TPB 2

Chapter: 2

If the young lady of this house hadn’t been on good terms with her cousin Emily during their third year since debut, she would have had no choice but to give up staying at her aunt’s house this time.

Thus, she knew better than anyone that, in the eyes of Mrs. Hinton, the mistress of the house, and the servants, there could be no more outrageous troublemaker than herself.

Natalie, with her conscience intact, slowly made her way to the breakfast room, understanding the pointed looks she received with a curious mixture of guilt and amusement.

The room on the first floor of the mansion, bathed in the best sunlight, sometimes doubled as a parlor, so Mrs. Hinton paid special attention to it.

In the middle of that cozy, flower-filled room stood a long rectangular table. And as usual, on top of it…

“Oh dear.”

The young lady with dark brown hair was sprawled face-down on the table. Seeing her like that made it even easier to understand why the servants scowled at her.

She was a real troublemaker. A genuine nuisance.

Natalie, giggling a little, greeted her beloved cousin at breakfast.

“Good morning, Emily.”

“Good morning, Natalie.”

Emily lifted her head slightly and replied. Her light brown eyes, dim and unalert, and her cracked, groggy voice were hardly ladylike. Of course, Natalie wasn’t exactly different.

“Actually… I’m not feeling well. I feel like I’m going to die.”

“Well, we’re getting older. Next time, no matter how much fun it is, let’s take the carriage home by midnight.”

Emily spoke the truth straight away, and Natalie, making a joke that Mrs. Hinton would have disapproved of, took her seat.

The servants believed that all of the young lady’s excessive entertainment and delayed marriage were Natalie’s fault, but in reality, Natalie was just being dragged along by Emily.

Not that she minded. Following Emily, the city-bred young lady who knew how to have fun, was quite exciting for a country noble girl.

She thought, this is a chance to enjoy herself; once she has that vaguely looming marriage, she might not be able to play like this again.

“Just cold water and cold soup for me.”

A maid responded quickly to Natalie’s order with, “Yes, Miss Dows,” and left the breakfast room.

Meanwhile, the butler appeared carrying a pile of letters. Placing the letters addressed to Mrs. Hinton, who hadn’t come down yet, in front of her, he handed the rest to Emily and Natalie in turn.

Most letters for the young ladies were invitations to balls.

Emily, unusually, didn’t move even after glancing at the invitations. Perhaps the hangover was so severe that she had no interest in checking them today.

But Natalie was different. Every day, she awaited letters.

At the same time, she held no real hope. For months, she had been disappointed every time she expected something. Mechanically, she began flipping through the letters of varying sizes.

Then, her hand stopped. Natalie’s eyes widened in surprise, and her voice, full of excitement, finally burst out.

“Oh my… oh my, oh my! Really?”

“…Surprised? Did you even get an invitation from the Duchess of Horace?”

Balls hosted by the Duchess of Horace were considered the finest in Dwan. Naturally, not just anyone could be invited. A country baroness’s daughter or a gentry-class young lady could only dream of attending.

“What use are invitations from the Duchess of Horace?”

“Then what is it?”

“That… it’s even more amazing than that.”

“More amazing?” Natalie, usually carefree to the point of appearing dull, stumbled over her words in excitement, prompting curious Emily to finally lift her head and sit up.

“Ha… what is it now?”

Emily quickly regretted standing.

“Just a letter from Roger.”

“But it’s the first reply of the year.”

Regardless of Emily’s sour expression, Natalie’s hazel eyes sparkled with joy.

What Natalie held before her was a “reply” from her second older brother, Roger Hinton.

Emily didn’t like Roger. To be honest, she thought he was quite obnoxious.

A vain, appearance-obsessed man who believed he looked good, full of self-importance disproportionate to his accomplishments, and a hypocrite filled with vanity.

Perhaps the child who resembled Mrs. Hinton the most. Emily loved her mother but knew she had a rather unpleasant personality.

Roger, a severe case of prince syndrome, the epitome of pretension and vanity! And Natalie had been secretly in love with him for five years. Poor Natalie.

Still, Emily stayed silent to protect Natalie’s first love, only speaking gently in hopes Natalie would give up her crush.

“I don’t understand why you live waiting for a reply from Roger.”

“Well…”

Natalie answered casually while reading the letter without paying attention to breakfast or Emily.

Emily leaned on the table, muttering grumpily at her cousin.

“Waiting for a reply you might get once in ten tries! Even if he’s my brother, Roger will never make a good husband or father.”

“Roger’s already a Navy Lieutenant. He must be busy. He can only reply when he’s at port, so what’s the big deal?”

