🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter : 7
Rose quietly glanced at Ray, who was greeting Sophia’s husband, the Earl of Greenwood.
As always, the man stood perfectly straight in a fitted shirt and vest that looked untouched by even the slightest weight change.
The silver watch on his left wrist shone as usual, and every button was fastened neatly, his tie stiff and perfect as ever.
No matter how hard she tried, she still could not imagine it.
That such a stiff and unpleasant man had once been a soft little child.
“…I can’t imagine it.”
“Right? See, it’s not just me who thinks so.”
Even at Rose’s short reply, Sophia burst into cheerful laughter.
“There probably aren’t many people who’ve known Ray as long as I have. But honestly, he’s been exactly the same from then until now. I kept telling him to try living more fun, but he’d just smile and ignore me. I always wondered who would ever marry a man like that.”
The fact that she could speak to that man so casually meant they were not only old acquaintances, but extremely close as well.
According to Rose’s father, Ray Crawford had been a marriage prospect far beyond Rose’s reach.
But apparently Sophia had never thought of him that way.
“But then he ended up with such a beautiful wife. He’s lucky. Ray, Rose is much prettier in person than in the photographs.”
It seemed Sophia had also seen the newspaper photo of Rose that had appeared on the front page.
It would have been difficult for reality to look worse than that photograph anyway. In the picture, she had been standing in the street stuffing fruit into her mouth with her cheeks full.
After seeing the photograph, Agatha had gone speechless for a long time before quietly teaching Rose that eating on the street was something only uncivilized people did.
Fortunately or unfortunately, since arriving in Orthuran, Rose had not found any fruit or food delicious enough to eat immediately on the street anyway.
“…Indeed, Lady Greenwood. I must have achieved some great deed to receive such good fortune.”
With a smile that hardly looked like a smile at all, Ray Crawford replied coldly.
The manners of nobles really were impressive. That man probably thought she was the greatest misfortune of his life.
“See? He’s so rigid. Ever since I got married, he doesn’t even call me by my name anymore.”
Apparently Sophia was an exception, considering Ray did not even call his own wife by her name.
Though Rose could not blame only him. She never called him by his name either.
“I heard Duke Crawford met with the mayor of Merrillin this morning? Somehow it seems the Foreign Minister is busier with domestic affairs than even the Prime Minister or the Minister of Internal Affairs.”
The gentle-faced Earl of Greenwood smiled as he spoke to Ray.
“When people ask for help, it’s my job to answer.”
Rose unconsciously glanced at Ray as he replied quietly with his usual faint smile.
There was not even the slightest sign of fatigue on his calm face.
He had gone out early in the morning to meet the mayor of Merrillin or whoever it was, and at lunch he had apparently met the ambassador of Antaka as well.
So many people constantly sought him out that he always left at dawn and returned late at night. It was rare for him to even eat at the mansion.
Yet Rose had never once seen him yawn.
Even if the world exhausted him, he looked like someone who believed enduring it was simply his duty.
She thought she could vaguely understand now that he was not doing this work for money.
Duty.
“So why would people ask the Duke for help? Many think Archibald Avery is unfit to be Minister of Internal Affairs. Even during the by-election, only the districts where Duke Crawford personally campaigned ended up electing Conservative Party candidates.”
“What would a man who only ran newspapers know? Of course Ray had to step in.”
At Agatha’s elegant insult, Rose remembered what little her father had once told her about this family.
Ray Crawford’s maternal grandfather had been a famous war hero.
His father had also been severely wounded in war and later died from the aftereffects.
And Ray himself had gained his current fame and popularity by fighting in the war a few years ago.
That, too, must have been duty and service.
All of it still felt strange to Rose.
That a man capable of risking his life out of loyalty and duty to his country could also treat another person with such contempt and act so unpleasantly.
“But Rose.”
Sophia suddenly lowered her voice.
“There’s something I’ve been curious about…”
For some reason, Rose had a bad feeling.
“In Bolton, do people really eat snakes?”
And her feeling turned out to be correct.
