Chapter 90
“Do you think… Lady Maybell succeeded, my lady?”
There it is.
The fact that she asked for my opinion meant her own judgment was shaken.
If she’d truly been sure, she would have faked agreement with her usual awkward acting and brushed past it.
She’s such a bad liar that it’s obvious.
Judging by that serious look on her face, she seemed to be taking this matter very seriously.
“Not everything is success or failure. Sometimes it can be half-success, right?”
“There is meaning in failure, but there’s no such thing as incomplete success. An experiment is…”
“This isn’t an experiment. Maybe there was another purpose.”
The Countess Metokan narrowed her eyes, as if she had no guesses.
“…Very well. Then, Maybell, what was your purpose? Why did you use the presentation?”
The word use rubbed me the wrong way, but I kept quiet and waited for Maybell’s answer.
If my guess was right, the reason she brought music and paintings was…
“…Because I wanted to make friends.”
As expected.
I watched Countess Metokan’s face.
And just as I thought, her expression matched my prediction.
A blank, almost silly look that showed no reason or logic.
There’s a fairy tale called Bayaga.
It’s about a lonely witch, Bayaga, who lives in the forest and sets out to find human friends.
Disguised as a human, Bayaga encounters various troubles, but each time she resolves them through her beautiful music and art—because she was both a great witch and a great artist.
It was popular enough to have its own theme song, and it was still being reprinted as a beloved tale.
And Maybell had appeared with Bayaga’s mask and theme song.
Her purpose was the same as Bayaga’s.
She just wanted to make friends.
If it hadn’t been for the fuss over the red dye, someone surely would have recognized the Bayaga reference and understood her intention.
“In terms of intent, it was just a cheeky little stunt by a kid.”
I muttered to myself, staring out at the dark road.
The carriage rocked on its way back after my conversation with Countess Metokan. Leaning tiredly against the seat, I sighed at the thought that I was working overtime yet again.
Across from me, Anna, adjusting her coat, tilted her head curiously.
“Why do you think Lady Maybell chose the presentation? Wouldn’t a peer gathering have been better…?”
Anna had arrived in the parlor near the end of the conversation.
During the discussion, I had sent her to the lounge.
To gather my thoughts, I explained to her what had been said with the countess.
“She probably had a bad experience at one of those gatherings. There’s a group called The Western Sun, just for children.”
Noble children underage had many restrictions regarding parties.
In prestigious families, a debutante ball often came first, and some conservative houses wouldn’t let them attend banquets until they were engaged.
So a special gathering existed just for them—The Western Sun.
Only minors who had not yet debuted into society could attend.
The name’s a little childish… but I heard it’s quite old.
Last month, Maybell attended the group for the first time. Afterward, she shut herself in her room, closing her heart completely.
“What happened there?”
“No one knows. She kept her mouth shut, and no witnesses came forward. Maybe she was bullied, maybe shunned.”
The Western Sun was a tradition that adults couldn’t easily interfere with.
Too many nobles had passed through it. Unless Maybell herself spoke up, even Countess Metokan couldn’t investigate what had happened.
And so, after shutting herself in for so long, Maybell suddenly came out again when she heard about the presentation—seeking friends not at the Western Sun, but through her performance.
“But presentations aren’t exactly for making friends…”
“Not necessarily. She must have had her reasons.”
A child clever enough to invent things surely had her reasons.
I hadn’t pressed for them, but the countess had been different.
She’d looked at Maybell as though she were some incomprehensible creature rather than her own child.
‘I just don’t understand. Why would you do something so pointless?’
“Well… it’s not my place to say, but I think the countess is a little…”
“Cold-hearted.”
“Yes.”
I gave a bitter smile and nodded.
I hadn’t expected her to ask her daughter such a blunt question.
In the end, Maybell had fallen silent again, and the conversation circled back to: So, was Maybell successful or not?
For whatever reason, the countess was obsessed with success and failure.
Still, she’d made it clear: if it was a success, she wouldn’t punish Maybell.
So I…
“You invited Lady Maybell to the reading club, didn’t you?”
“…Yes.”
I had invited her, loudly enough for the countess to hear, saying I would be Maybell’s friend.
“If she gains you as a friend, then Maybell’s plan is a success.”
