Chapter 92
‘Wait, when she said she wanted to make friends… did she mean a boyfriend?’
No, that couldn’t be it.
I pushed my hair back from my forehead to steady myself and looked at the butler, whose face showed just as much shock. Clearly, this wasn’t the sort of question Mabel usually asked.
When children suddenly ask unexpected questions, there are usually two reasons.
Either they heard the topic from somewhere, or…
“Do you have a friend who says she needs a boyfriend?”
So it was about a friend.
At my question, Mabel hesitated, then carefully chose her words.
“It’s not a friend… but, um…”
“Someone you know?”
“……Yes.”
I let out a quiet sigh of relief without letting her notice.
Mabel was—thirteen years old, was it?
I’d given love advice to children around that age before, but it rarely ended well.
You can’t take kids’ relationships lightly.
I had expected something like a sweet, innocent comic-book romance where holding hands turned faces red. Reality was different.
The face of one child who had slapped another for ignoring her text flashed in my mind.
Fortunately, Mabel’s concern didn’t seem to be of that kind.
“The beginning of love is different for everyone, so it’s hard to give a definite answer.”
“Then… how did you fall in love with the Duke, godmother?”
“Well…”
I glanced again at the butler.
His face had turned pale. I could more or less guess the situation.
Mabel doesn’t really know about me. Not that telling her would do her any good.
How was I supposed to explain to a child that I was the last wife of the so-called “Demon Duke,” who had killed four of his brides?
The rumor of me being a “bride sold off” was whispered in society, but Mabel, who hadn’t even had her debutante, would have no idea.
She probably thought of me as a widowed godmother, at most.
“Well, I didn’t love him.”
I explained it in a way Mabel could understand without being shocked.
“It was more of… a political marriage. Not the kind of romance you’re imagining.”
“Oh…”
In fact, among nobles, love matches were even rarer.
It was normal to be engaged first and then let affection grow afterward.
I thought I had sidestepped the question neatly, but Mabel asked again.
“Then, have you ever loved anyone?”
“……”
That was even harder to answer.
I crossed my arms, turning my head so Mabel couldn’t see me frown.
I did have someone I could call a “first love,” but I’d never had a truly affectionate relationship.
I’d dated, yes—but never loved.
And even then, those memories belonged to my past life. As Wilhelmina, I had never dated a man at all.
Pretending to admire the sunset-lit gardens, I stalled.
Even in this fantasy world, I’ve never had any fairy-tale encounter. No prince on a white horse. Not even some handsome chance meeting in the garden. Not in the academy, either.
As I was wondering how to answer, Mabel tugged at my sleeve and spoke.
“Then… have you ever lost someone you loved?”
“……”
At that moment, I realized who she was really asking about.
Viscount Metokan came to mind.
Didn’t she say her husband left two years ago?
It wasn’t clear if it was divorce or abandonment, but it was well known in society that Viscount Metokan’s husband no longer appeared.
I hadn’t heard the full story, but given the family’s inventor background and lack of interest in politics, theirs was probably a love marriage.
And her husband had only been a baron.
So the person Mabel was worried about must have been her mother, the Viscountess.
I covered Mabel’s hand, which was clutching my sleeve, with my own.
“I haven’t. But Mabel, you must have seen someone like that, haven’t you?”
“……Yes.”
“And you’ve been wondering how to comfort that person?”
“That’s right.”
What a good child.
She wasn’t just clever—she had such a kind heart.
Even if I didn’t know the full family situation, the fact that she was more worried about her mother’s pain than her father’s absence made me proud—and a little sad.
It feels like she’s being forced to grow up too quickly.
“Well… since everyone’s grief is different, it’s hard to say for sure. But…”
I stroked Mabel’s hair and said softly:
“If that person knows you’re worried for her, it’ll be a great comfort.”
“……Really?”
“Of course. Having someone who understands you is one of the most precious things in the world.”
No parent would ever reject the care and support of their own child.
Even if Viscount Metokan was a little unusual, she didn’t seem to lack familial love.
“So… what’s needed is ‘understanding,’ right?”
“Hm?”
It was just a casual expression, but Mabel kept repeating the word “understanding.”
“Yes. If you’re really family, you have to understand each other. If not… then you’ll be abandoned.”
It was a small murmur, but I heard it clearly.
…What did she mean by that?
As if she had resolved something, Mabel nodded firmly.
I was about to ask her what she meant when—
Booong—
The bell rang six times, signaling the evening.
“Ah, it’s time to go home…”
Mabel quickly urged the butler to take her back.