It was one of the questions she had heard most often since arriving in Orthuran.
If she exaggerated a little, maybe she had heard it a hundred times already.
“Oh, Sophia.”
Agatha smiled awkwardly beside them. It sounded as though she had tried to stop her by calling her name, but Sophia’s innocent expression remained unchanged.
“But Agatha, I’m really curious. People keep talking as if it’s true…”
People in Bolton had eaten snakes about a hundred years ago during a war and famine when there had been nothing else to eat, but no one ate them anymore, to the point that even Boltons had forgotten about it.
Only after coming to Orthuran did Rose realize how wildly the story had become twisted there.
“They eat the animal closest to Satan, isn’t that horrifying?”
“Do Boltons not know the difference between what should and shouldn’t be eaten?”
She had heard all kinds of things.
The first time she heard the question, Rose had been shocked and sincerely explained everything.
But most people did not seem to believe her.
In fact, it did not even seem like they truly cared about her answer.
By the twentieth time she heard it, Rose realized the question was closer to mockery.
The snake itself was only an excuse.
An excuse to ridicule her.
Eventually Rose became tired too, and started changing her answers.
“No, only when Orthuran raises food tariffs too high.”
“You seem very interested in snake meat. You must have enjoyed it.”
Things like that.
Rose quietly looked at Sophia’s face.
She saw only curiosity there, not actual malice.
Well, Agatha and Beth had both praised Sophia endlessly as the perfect example of a wonderful lady. Surely she had not meant harm.
Then why was Rose irritated?
“Yes. Bolton has no wheat, no oats, barely any food at all.”
At the serious lie spoken without hesitation, Sophia gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Really?”
Sophia’s shocked voice became even quieter.
“Rose.”
Rose heard Agatha call her name warningly, but she continued indifferently.
“If there were plenty of food, why would people bother eating snakes?”
What she really meant was that of course no one would eat snakes if Bolton had plenty of food.
But judging by Sophia’s expression, she already seemed to imagine Bolton as some desperately poor nation.
Did people not realize by now that Bolton was a country right beside Orthuran? How could it possibly have no wheat or oats?
At this point, Rose could no longer even feel angry at how easily these people believed such nonsense about Bolton.
Unable to watch any longer, Beth interrupted.
“Sophia. Rose is joking.”
“Ah?”
Sophia let out an embarrassed sound before her cheeks turned red.
“Oh, so you don’t eat them? Whew, you really shocked me! People from Bolton must be good at jokes too. I didn’t notice at all, goodness.”
It was fortunate the matter ended with laughter, but Rose wondered how long every single thing she did would continue being interpreted with a “Bolton” label attached to it.
Even this kind of joke was not Bolton-style at all. True Boltons did not speak indirectly.
Mr. Howard from next door used to scold Rose all the time for not acting like a proper Bolton.
Yet after coming to Orthuran, even breathing the same as everyone else made people say, “That’s because she’s from Bolton.”
No matter how hard she tried to forget the traces of her homeland, people refused to let her forget.
Over the rim of her teacup, she could see Agatha’s face slightly red with anger and Ray staring silently at her with an unreadable expression.
She was getting tired of situations like this.
Holding everything in, then saying one thing, only for everyone to look at her as if she were the one in the wrong.
Suddenly, Rose became curious.
If her mother in heaven was watching all this, what would she think?
After seeing all of this, would she still firmly believe that this marriage was the greatest blessing Rose had ever received?
“Don’t make me regret teaching you piano, Rose. Please. Don’t make me regret everything I taught you. I can’t bear the thought that I raised you that way. Please, I’m begging you as your mother.”
How could a person’s final words be something like that?
How could the last thing someone said before dying be something so trivial?
Her mother had not even taken her last breath until Rose answered.
Only after Rose reluctantly said she understood did her mother finally look relieved and cross the river of death.
Shouldn’t people say more important things before they die?
Something like “I love you,” or “You made me happy.”
If it had been Rose, she would have used her remaining breath on words with more meaning than that.
