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Chapter 15
Without even catching her breath, panting heavily, Ranika held out a letter she had in her hands to Montoya.
“‘O-oh, it was brought by someone claiming to be a messenger from the royal family…!’”
At those words, Montoya, who had been trying to remain calm, slightly raised one eyebrow.
She was likely thinking about various possibilities upon hearing the phrase “messenger from the royal family.”
Today, Father would return home late at night.
And he worked at the royal castle.
…Yet here was a messenger coming all the way to their home.
It was easy to guess that the contents of the letter were something that couldn’t be shared where others at the castle might hear or see. Additionally, it was probably intended to be delivered to Father directly.
Montoya could probably infer that much, but—
“Do you know what’s in it?”
“N-no… But since my lady’s name comes first, followed by my husband’s… I…!”
“Could it be…!”
Montoya immediately realized why Ranika was flustered and instinctively spoke up.
Montoya had the authority to open such letters in Father’s absence.
She might not have the same authority in other households, but Montoya was granted this privilege because of the immense trust the Dripps family placed in her.
“…I’ll open it.”
“Yes…!”
Knowing this, Ranika swallowed hard without even attempting to catch her breath or wipe away the vast amount of sweat streaming down her face.
Normally, the letter shouldn’t be opened in front of Ranika, but it seemed that both of them had lost a measure of composure.
When Montoya read the letter that came out, her eyes widened greatly, and she looked up at the ceiling once.
“Montoya-san…?”
Noticing her strange behavior, Ranika spoke timidly, almost afraid.
Montoya took a deep breath, deliberately lowered her face, and read the document again, telling herself to stay calm—really, to truly stay calm.
No matter how many times she read it, the information she could glean from the text seemed to be only one thing—
“…The lady is to be notified…! It’s an urgent matter, and I am to visit her room…!”
“Understood!”
Although trying to maintain composure, Montoya’s slightly high-pitched, slightly hoarse voice issued instructions.
Ranika, bursting out of the room, would likely rush to her mother while her face continued to drip with an enormous amount of moisture.
Montoya didn’t even feel the need to scold her for leaving the door open. She reread the letter once more before standing up.
Her movements leaving the office were somewhat awkward, showing that she too had lost some composure.
Finally, reaching her mother’s room with some effort, Montoya knocked.
“Who is it?”
“Montoya.”
“Come in.”
“Excuse me.”
Montoya entered the room with determination. Seeing her, her mother narrowed her eyes.
“You seem awfully flustered.”
“The royal family sent a letter…”
“If they went so far as to send a notice in advance and you came yourself, it must be something rather serious, right?”
“Yes.”
At the mention of “royal family,” her mother tensed, taking the letter Montoya handed her.
“Ranika, who came to give the notice, was drenched in sweat from head to toe… I mean, it looked like she’d taken a bath. It must be quite a serious matter, right…?”
Her mother asked this, as if suddenly recalling it before reading the letter—a small act of escapism, perhaps.
“My apologies for that.”
“It’s fine. I know she gets flustered and can lose focus, but normally she’s very capable too.”
“I’m grateful.”
“I told her to take a bath before her next task. She might be late, but just let it slide.”
“Understood.”
Judging from Montoya and Ranika’s behavior, her mother realized it wasn’t an ordinary matter and tried to distract herself with small talk—but it quickly ended.
Once the chatter ended, her mother steeled herself and read the letter—
At that moment, a knock sounded on my box, drawing my attention away from the viewing box.
“Kachina?”
“Milady. It’s almost lunchtime. Will you be having your meal?”
“Already…?”
I pondered whether to use the box’s functions to prepare something or have the household chef bring food.
Then, a scream rang out:
“No… it can’t be…!!!!”
It was my mother—Latte Ole Dripps—screaming.
“What happened?!”
To the startled Kachina, I calmly explained:
“Lunch… will be… a little late… it seems.”
Because soon, my mother would be rushing into this room herself—