“Exactly.”
“….”
“Don’t give me that look. I know it’s childish.”
“Hehehe.”
Of course I knew. I’d challenged her with bravado, yet my solution was as childish as could be.
‘She made a friend, so her plan succeeded…’
I’d sworn to myself not to meddle in other people’s family matters, but here I was, doing something childish.
I turned away, ignoring Anna’s gentle gaze.
“Did the countess accept it?”
“She looked reluctant, but she didn’t deny it.”
She would probably scold Maybell for disrupting the presentation, but it would be lighter than the scolding for failure.
For her, nothing was more serious than failure.
Apart from that, she didn’t seem particularly strict.
I had seen her discipline a steward in front of me.
The punishment? Just two months’ docked pay.
For ruining a family event, that was incredibly lenient.
“You predicted it would turn out this way, didn’t you, my lady?”
“…Well, yes.”
Once I realized the countess was obsessed with inventions and that Maybell’s true goal was friendship, it wasn’t hard to see what would unlock the conversation.
I gave a weak smile and nodded. Suddenly, Anna straightened her posture and said:
“That’s the part of you I really like, my lady.”
“…What?”
“When someone is in trouble, you never hesitate to lend a hand.”
I frowned, looking back at her.
“It was impulsive. Recognizing Maybell’s painting was just coincidence. Even if it hadn’t been me, someone else could have…”
“But you did the same for Lady Illina, for Nata, for Jane. And now for Lady Maybell.”
“That’s…”
“Even knowing you’d gain nothing, you still helped them sincerely.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it again.
I couldn’t deny it. Every time, I had jumped in on impulse.
…What can I say? I just can’t stand by.
Maybe it was because I had already experienced death once.
It was harder than before to ignore injustice.
Like a mindset of ‘I’ll die someday anyway, so why not’. I knew I’d become more reckless.
No… that’s just an excuse.
Even if I tried to justify my sharp personality, it wouldn’t change the truth.
“I’m just glad I can be by your side, my lady.”
“….”
Anna smiled with a brightness that blew away all my tangled thoughts.
“So what if it’s childish? What if it’s impulsive? You may call it hypocrisy, but to me, you always shine.”
She gently placed my neatly folded coat on my lap.
Then, with warm, respectful eyes, she said:
“I’m sure Lady Maybell is grateful too. I saw it myself. Among all those screaming nobles, you rushed in and saved her, my lady.”
“…It was pure coincidence.”
“No. To the one rescued, it isn’t coincidence.”
Anna ticked off her fingers one by one as she continued:
“You read fairy tales to the page boys, so you knew the story of Bayaga. You understood the painting. You realized Lady Maybell’s purpose. …If I were her, I would have been so happy.”
I knew very well how precious it was to a child when someone understood their unspoken heart.
“That’s something only you could have done, my lady. And Maybell will feel the same.”
Then she took a breath and added:
“So this wasn’t meddling. It wasn’t rude. I just wanted you to know that. …I’m sorry.”
She bowed her head, apologizing for her presumptuousness.
I fiddled with my hair, pretending to fix it, and covered my face with my hand.
“…Did I really seem that concerned?”
“When something weighs on your mind, my lady, you tend to smile more often.”
That was the first I’d heard of it.
As I touched my lips, thinking it was a habit I ought to break, the coachman called out—they had arrived at the manor.
Anna and I stepped down from the carriage and walked toward the annex.
“But my lady,” Anna said.
“Hm?”
As I tried to cool my flushed cheeks with the evening breeze, Anna, walking a step behind, asked:
“That incident at the Western Sun… are you planning to investigate?”
“…How did you know?”
“Because it’s you, my lady.”
She looked ready to heap praise again, so I cleared my throat to deflect.
Still, I couldn’t deny my curiosity about the Western Sun.
“But only children of noble houses can attend that gathering, right?”
“That’s right. Which is why I’m going to use a special strategy.”
“A strategy?”
“You’ve heard of the fire-with-fire tactic?”
Anna tilted her head, not understanding. I gave her a sly smile.
This time, it was a genuine one.
“If it’s kids’ fights we’re talking about, then I can call in a little scrapper of my own.”
I hoped Mirinae would be happy.
After all, she’d finally get to see her friend again.
