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Chapter : 12
“I will do so.”
“Yes. I also brought a gift for the young duke.”
The two of them sprang up from their chairs.
Fabrice’s face was positively radiant, clearly delighted to see Cedric.
Helene, too, wore a gentle, irrepressible smile, like that of an aunt meeting her youngest nephew.
But the smile vanished the moment they stepped out the door.
“Oh my, have you finally finished talking? Good day to you, Margrave Hill. I am called Lusana. Cough, cough. Though lacking, I attend upon Princess Marianne.”
From down the corridor, Lusana came running toward them, a thick fur cloak draped over her shoulders. She must have been waiting in the hallway for quite some time—her cheeks were flushed red.
Seeing her give small coughs as well, it looked like she might fall seriously ill in a few days. It was a pitiful sight, but Helene seemed to see nothing pitiful about it at all.
“…Pleased to meet you, young lady of the marquis’s house.”
Helene replied curtly, her expression and voice flat, then closed her lips. For her, this already required tremendous patience.
The daughter cherished by Marquis Biarritz—who was effectively a core member of the imperial faction—was herself of the imperial faction, and surely an agent acting under the First Prince’s orders.
Considering Helene’s temperament—she was someone who had openly warned even the princess—it was fortunate, if anything, that she hadn’t drawn her sword on the spot.
“We are on our way to see the young duke, so we shall meet again another time.”
Fabrice, who had been anxiously worried that the margrave might reach for her sword, hurriedly chimed in, desperately forcing up the corners of his mouth.
It was a purely professional smile, one in which not even half a handful of soul could be felt—but it did prevent the atmosphere from turning icy.
“Th-then, may I follow along to see the young duke as well? Of course, I won’t say a single word! Like firewood inside a fireplace—no, like dust floating in the air!”
That sounded awfully familiar.
This time, Lusana pleaded with an even more desperate expression than before. She even clasped her hands together, looking as though she might kneel in the corridor if they said no.
However, Marianne had no intention whatsoever of taking Lusana to Cedric’s room.
It would only make everyone uncomfortable—why bother?
“Lusana.”
“Yes, yes! Princess!”
“I’m sorry, but there’s something I need you to do. Could you go to the temple and obtain some holy water?”
“…Pardon?”
“Perhaps because it’s nearly the season for snowfall, the young duke has been quite unstable these past few days. After consulting with the margrave, we decided it would be absolutely necessary to prevent any possible rampage. And the only person I can entrust with such an important task is you, Lusana.”
Hearing Marianne’s unexpectedly gentle voice, Lusana blinked like a broken doll. Before she could recover from her confusion, Marianne unilaterally wrapped up the conversation.
“Warm yourself by the fireplace for a bit before you set off.”
“…Y-yes! Understood!”
A half beat late, Lusana nodded. After bowing to the three of them, she hurriedly left the corridor.
Only after Lusana’s figure had completely disappeared did Marianne turn and apologize to the Hill family.
“I’m sorry. I made up a bad story about Cedric’s condition on my own.”
“Not at all. I would rather say it was an excellent response. Feeding false information to an agent can throw their very thinking into disarray.”
Despite the lie having been told without any prior discussion, Helene and Fabrice didn’t seem particularly bothered by it.
If anything, Fabrice looked pleased at the prospect of disrupting the information that would reach Louis. Helene, whose expression was slightly darker than her brother’s, added calmly,
“…And it is true that the young duke’s health worsens around the time heavy snow falls, so it isn’t entirely incorrect.”
“Ah…”
Marianne nodded with some difficulty.
Cedric’s illness must be because the day his parents were executed coincided with the season of heavy snowfall.
As if by unspoken agreement, the three of them remained silent until they reached Cedric’s room. In the subdued corridor, only the sound of the cold winter wind battering noisily against the windows echoed.
“U? U!”
Fortunately, the atmosphere improved as soon as they met Cedric. He had been looking at a picture book, and when he heard the door open, he lifted his head and welcomed them.
“I hope you have been well, young duke.”
“Good day to you, young duke. Oh my, is that a picture book? It is truly fortunate that Her Highness the Princess has shown such care.”
“U!”
As if he understood what Fabrice was saying, Cedric cried out again, then hugged the picture book tightly as though it were a treasure.
“It’s not just the book. There’s plenty of firewood in the fireplace now, and the clothes the young duke is wearing are much thicker as well. All of this is… thanks to the grace of Her Highness the Princess.”
