Chapter 102
I quietly lent my shoulder until Viscountess Metokan stopped crying.
I understood her circumstances.
It was a matter born of her extraordinary talent—an all too typical event of this era.
“Should I say it’s better than having her achievements stolen? Or that even with this level of talent, this is the limit?”
Either way, it left a bitter taste.
In this world, it was common for a female scholar’s credit to be stolen by her husband or teacher.
Even in the capital academy, which prided itself on freedom of status, female professors were limited to subjects like home economics and general culture.
Disciplines like philosophy and mathematics were practically closed off to them.
And considering the treatment she received in society, it was a fact that Viscountess Metokan was belittled compared to her achievements.
That was why she had wanted Mabel to grow into an ordinary person who could live among others, rather than become someone extraordinary.
“And to think it’s the viscountess, not Mabel, who’s on the more precarious edge.”
It wasn’t Mabel I should have been worried about.
I looked around the laboratory at the empty bottles scattered everywhere.
The sheer number was enough to show just how severe her alcohol dependence had become.
“She was drinking a brown beverage even at the banquet. Which means, from the presentation to the conversation we had, she was drunk the whole time… So this is her true state?”
I recalled her asking for a drink when we spoke in the parlor.
I didn’t know how she had masked the smell of alcohol, but the peculiar behavior of the intoxicated was impossible to hide.
No wonder Kalsemo had looked to me for help.
If she was more rational when drunk, then the servants must have been at their wits’ end.
When I told him I wanted to talk with the viscountess, Kalsemo had all but begged me to help her.
“Are you feeling calmer now?”
“…I’m sorry.”
After some time, the viscountess slowly raised her head.
Seeing the traces of tears still on her cheeks, I took out my handkerchief and gently wiped them away.
Flustered, she tried to decline, but at the firm look in my eyes, she let me.
“Th-that, Madam…”
“Yes?”
“…No, it’s nothing.”
With a complicated expression, she turned her gaze aside.
At least she had calmed down.
And in my experience, when someone was hearing hallucinations, it was best to have someone by their side—someone who could help separate reality from illusion.
Now that I knew her circumstances, it was time to tell her Mabel’s true feelings.
“In fact, I came here to tell you this.”
I drew from my breast pocket the notebook Mabel had handed me when I arrived—the research notes I had asked her for.
The writing was childish and messy, filled with scribbles and subjective remarks, but the brilliance within was astonishing.
More than that, the notebook brimmed with Mabel’s admiration for her mother, the viscountess.
“Do you remember what was presented at the last exhibition?”
“Of course. The music box, the paint-dispensing machine that produced any color you wanted, and…”
Naturally she knew what I meant.
As I recalled the inventions, I opened the notebook and showed her the pages one by one.
“This is…”
Written there were detailed analyses of the viscountess’s inventions—why she had made them, how they worked, what technologies were used, and how they might be improved.
Impressive enough in itself, but what I truly wanted her to see was what lay beneath.
[Mother is amazing.]
The viscountess’s trembling fingers traced over the words.
[Could I become like Mother too?]
[I tried modifying it, but the crafting was too hard. Will I ever be able to do it like her?]
[I want to show Mother soon.]
Every thought revolved around her mother.
The pages were full of sentences yearning for her praise.
“Viscountess, what Mabel wants isn’t to be an inventor.”
“Then…”
“She wants you—Milliona Metokan. You are Mabel’s dream.”
She kept turning the pages.
Everywhere, she found her daughter’s heartfelt desire for her approval.
“Why? I’m not happy. For her future, she should be more than… someone like me.”
“She wants to ‘understand’ your pain.”
“….”
“By becoming an outstanding inventor, she wants to tell you that the path you’ve walked wasn’t wrong. Because she and you are…”
The only family each other has in this world.
The viscountess hugged the notebook to her chest.
I quietly stepped back.
There was no need for me to meddle further.
For a long time, she clutched the notebook and wept.
All I could do was wait as a parent finally faced the sincerity of a daughter she had ignored for too long.
* * *
Later, both Mabel and Viscountess Metokan joined our reading society side by side.
The viscountess insisted on repaying me for what I had done.
But I hadn’t done it expecting anything, and it was Mabel’s effort that mattered, not me.
I refused repeatedly until I finally said, “Then how about joining our reading society?” and invited her.
We had been talking about recruiting more members anyway.
“If it is your invitation, then gladly.”
…Her response was so formal it almost startled me.
Gone was the cold demeanor she had shown before; in its place was a warm and gentle expression.
She even listened to my advice about quitting alcohol and seeing a doctor, promising she would try to overcome it.
Only after hearing that could I leave with an easy mind.
