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Chapter 33
“Even if you’re a sheltered young lady who dislikes people, can’t you at least say thank you?”
Staying silent like this probably isn’t good, right…?
Miss Rutsura isn’t opening her mouth, but she’s wearing a nasty, smug grin.
Come to think of it, ever since she explained how I was brought here, Miss Rutsura hasn’t said a word.
Because she understands that I’m the Duke of Dripps’ daughter, she’s probably refraining from careless remarks that could later be used against her—that sort of thing, I suppose.
If that’s the case, then those who are freely saying whatever they like must be thinking that a convenient punching bag has shown up, someone they can vent on without worrying about the other party’s status.
Hmm… well, let’s record this, at least.
Prince Siphon would probably like this kind of thing.
And I should send a message via the delivery box as well.
《For some reason, I was brought to a publicly open salon where young ladies are holding a tea party》
—There.
I hope Prince Siphon notices.
“I have heard that you are extremely shy and poor at conversation.
But could you at least show us your face?
Or is your dislike of people so severe that you can’t even do that?”
While I’m doing various things inside the box, Miss Rutsura, perhaps having lost her patience, says that.
It sounds considerate on the surface, but she’s clearly intent on finding fault with me, isn’t she?
If I don’t show my face or give my name, snide remarks and rumors will surely spread—Is someone that ill-mannered really the prince’s fiancée?—that sort of thing.
Well, even if I do show my face, the result would be the same if I can’t properly speak…
Still, if I’m to face reality, I need to respond somehow—but—
This is a problem.
I know I should react in some way, but the moment I try, my heart starts pounding unpleasantly.
It’s completely different from when I tried to show my bare face to Prince Siphon—this rapid pounding feels like it’s cornering me myself.
Even though I think I have to do something, my thoughts refuse to come together at all.
It keeps getting worse, until I can’t think of anything anymore.
“…Ah.”
Even so, I force my throat to tremble, trying somehow to get a voice out, but all that comes is a hoarse, breath-like sound.
Unpleasant sweat begins to run down.
A sensation almost like compulsion, that I must react.
The impatience of trying to respond, yet having no voice come out.
“…Ah… ah…!”
Bang! Someone slams on the box.
Normally I wouldn’t even notice, but this time my body jerks violently in response.
I have to… I have to do something…
“Hah… hah… hah…”
Without realizing it, my breathing has grown rough.
Unconsciously, I’m clenching both hands into fists.
I’m scared… it hurts… I feel like I’m going to throw up… I want to cry…
I was never good at talking to people to begin with, and after my book was taken from me during the magic ceremony, that became the trigger for a reclusive life.
And now, to be made to feel like this again because of Miss Rutsura’s harassment…
Back then, it was in a place where my status couldn’t be revealed, and she was just getting carried away.
But here, even with my status known, she’s still harassing me…
…Huh?
While recalling those unpleasant memories, something suddenly caught my attention.
…Do these people actually know who I am?
The moment that small question arose, it felt as though my field of vision opened up.
All I could think was I have to react, I have to react, without knowing how I should react—and maybe that vagueness was exactly why I couldn’t do anything.
Speaking up takes courage, but still—
What comes to mind is a story I love dearly.
In The Adventure Inside the Wooden Box, when Jaba, the protagonist, was surrounded by soldiers of an evil kingdom and in dire straits, the moment he found a single ray of hope, he had the courage to step forward and leap into it.
…Perhaps this is a moment where I, too, should borrow even a little of that courage.
Besides, this is exactly the sort of situation where Mother would say, “If you can’t handle even this, what will you do?”—so I have to overcome it.
More than anything, simply waiting for Prince Siphon or Kachina to come rescue me would become material for people to say that I’m not befitting a royal wife.
Slowly, I loosen the fists I had been clenching so tightly.
I place one of my sweaty hands against my chest and take a big, deep breath.
Kachina once told me that an unbroken smile can be a weapon.
A graceful smile at all times—even if the other party can’t see my face.
Before I became a shut-in, I was able to fend off this level of sarcasm and harassment.
All I need to do now is remember how. My mind and wit should be sharper than they were back then!
Now then, with this face equipped with my weapon—my smile—
let’s take a step toward that single ray of light, carrying a little of the protagonist’s courage with me
