Chapter 10
“Are you trying to go outside the main gate, my lady? Forgive me. I, a mere servant, have no right to interfere in your affairs, but… well, many things have happened, haven’t they?”
“……”
“How long will you be staying out? Forgive me if I overstep, but… surely you’re not planning to go into the forest, are you? Ah, my apologies. But if anything were to happen, it would be lowly people like me who get punished, wouldn’t it? Forgive me, my lady.”
That gatekeeper, Pero, who dared to utter such things to me, was actually close to Ophelia.
With the same bitter face as if he had chewed something foul, he would nag at his master’s younger sister. But when Ophelia would salute him with a sloppy “Loyalty!” and a crooked bow, the man would burst into easy, foolish laughter. Perhaps stupidity was contagious. At such times, I hated Ophelia Leora twice as much.
“Just wait until you come back. I’ll starve you for dinner.”
To think I came outside for that idiot’s sake. Blaming myself for such foolishness, I was about to return into the manor when someone—so dazzling against this dull countryside air, almost glittering—spoke to me.
“May I have a word?”
Bellarusia could not, until then, clearly distinguish her emotions between displeasure and satisfaction. But the feeling she had in that moment was utterly unlike anything she had felt before.
What was that?
A fierce intensity that twisted her heart. It was not the kind of thing one could lazily dismiss or shove aside.
Was it that she had seen him? Or was it that he had seized her gaze and pulled it toward him?
She felt like an arrow suddenly drawn taut and aimed. The target—was that silver-haired man. She had no choice but to keep her eyes open and look at him.
Every nerve in her body whispered from behind: That man, that wretch…
But the impulse that followed, Bellarusia could not decode.
Only when the man finally vanished from sight did the air around her seem to return to normal. It was like her lungs were released from a hand that had been gripping them.
It was horribly unpleasant. And yet those eyes—were terribly beautiful.
“Bella, my precious little sister. You saw clearly who just arrived, didn’t you?”
Her elder brother, dressed more flamboyantly than she had ever seen him, called out.
They shared the same black hair and blue eyes, but their faces were quite different. Today, the count looked far more puffed up than when meeting any minor provincial noble in the west.
“It was His Highness the Crown Prince.”
“Indeed. Then you must know what you have to do from now on.”
“…What am I supposed to do?”
“Oh, dear sister! After all the times I’ve shouted it into your ears, you still don’t know? Tsk, tsk…”
The count dragged his younger sister before a mirror.
“Look—at your beauty. You grew up only within this narrow estate, so you may not realize it, but your beauty is not only the finest in Honwood, it would rival anyone even in the capital.”
Whether her appearance was good or bad, Bellarusia considered it as trivial as insects flying outside the window.
They existed, made noise, but she felt nothing about them.
Only—what she had just witnessed in the Crown Prince—that was something different.
“Even your little maid is pretty enough, but when she stands next to you, she only makes you shine brighter.”
Her dull eyes in the silver mirror suddenly sharpened, and she glanced sideways at her brother.
“…Why is that fool even here?”
But her scornful gaze and words bounced off the count, who was intoxicated by his own dreams.
To him, that lowborn maid was no different from a fly outside the window.
“Do you understand? Any man who sees you will have no choice but to fall for you. At dinner, you must catch his eye. Speak to him. With such a fine weapon as your beauty, you would be a fool not to use it. Win him over. Bring glory to your brother and this house. Ah, and wouldn’t it be nice if you also found love?”
Love?
Bellarusia sneered. Love, to her, weighed as little as appearance. Yet, unlike appearance, it was like a fly that constantly pounded against her window—annoying, because someone kept nagging about it.
“Bella, one day you’ll fall in love.”
Strangely, whenever that fool said such things, his face looked even more foolish than usual.
“A love so strong that the life you’ve known and the world you’ve understood will all change. Just seeing that person will warm your heart, and you’ll want to give them anything just to make them happy.”
Here we go again.
“By love, do you mean those silly books you buy from the bookstore? Three for a silver coin?”
Back then, stacks of ridiculous novels had been piled up next to Ophelia.