When the day of the reading society came, I explained to the members what had happened—skipping the sensitive parts, of course—and told them that the viscountess would be joining us.
“As expected, so it turns out this way,” Jane murmured with a complicated look.
Beside her, Illina paused mid-bite of her snack and teased, “I’ve seen this in novels before. They call it ‘capturing’—the protagonist just wraps up everyone they meet…”
“What does that mean?”
Thinking it might be some sort of slang, I asked. But Jane quickly covered Illina’s mouth and said, “Ah, nothing. Anyway, Madam, so that young master must be Lord Jace?”
“Come to think of it, I haven’t introduced him.”
I turned to Jace, who sat in the corner.
He frowned at my gaze.
The viscountess tried to scold him for being rude, but I stopped her.
Considering how much he had helped, I could let this much slide.
“This is Jace Milo. A student taught by the viscountess, and a great help to me.”
The members exchanged brief nods with Jace.
Oddly enough, he frowned at me but behaved politely toward them, which irritated me just a little.
“Jace, I invited you today to thank you. Since you helped our member Mabel, I’ve prepared a gift.”
“…What is it?”
I handed him a small card I had prepared.
Other societies had symbols of membership, so I had made one for ours—a membership card, with Jane’s help.
It resembled a modern business card, with elegant patterns and my signature certifying membership.
“It’s an honorary membership card. With this, you can attend our reading society anytime.”
It might seem trivial, but in noble society, such tokens carried real weight.
To belong to a society meant its leader vouched for your connection.
In other words, it was like saying, “I’m close enough with the chairperson to go to the sauna together.”
“Whether Jace will find it useful, I’m not sure.”
Besides, my own reputation wasn’t so great that the card would carry much influence.
So I had prepared another gift: a hardbound edition of a swashbuckling novel popular among young men.
But seeing his unimpressed look, I took out the book.
“Not enough? Then take this too…”
“No thanks.”
“…What?”
Jace shook his head, refusing the book.
Blinking at him in surprise, I saw him mutter in a grumbling voice,
“…Like I said, it’s fine.”
“What did you do, exactly?”
“I helped because I wanted to… so it’s fine. Helping someone… doesn’t feel so bad, actually.”
The library fell silent at his words.
His cheeks slightly red, he turned his head aside—and for a moment, he looked rather cute.
“Ahh, already…!”
The viscountess’s eyes welled with tears of emotion.
Jace flushed red, begging her not to act like that, but there was no stopping a teacher moved by her student’s growth.
“Looks like he’s learned a lot.”
What had happened at the Western Sun seemed to have been a huge help to Jace.
Perhaps one meaningful encounter really was more valuable than dozens of hours of lessons.
I let a hidden smile slip.
“Jane, a word.”
Leaving the others fawning over Jace, I quietly called Jane over.
Her face stiffened as she saw my expression, but she rose and followed me to the corner, pretending to browse books.
“Look into this man called Rotos for me.”
“Rotos… you mean Viscountess Metokan’s former husband?”
“Yes. Judging from the timing and content of the rumors, I’m certain he’s involved.”
No matter how many envied the viscountess, the rumors spreading were too malicious—and far too detailed.
It had to be someone deliberately feeding information.
“As expected of you, Madam. Ever cautious.”
“I don’t like leaving hidden dangers. Once you find him, let me know. I’ll deal with it.”
“No, allow me. However little it may be, I want to use my strength to aid you…”
I was about to cut her off when—knock, knock—someone rapped on the library door.
“Who is it?”
“Ah, Madam. Forgive me, but… the Young Lady is here. She’s waiting in the garden.”
“What? Helene? Why?”
“We’re not sure of her business, either…”
Jane and I exchanged a look.
There had been no appointment to meet Helene.
And she despised the annex, always insisting on the main hall for our meetings. For her to come here herself…
It had to be something urgent.
I excused myself from the members and went straight to the garden.
There, under a parasol, Helene waited with her ever-present butler holding the shade for her.
“Helene?”
“I trust you have been well, Mother.”
“…Yes, nothing unusual.”
If she could greet me so calmly, was it nothing serious after all?
But before I could ask why she had come, she spoke in a composed voice.
“I’ve come to speak about Chloe Tillim.”
Chloe—the one who had sent word that she couldn’t attend today.
Why was Helene bringing her up? I opened my mouth to ask, but—
“As of today, Chloe Tillim will withdraw from your reading society.”
“…What?”
Before I could even question her, Helene delivered the shocking news.
“House Tillim has declared they can no longer allow Lady Chloe to attend. The Count himself requested it, and I approved. From now on… Chloe Tillim will not be permitted to set foot in the Duke of Leighton’s estate.”