Of course, six o’clock was quite late for a child.
I walked her to the castle gates to see her off.
When we arrived, the butler called for the waiting carriage.
It seemed I was the only one left uneasy; Mabel looked much brighter than when she first arrived.
“Thank you so much, godmother. I’ll come again!”
“Of course. See you next time.”
…Was that enough?
Her words had been hard to ignore, but since she seemed fine, it was difficult to press further.
I waved to Mabel, and she gave me a faint smile before climbing into the carriage.
Just then, as the butler shut the carriage door, he turned to me.
“Then I’ll take my leave, madam.”
“Thank you, Calsemo.”
That was his name, if I recalled.
His affection for Mabel was plain to see. And from the looks of it, he was also trusted by Viscount Metokan—a very capable retainer.
Perhaps this butler knows more than he lets on.
I stopped him as he was about to walk around to the other side.
“Calsemo.”
“Yes, madam?”
“Do you know why Mabel is so fixated on the word ‘understanding’?”
His face stiffened.
Though his expression became neutral, silence itself was an answer.
I folded my arms and recalled my earlier conversation with the Viscountess.
She’d once said, ‘If a work isn’t understood, it’s a failure.’
She had called my response then “unexpected.” But seeing Mabel’s obsession with the same word, there was clearly more to it.
“What do you mean by that, madam?”
“If it’s a private family matter, you don’t have to answer. I just want to know if there are things I should avoid saying in front of Mabel. I’d hate for her to be hurt carelessly.”
Because he cared so much for her, the butler hesitated, lips pressed tight.
Finally, after making sure the carriage door was shut, he spoke in a low voice.
“It isn’t really a secret. You may have already heard—our lady often says ‘I can’t understand’ as a habit.”
“I see.”
Of course, I hadn’t heard that.
I’d only started investigating society’s rumors a few days ago, so I barely knew her reputation.
She really is an easy target for gossip…
A wealthy female head of house who rarely appeared in social gatherings. No doubt there were plenty of bad rumors I hadn’t come across yet.
Still, I pretended to know.
“And why is that?”
“My lady is extremely rational and intelligent. Whenever something defies logic, she often says, ‘I can’t understand it.’”
I remembered her addressing the nobles at her presentation, saying, ‘No one here understands.’
I could easily imagine her tone.
“And when the young miss makes mistakes, she often says the same thing.”
“……She says, ‘I don’t understand you’?”
“Yes.”
That…
I could almost hear my old teacher sighing in dismay.
It was one of the worst things to say when disciplining a child.
Though compared to parents who treat their children like possessions, I suppose it’s still better…
But with a genius mother like that, things would only get more complicated.
Now I see why Mabel was so determined earlier.
She wanted her mother to understand her. And because of that, she tied “understanding” to what it meant to be true family.
And maybe… her father, too.
It reminded me of the saying: when parents fight, children always blame themselves.
A husband who couldn’t understand his wife. A genius and a normal person. And their daughter stuck in between.
I sighed, then asked the butler to confirm something I had suspected.
“Tell me one more thing. Was Mabel’s participation in the Western Sun Society her mother’s order?”
“Huh? Y-yes, that’s right. How did you know?”
“And when she failed to make friends there, her mother scolded her, didn’t she?”
“Y-yes, that’s true as well.”
“Phew…”
So Mabel hadn’t joined because she wanted to make friends. She was following her mother’s order—a test, really.
If there was success and failure, then I could already guess what Mabel had resolved earlier.
“You said you don’t know what happened at that gathering, right?”
“Ah, yes. She never told me. But…”
I can imagine well enough.
When children kept silent in unison, it was almost always for bad reasons.
Because something was shameful. Or because there was a scheme.
“Calsemo. Soon, Mabel will say she wants to join the Western Sun Society again.”
“What? But last time she…”
“When that time comes, get another invitation and bring it to me.”
The butler tilted his head, not understanding, but I was already certain.
If Mabel was truly her mother’s daughter, a born inventor, she wouldn’t fear trying again.
And since she believed she needed her mother’s understanding to be family, her plan was obvious.
“I can get one, but… what do you plan to do with it?”
“I’ll drop a bomb.”
“A… bomb, madam?”
Oh, yes. The kind of bomb that blows away all pretenses.
One of those mischievous kids who barges into a stiff gathering and turns everything upside down.
I had been planning to wait until I knew more about the society before interfering, but now my mind was made up.
After hearing Mabel’s situation, I couldn’t stand by and let her fail again.
If only children could join the society… then I just needed to send in a child myself.
Let’s see… has Jace matured at all by now?
