6.
“Of the people I know, there’s only one person rude enough to visit during Madam Mezen’s mealtime.”
Emily rose with the scrape of a chair.
“I’ll go.”
Lunaria quickly set down her spoon.
“Sit.”
Emily pressed Lunaria down by the shoulder. But Lunaria would not be deterred and stood to follow.
Just as Emily had said, the visitor’s identity was easy to guess.
Prantes? Why has he come already?
In her previous life, Prantes had visited the Veila mansion at dinnertime, just as he had announced. For him to suddenly move the time forward and show up early—
He’s so capricious that perhaps he simply changed his mind. Or else…
Emily flung the door open savagely—no consideration at all for the visitor standing outside the entrance.
He might have been smacked in the face by the door, but it seemed he nimbly dodged; instead of a groan, only a faint chuckle from the visitor was heard.
Flooding noon sunlight pushed into the mansion, sweeping away the lingering dimness. Lunaria narrowed her eyes slightly.
Backlit by the light, a tall silhouette strode in without hesitation, with the confidence of someone no one could bar.
The cool scent of open fields curled at the tip of her nose.
Beneath wavy black hair, eyes the color of the blue sea glittered with interest. Lunaria flickered and sank within Prantes’s pupils.
At last, she was face-to-face again with the Prantes of those days.
To Lunaria—who remembered her previous life—he was someone she’d parted from not long ago. It felt a bit strange, like circling a long way and meeting again at the starting point. And—
Was he this young?
Seeing Prantes up close, she was taken aback. The young man who had become a grand duke due to an unexpected bereavement still had a boyish face, not yet fully shed of youth.
In her memories, he had been at most two years older than Lunaria, and she recalled that he sometimes showed a surprisingly dependable side.
Cute.
Now, he looked simply like a cute boy.
“It’s been a while, Emily. Have you been well?”
“I was, until the young master decided to interrupt a pleasant lunch.”
“L-L-Lady Emily… I’m sorry to arrive so suddenly, not as scheduled. There are, uh, circumstances…”
The man hiding behind Prantes, plainly exhausted, spoke in a creeping voice. He couldn’t even look Emily properly in the eye and trembled.
When Emily spun around without answering, the man let out a tiny squeak.
“Emily is wonderfully consistent. I like people who don’t change,” Prantes laughed, following after her.
Randolph moved like a shadow at Prantes’s back. Lunaria walked quietly at the end of the little procession.
They entered the small parlor.
The queen of the Veila mansion, Madam Mezen, sat waiting to grant audience.
“Aunt, it’s been a while. I’m glad to see you still in good health. And as beautiful as ever.”
“It has been a while. What about my beauty? Mind your tongue. Let me see. Hm, you’re still ugly. And you look uneducated besides.”
Hearing Madam Mezen’s teasing, Prantes beamed.
With no expression, the bold lines of his face could seem arrogant; when he smiled, a mischievous boyishness stood out.
It was a natural charm that drew women’s eyes anywhere.
“Aunt Mezen, have you been well? I’m sorry to come so late,” Randolph said, lowering his brows as he took Madam Mezen’s hand—still sneaking glances at Emily.
Sir Randolph—it’s been a long time for him, too.
Randolph had been a close friend of Prantes since childhood. Compared to Prantes, he was mild in temperament and a little simple.
Perhaps because of that, he was popular with older ladies, and since he had a connection with Madam Mezen, it seemed he had been specially chosen to accompany Prantes.
“Yes, and I’m just glad what you saw wasn’t my corpse.”
“Aunt…!”
“A cheerful reunion is all well and good, Aunt. But this young lady has been waiting with puzzled eyes for me to be introduced. May I greet her?”
Watching fondly from a little distance, Lunaria flinched.
Deep, blue eyes fixed on her as if to pierce right through.
“Do as you please.”
Madam Mezen gave permission.
By imperial law, those of lower status could not greet those of higher status first. One had to be introduced by someone known to both or receive permission from the higher-ranked party to introduce oneself.
Barring the imperial family, there were few in the empire of higher rank than Prantes, a grand duke.
Prantes was now, in effect, flouting imperial etiquette—asking Mezen for “permission” to allow him to greet Lunaria.
A man who could look down from the very top, yet knew how to bend.
Lunaria liked this about Prantes.
“A pleasure. I’m Madam Mezen’s ugly, lacking nephew, Prantes.”