“Ahem, well, yes, those books also talk about love, but… that’s not all of it.”
The fool, embarrassed, had tried to hide the heap of books behind him.
[“After Escaping the Obsessive Duke’s Bed, Now It’s the Mad Tyrant’s Turn…”]
The title was so long it didn’t even fit on the cover, which was sloppily smeared in garish red. Suspicious indeed. For such a fool.
With his face a little red, the fool flipped the book over and changed the subject.
“If, just if, you wanted someone so badly that you wanted to break them or lock them away—that’s wrong. If you love someone, even if things don’t go your way, you must let them be well.”
“Not interested. Go back to your silly books.”
The fool was persistent because he was a fool.
“Love isn’t just between a man and a woman. For example—I love you too!”
It was truly an exasperating memory. His face had radiated such foolishness it felt contagious. Bella recoiled in disgust.
“I hate you.”
“That’s okay. Even if you don’t care now… one day, you’ll understand everything. So there’s no need to rush. We still have a lot of time ahead of us.”
His eyes, when speaking of the future, were dreamy. He acted like he would cling to her side forever. Bella shuddered and snapped:
“Shut up!”
Ophelia Leora, whose brains had rotted from babbling about love, even sang love songs—
While shaking the sheets, cleaning the room, wandering the garden. Ah, how she had loathed that sound!
Even when she covered her ears and shut her windows, the echo of that voice lingered.
So, she concluded one thing: love was foolish. Something she never wanted to go near.
If she thought about it, her brother was more stupid than wise. But he, at least, never indulged in such foolishness as Ophelia did—he always calculated the profit first.
So she dismissed her brother’s words about love lightly.
Still, she admitted this much: the Crown Prince was unexpected.
Before entering the banquet hall, Bellarusia pondered the emotions that had shaken her.
“Bella, the clearer you understand your feelings, the better.”
At times, that fool’s words had some use.
Like an arrow, sharp and taut like a drawn bowstring. A feeling that, if ignored, would scratch her insides raw; if grasped, could stab the other.
If Ophelia’s words were true, then this was not love. Not in the slightest. It was rather…
Bellarusia carefully pulled a shape out of her tangled emotions.
“…I want it.”
Saying it aloud made it clearer. That body, like it was carved from moonlight. Every drop of blood, every flicker in his eyes—all mine.
“You are practically the princess of Honwood, my sister. If you want something on this earth, you must have it.”
But if she could not have it—she would wound it, draw its blood. That blood would be red. His eyes, imperial violet. If she stabbed those eyes and made them bleed, perhaps…
Bellarusia thought of the fragrance of well-aged wine.
Spilling his blood would be more valuable than bottling the finest vintage. She wanted to stab him—with her own hands.
Though she had never killed anyone herself, though she had often become like a beast of prey at night, she felt she could kill him. It would bring her joy.
“Bella, whatever you want, you can do. I’ll help you.”
Even if Ophelia wasn’t trustworthy, he was still better than her brother.
“My lady, it’s time to depart.”
A servant came in place of Ophelia. Bellarusia curled her lips into a seductive smile.
I’ve found something I want, you fool.
Ah… what is this?
In the end, I spent the night sleepless and returned again through the count’s front gates. Pero, on shift change with the daytime guards, greeted me with a yawn.
“Thought you’d take a few days off, but you’re back right away?”
“Haha, it turned out that way.”
“Haahm. You sure have it hard at such a young age. Do your best. And make sure to reconcile with the young lady.”
“Yes, yes. Of course.”
The sun had barely risen, but the servants of the manor were already at their tasks.
“Ophelia? Where on earth have you been?”
“Ophelia! Oh, you brat! Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?”
“Ha, haha. I’m sorry. Did I make everyone worry? I’m fine, really. I just sneaked off for a nap. Ah, truly, I’m sorry. But I’m okay. Oh! Miss Rasmin, shouldn’t you be fetching water from the well right now?”
Even with my hood pulled down, people kept recognizing me everywhere and striking up conversation—it was quite troublesome.
Damn it, is it this cloak? I had liked this single navy cloak for being both pretty and sturdy, with neatly trimmed edges…