“Hmph, ‘still’ a lieutenant. Really that busy? Anyway, you’re always so lenient about Roger, Miss Dows.”

“Natalie, he might return to Dwan this winter!”

“So what?”

“Eh?”

“You’ll have to go back to Warfield after the season ends in summer. You won’t see him this time either.”

Excited by the news of Roger’s return, Natalie forgot an important fact. She only stayed at her aunt’s from the start of spring to the beginning of summer. Staying all year round would have been noticed even by someone as oblivious as her.

“Ah… right. I won’t see him.”

“Honestly. The only time you’ve actually seen him was five years ago, and even then, Roger only stayed a week at the Dows’. Yet you still like him?”

Even Emily had to admit her second older brother, with his blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, was a handsome city gentleman. Still, it was remarkable to her that Natalie had held feelings for him for five years after seeing him only once at fifteen.

“I don’t know either.”

In truth, Natalie didn’t really know. Her feelings, which began when Roger visited the country town of Warfield, had become habitual.

But recalling it, it had started clearly…

Living in a dull countryside, the only delight was overhearing various gossip from adults whenever she visited the town center. Among them, talk about the Grand Batten royal family, famed for their beauty, had always caught Natalie’s attention.

A girl with an active imagination and talent for daydreaming often pictured the prince with blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin.

Then she saw her cousin Roger, four years older.

In the country, a girl’s first crush was likely a cousin visiting from the city. Whether or not he was particularly impressive.

And Roger was impressive.

Blond, blue-eyed, fair-skinned—the epitome of the prince the ladies had gossiped about. At nineteen, studying at the Royal Naval Academy, he even wore a navy cadet uniform!

Of course, Natalie knew her feelings were more admiration than love, but they were as strong as they were old.

Emily, seeing how Natalie had gotten used to liking Roger, spoke with a serious expression.

“When he came back last time, his face had completely changed. He’s not the Roger you knew. He’s caught up in rank and indulgence! And his height hasn’t changed since the first and last time you saw him. Still short.”

Natalie, aware of what sailors did while at port, retorted delicately.

“Could you not ruin my only joy?”

“My goodness, Natalie! How ungrateful! Doesn’t your joy include enjoying balls and reading clubs with me and Christina?”

At that moment, as Emily suddenly rose from her seat, forgetting her hangover, Mrs. Hinton entered the breakfast room.

Here it comes.

The two marriageable young ladies, having failed to find a suitor even the previous night, fell silent as if by agreement.

Mrs. Hinton gave a disapproving look at the reckless young ladies returning from a night of heavy drinking. Her thin frame and tightly pressed lips revealed her characteristic sternness.

To avoid her scolding, the guilty ladies offered only brief morning greetings and restrained themselves from making a sound.

Without a word, Mrs. Hinton began examining the letters addressed to them. As she leisurely checked the senders, her hand stopped at one letter.

“Darn. I should have hidden or burned this one first…”

Guessing the sender, Natalie and Emily exchanged anxious glances, swallowing nervously in belated regret.

Mrs. Hinton, having read quickly, slowly placed the letter on the table. Pressing her hand to her forehead as if restraining her anger, she muttered softly:

“…I couldn’t be your chaperone for three years straight, so I entrusted Lady Morin, and yet…”

Mrs. Hinton, unwilling to endure the humiliation of introducing her daughter and niece three times, had this season specifically chosen a lady to act as their guardian and supervisor. Lady Morin, residing in Dwan year-round, was well-connected.

“You didn’t dance once, avoided Lady Morin’s watchful eyes, and just gossiped among yourselves…”

“Mother, that’s…”

“Is what I just read true? Does this… make any sense?”

“……”

“Lady Morin notes that you are not ready to be ladies, let alone brides. She will no longer act as your chaperone.”

Natalie thought this was just as well, recalling the tiny lady who had tried to match them with older gentlemen, but wisely kept the thought to herself.

“Are you both sane? Do I need to remind you of the importance of this season? Emily, tell me yourself. Why is this season important?”

“…If we don’t find a suitor by the third season, we’ll be branded as flawed brides.”

At “flawed,” Natalie’s brow furrowed slightly. She thought, couldn’t we just say “piglets” instead? She even pictured her own poor self trapped in a tiny pigsty…

“Good. Remember well. Natalie, you haven’t forgotten either, right?”

The sudden question from Mrs. Hinton made her turn.

“Of course not, Aunt.”

“Those girls ruined the first ball of the season.”

Natalie quickly composed her expression, pretending to be an obedient young lady, but Mrs. Hinton’s reaction remained cold.