ll be staying at the Count’s estate for a while.”

At her sweet greeting, Percival’s pupils widened slightly.
His gaze left her face for a moment, then returned, his lips curling faintly.

Riden bit her lip as she watched him.

Ah… I think the delusion has started, Mari. Are you sure this is okay?

Sensing Riden’s worried gaze, Mari glanced back while talking to Percival.
As if to say not to worry, she winked.

“Shall we talk outside?”

The man who had just been claiming to have a special relationship with Riden was no longer there—
Percival left the drawing room in a daze, his eyes fixed on Mari.

“The heroine’s charm really is something.”

She said she’d handle it, so Riden decided to trust her.

Left alone in the drawing room, Riden stared at the door they had gone through, her face a mix of worry and confusion.

The Duchess’s office.

Samantha looked down at the papers with concern.

“My child has… a friend?”

In her hands was information on Mari Hern, the daughter of the Hern Barony, who had recently joined the ladies’ society.

Marik, standing nearby, added more details.

“It seems the McCreary Count and Countess promised Baron Hern they would take responsibility for his daughter’s debut.”

“So our girl stepped in to fulfill that promise.”

“Yes.”

Samantha set the papers down with a loud thud.

A small smile curved her lips.

“My girl is so kind.”

“She is.”

“But Marik—”

“…?”

Samantha tapped her fingers repeatedly as if in thought.

“She’s only kind… right?”

“Mother, what do you mean by that?”

Had she found some flaw in the young lady he didn’t know about?

Marik looked quietly at Samantha.

“She’s not… a pushover, is she?”

The young lady, a pushover?

Marik and Samantha thought the same thing at the same time.

Was Riden McCreary just kind—or was she closer to being a pushover?

They answered at once.

“She’s a pushover.”

“I can’t exactly say she’s not…”

From their point of view, Riden could sometimes be surprisingly sharp, but most of the time she walked around like an easy target.

Samantha clicked her tongue.

“Just think of how she curled up like a bean bug in front of that petty viscountess’s wife—she has to be a pushover.”

“Mother, if you compare everyone to you, everyone would be a pushover.”

Samantha gave Marik a side glance and clicked her tongue again.

“And look here.”

“…”

“We’ve been keeping her from leaving, using the excuse of the grace period before ending the contract, and she quietly lets us, doing everything we ask. She’s definitely a pushover—my favorite kind of pushover.”

“Wow.”

Marik said in a calm voice.

“It’s scary hearing you admit that yourself, Mother. At least pretend otherwise.”

Samantha looked at him with mild disbelief.

“You’re the one who suggested not letting her go under that excuse.”

Marik’s eyes curved softly.

“So… what if she is a pushover? Do you think that’s a problem, Mother?”

Samantha’s face cooled instantly.

“When a flower attracts pests, is it the flower’s fault? You have to get rid of them.”

Marik immediately understood.
She was telling him to find out whether the young lady from the barony—who had suddenly come to live with Riden—was a flower or a pest.

“That’s a bit much, Mother.”

Samantha’s eyes narrowed sharply at his unexpected refusal.

“If the young lady ever finds out you investigated her friend… hmm.”

“If she finds out?”

With genuine concern, Marik said:

“Then I’ll have Norman invent a new trauma gauge that measures up to level 20.”

“…”

“I wonder how high it would go.”

My own child, but his way of speaking is really annoying sometimes.

Samantha turned her gaze from Marik and fiddled with the ladies’ society papers again.

His point was reasonable.
If they were caught investigating, Riden would obviously be displeased.

But still…

“They’re not truly friends yet, are they? She’s just trying to take responsibility in place of her parents.”

“No one knows for sure.”

But, but still!

She looks too much like a pushover—it won’t do.

Leaving a child who lost her parents and was alone in the world felt unsafe.

Samantha gave Marik an order.

“The ladies’ society sent an invitation to the young lady from the barony, and it seems Riden will be accompanying her. It must be the welcome party.”

Whenever new young ladies joined before their debut, the society would hold a welcome party for them.

Samantha herself had attended one long ago.

“Now that I think of it, that was a fun memory.”

The members had wanted to welcome her enthusiastically, so she had taken the time to personally teach them how to properly welcome royalty from the Western Empire.

“In any case, look into it more and keep an eye on things.”

When Riden and Mari got out of the carriage, the White Count’s butler came to greet them.

Without a word, Mari handed over the invitation.

“Please follow me.”

The butler led them to the garden.

Under a huge parasol, a table was set for a picnic.

Phew, thank goodness.

Riden had been worried because she couldn’t remember if the original welcome party had been in the greenhouse or the garden.

A glass greenhouse in this blazing sun?

She had no wish to be steamed alive.

“Welcome.”

One of the young ladies at the round table stood, and the others followed.

A young lady who seemed to be the leader stepped forward to greet them.

“I’m Rosalie White of the White Count’s family. Was your trip comfortable?”

Mari, meeting her eyes warmly, greeted her first.

“Thank you for inviting me. I’m Mari Hern of the Hern Barony. Please call me Mari.”

Then Riden gave a light nod.

“I’m Riden  McCreary of the McCreary Count’s family. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Someone whispered quietly:

“That’s the one from the rumors?”

“Yes, her.”

Rosalie, still smiling at Riden and Mari, silenced the unnecessary chatter without changing her expression.

“Lady Dorothy, the introductions aren’t finished yet, are they?”

“Ah, yes! My apologies.”

With the tense atmosphere broken, they finished greeting the rest of the young ladies.

Adel’s here too?

Among them was Adel, a supporting character who would later help Mari.

“Shall we sit?”

The attendants watching from a distance came forward to pull out the young ladies’ chairs.

As they sat, Mari naturally reached for her own chair.

All eyes focused on her.

“Lady Mari, don’t you have an attendant?”

“Ah.”

Only then did Mari realize that everyone else had an attendant helping them and hadn’t even touched their chairs themselves.

Her face flushed bright red.

Oh no.

Riden, who had gotten used to being waited on after living between the Count’s and Duke’s estates, had forgotten to pay attention to this detail.

Not all nobles had many servants—and especially not a poor baron’s daughter like Mari.

I should have been more careful.

The blue-haired young lady who had asked quickly added a half-hearted excuse.

“Oh, if I offended you, I’m sorry. I’ve never lived without attendants, so I didn’t think about it.”

She had a smirk on her lips as she exchanged looks with the other young ladies.

How childish.

Riden looked at Mari with concern.

Huh?

But Mari’s lips were also curved upward, just like those young ladies who were mocking her.