Helene’s normally flat voice sounded slightly damp.
She, too, must have wanted to fully supply the ducal residence. But if caring for the young duke were misconstrued as treason against the emperor and she were eliminated, there would be no one left to look after Cedric—so she must have kept it all buried inside.
Is it really right to call it ‘grace’ when it’s the daughter of the one who took everything returning it?
That thought crossed Marianne’s mind, but she didn’t voice it. Instead, she awkwardly lifted the corners of her mouth and quietly sat down beside Cedric.
“The young duke has been resting comfortably. I will prepare some tea.”
“That won’t be necessary for me. I intend only to give the young duke his gift and then take my leave.”
At Helene’s shake of the head, Fabrice, who had raised his hand, lowered it again with an awkward expression. He gave a small cough and placed the bundle he had brought onto the table.
“Young Duke Cedric. Since the weather has grown very cold, I brought you a blanket. With the fireplace working so diligently, you may not need it much, but please use it when the wind is strong.”
Inside the crinkly paper wrapping was, just as Fabrice said, a pure white fur blanket. It was quite large, as though an entire animal hide had been processed into it.
“U?”
“Go on, touch it. It’s very soft.”
He pushed it closer so that Cedric could reach it easily. The boy hesitated for a moment, still unfamiliar with it, and couldn’t bring himself to extend his hand. No—he almost seemed to be avoiding it.
Strangely enough, his face held rejection—and even a faint fear.
Fear?
Marianne searched her memory in puzzlement. Then she recalled a scene from the novel: when Cedric’s mind had partially recovered, he had suffered at the sight of a white cloak sent down from the imperial family.
The reason was… snow.
More precisely, it was because the snow-covered white fields resembled the place where the tragedy had occurred.
“Cedric.”
“Uu…”
Marianne called out to him, drawing the attention of the boy who was frowning slightly between the brows. She then asked Fabrice for permission with her eyes, picked up the blanket, and brushed its edge with her palm.
“Unlike snow, it’s not cold, and it doesn’t melt. See?”
As she spoke, touching it once, twice, showing him it was safe, Cedric finally mustered some courage.
He poked at the blanket with his fingertips, and when nothing happened, he awkwardly extended his palm just as Marianne had.
“U, au!”
“Ah… So it was the color white that frightened you. How careless of me. I only wanted to give you the warmest blanket and failed to be considerate. I apologize, young duke.”
Fabrice apologized, rubbing the back of his head. Then he looked at Marianne with shining eyes. The admiration in his gaze was rather burdensome, so Marianne shook her head.
“I only guessed because he was afraid even though he knew it was a blanket.”
Unable to tell the truth, she brushed it off. Fabrice smiled kindly, like an uncle looking at a modest niece.
“But even though you have only been at the ducal residence for a few days, you noticed the young duke’s feelings. Such consideration and respect are not things just anyone can show.”
“I agree with Fabrice. Her Highness the Princess is truly… broad-minded, and warm-hearted as well—a most admirable person.”
Seeing Helene speak with genuine admiration, Marianne let out a hollow laugh inwardly.
No, I’m just an extra with a bit more information than others because I read the novel—and I was originally a villainess, at that.
Of course, there was no way she could reveal the truth, so there was no way to clear up their misunderstanding either.
Aside from pricking her conscience, the misunderstanding that Marianne took good care of Cedric was actually helpful, so she chose to remain quietly silent.
“Then we shall take our leave. The wind is growing stronger, and that bodes ill.”
After checking outside the window, Fabrice rose from his seat, his satisfied smile fading. Helene stood as well and added in a low voice,
“I will also send along items to help the knights endure the cold. And the count will visit within a few days.”
“Thank you for everything, Margrave Hill. Aide Hill.”
Marianne smiled softly. Following her lead, the margrave of Hill curved his lips into a faint smile and bowed formally.
“Young Duke. Your Highness the Princess. May you remain in good health through this harsh winter.”
Fabrice bowed together with Helene, leaving behind a gentle farewell, and the two of them departed the residence—urging their horses onward while glancing back several times, in case an early snowstorm might strike.
Unlike their previous visit, Marianne saw them off while rubbing the tip of her nose against the chill in the air.
Winter—the most difficult season in the north—was just around the corner.
And as winter approached, Marianne recalled one of the things she absolutely had to do.