Though he spoke with playful tone, he did not state his family name. Catching that, Madam Mezen raised an eyebrow.
When Prantes extended his hand, Lunaria offered one of hers.
He brushed a light kiss over the back of Lunaria’s hand. The soft touch on her skin tickled.
Prantes glanced up and met Lunaria’s eyes. When Lunaria smiled, Prantes smiled back.
There was a hint of disappointment in that smile—so slight that only someone who knew him well would notice.
Did he think a country girl would be shy?
A cute assumption for a young noble from the capital.
He was so easy to read—why did people always find Prantes so difficult?
“I’m pleased as well, Mr. Prantes. I’m Lunaria.”
Lunaria, too, did not give a surname.
Hearing her, Prantes looked back at Randolph and laughed at something he found amusing.
“This friend is Randolph. He’s bad at remembering people’s names, but he’s a good man—please be kind to him.”
“If I’d known Sir Randolph was coming too, we’d have to ready another guest room, which doubles the work. Young master, please remain seated in the parlor. It’ll take a long time since I have to clean by myself,” Emily said sharply.
“I’m sorry…”
With not a speck of blame in him for any of this, Randolph ducked his head.
“Emily is cleaning alone?” Prantes asked.
“Miss Luna is about to go out into town to shop. To treat someone,” Emily replied.
“Is that so?”
Prantes spun Randolph by the shoulder and planted him squarely before Emily.
“Randolph, you help Emily.”
“Me? Alone with Lady Emily?”
Randolph squawked, voice rising, eyes and mouth gaping in shock, even his hands trembling. Just what sort of existence was “Lady Emily” to him?
“…Me!” he cried in incredulous agony.
“Yes, you. Miss Lunaria, I will escort you to town,” said Prantes.
“Thank you, but I can go alone. It’s fine,” Lunaria answered.
“It’ll be hard on your feet.”
“Miss Luna can ride. She doesn’t need the young master to manage on her own,” Emily snorted, arms folded, watching for an opening.
“All the better, then. I’m the one who has trouble going alone. I’m not used to riding, so I always need a companion to keep pace and watch me.”
“What, young master?”
“You?” Emily and Randolph exclaimed at the same time.
“I also wanted to look around Tilbury’s town center.”
“But you toured it all last time,” Randolph said tactlessly.
Prantes gazed at him in silence—with the look of a man ready to dump Randolph back in the capital immediately.
“Why not go together, Luna,” Madam Mezen interjected, amused.
“Then let’s do this,” Emily said. “I’ll do the shopping and show the young master around Tilbury. Miss Luna, you clean rooms with Sir Randolph. Agreed?”
Randolph secretly patted his chest in relief.
“Ah, that won’t do,” Lunaria objected.
“Why?”
“Lady Emily, you never go out beyond the Veila mansion, so you don’t even know where lemons are sold—or the lay of the town,” Lunaria said.
A heavy silence fell.
“…”
From time to time, Lunaria’s honest remarks accidentally carried a razor-sharp edge, and even Emily would be struck speechless.
“So in the end, I’ll have to go,” Lunaria smiled. Emily clicked her tongue—tsk.
“It’s decided,” Madam Mezen said, drawing her shawl close with a sly smile.
Prantes smiled in much the same way.
“What a pity, Emily. I’d briefly looked forward to strolling the streets with you after so long.”
Emily glared at the hateful Rotmeria family’s people, grabbed Randolph by the collar, and hauled him upstairs.
Only Randolph’s pitiful screams scattered in their wake.
“Long time no see, Benny. Have you been well?”
Lunaria gently stroked the forehead of the black horse before her.
Responding, Benny rubbed his cheek against Lunaria’s hand.
Though Emily’s horse Benny was large, he was docile and obeyed Lunaria’s commands well. He was also so brave and clever that one might think he had been professionally trained somewhere.
“Long time? Didn’t you meet him yesterday?” Prantes asked, leading out a dark steel-blue horse from the stable.
“It’s our first greeting today,” Lunaria replied.
She set her foot firmly in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. In the noonday sun, her hair flashed with golden light.
“Let’s go, Mr. Prantes. I’ll lead, so don’t worry. Just trust me and follow.”
How reassuring she could be. The corners of Prantes’s mouth curled up.
“I’ll look forward to it, Miss Lunaria—to where you’ll lead me.”
Likewise, perhaps she could make Prantes himself feel why she had won his aunt’s favor.
