Chapter 93
The Western Sun held all sorts of events at every gathering.
Plays, volunteer work, recitations—things befitting the children of noble families.
When Mabel attended for the first time, it happened to coincide with a birthday party.
It was the birthday of the club’s president, Cornell Maron.
The invitation card said to bring a gift for him.
To figure out what kind of present Cornell would like, Mabel asked advice from the cousin who had recommended her to the group.
Her cousin and fellow member, Eupina, told her:
“What Cornell likes are big birds. How about using that surprise box you invented last time?”
“The one I showed you before?”
“Yes, everyone would love it.”
Trusting Eupina’s words, Mabel prepared her gift using the surprise box she had invented earlier.
When the lid opened, a spring-loaded paper bird would shoot into the air, scattering colored confetti.
It was her first time making an invention for someone else, so Mabel poured in all her effort, day and night.
Servants offered to help, but she refused them all.
“Eupina said I have to make it myself.”
Eupina had told her that a gift only had meaning if it bore the giver’s own touch.
Since it was advice from Eupina—a cousin from the same family of inventors and scholars—Mabel accepted it without question.
Time passed, and the day of the gathering arrived.
Mabel showed up with her gift and letter.
Although she was too shy to exchange proper greetings, she wasn’t overly anxious.
She had faith in her invention.
If Cornell liked it, then her plan to make friends would surely go well too.
“Now then, let’s begin President Cornell’s birthday party! We’ll open the gifts in order, reading the letters that come with them.”
The party took place in the garden of the Maron estate. The children gathered to celebrate Cornell clapped their hands with bright faces.
Even Mabel, sitting with an awkward expression, raised her hands to clap along.
The vice president, acting almost like an actor in a play, carried over the gifts with exaggerated gestures.
“Here’s the first gift.”
One by one, the presents were opened before Cornell, who sat on a splendid chair wearing a flower crown.
As befitted the sons and daughters of prestigious houses, the gifts were extravagant.
A jewel-encrusted practice sword, a magical lamp that shone with beautiful light, a portrait of a hero painted by a famous artist, and so on.
Cornell gave thanks in a dignified manner to each giver.
“Huh? That box…”
Then Mabel noticed a strange sense of déjà vu.
The wrappings and the spring mechanism on the next gift looked awfully similar to her surprise box.
“The next present is from Miss Eupina. Let’s read her letter. ‘Congratulations on your fourteenth birthday, Cornell. It’s a shame there’s only a year left to spend together in the Western Sun. For this birthday…’”
It was a normal congratulatory message, but the last line pierced Mabel’s ears.
“Along with it, I present a surprise gift I invented.”
At that moment, the box opened, and a golden paper bird sprang out.
“Wow—!”
The children gasped in awe as the bird soared into the air and circled around Cornell’s head.
Unlike Mabel’s simple spring-loaded paper bird, this one was a treasure engraved with wind magic.
The mechanism was the same, but its splendor was incomparable.
From the box burst dozens of smaller paper birds as well, and a faint floral scent drifted on the breeze.
Eupina’s gift instantly captured Cornell’s heart.
“Thank you so much, Eupina! I’ll never forget this gift!”
Cornell’s dignified posture vanished as he hugged the golden bird with childlike excitement.
“No… this isn’t right.”
Only then did Mabel realize she had walked into a trap.
Since the gifts were opened in the order members had arrived, Mabel’s turn was last.
Which meant her invention would be presented right after Eupina’s dazzling spectacle.
She wanted to grab her gift and run, but it was already too late.
While Mabel was in turmoil, the vice president picked up the final box.
“Why? Eupina…”
She couldn’t understand why her cousin—whom she had known since childhood—would do this.
The secret talks they had shared as daughters of inventors, the inventions Mabel had only ever shown Eupina, the worries she had confided in her—all of it now felt twisted.
She could no longer make sense of Eupina’s heart.
“Last is our new member, Mabel. Welcome to the Western Sun! Let’s start with her letter.”
Mabel frantically looked toward Eupina.
Her cousin, seated among the popular children, happened to turn her head just then.
“I present the surprise box I invented. I hope you’ll like it.”
Their eyes met.
Eupina smiled.
To Mabel—who had never really had friends before—that smile was unfamiliar.
In it she saw inferiority, jealousy, and delight all mixed together.
Mabel froze.
Bang—!
The lid opened, and the bird Mabel had painstakingly made sprang into the air.
Immediately, disgruntled murmurs spread among the children nearby.
“What, another bird? Did she copy Eupina?”
“Isn’t she from the famous Metokan inventor family? To bring such a knockoff…”
The accusations and sighs made Mabel’s vision go black.
“No, it’s not like that—it’s mine, I made it…”
“How shameless, stealing someone else’s invention.”
The spring mechanism, the structure of the paper bird—everything had been crafted by Mabel herself.
It was Eupina who had stolen it.
“What does this Mabel girl even look like? Someone find her… Oh, isn’t it that one?”
Her mother’s words about making friends glued Mabel’s feet in place when she wanted to run.
Facing the sneers and scornful gazes, she slowly opened her mouth.
As an inventor, as the daughter of the Metokan family, she forced out a trembling excuse.
“N-no, mine isn’t a— a copy. That’s…”
But her words were drowned out by laughter.
“Could you stop stuttering? It’s painful to listen.”
“She’s crying now? Hey, what did we even do wrong?”
The birthday party turned into a session of accusing and mocking Mabel.
Questions, blame, pity, slander—all thrown at her with no intent to listen.
And finally, Eupina offering apologies to Cornell and receiving his comfort…
“Milady, we’ve arrived.”
Mabel’s nightmare ended.
She slowly opened her eyes.
“A dream.”
That unwanted nightmare blurred away at Kalsemo’s worried voice.
She shook her head, driving out the lingering echoes of laughter and reproach.
Mabel opened the carriage door and spoke to Kalsemo, who was waiting.
“Mm, thank you for waking me.”
Stretching, she stepped down from the carriage.
This was the arboretum where the Western Sun gathering was held.
Today’s event was an art exhibition.
Each participant would bring their own painting to display and appreciate.
“Milady, here it is.”
Kalsemo handed her the painting.
With the large canvas wrapped in white paper held against her chest, the small Mabel was almost completely hidden.
“I’ll be back.”
From here, attendants weren’t allowed to accompany them.
Mabel waved the canvas instead of her hand, and Kalsemo, looking close to tears, said:
“Will you be all right? Maybe it’s better to turn back even now…”
“No.”
Though she felt sorry, Mabel had no intention of running away. She would face it.
Kalsemo, who didn’t know what had happened at the last meeting, could only sigh with a worried look.
“Then at least… what about joining another club? It doesn’t have to be the Western Sun.”
“No. It has to be here. Mother told me—I mustn’t repeat the same mistake.”
“That is…”
There was also the matter of resolving things with Eupina.
At first, she had thought of confiding in Kalsemo or her mother and asking for help. But she quickly steeled herself.
“This is my failure.”
If she told her mother, she would probably only pity her—or worse, scold her: “Why did you share your knowledge with others?”
And then she would just shake her head in disappointment.
Mabel didn’t want that.
She no longer wanted to let her mother down.
So she resolved to solve this problem herself.
Ignoring Kalsemo’s pleas, Mabel strode into the arboretum.
Her heart still pounded when she remembered the ridicule and humiliation from before.
She hated herself for being too tongue-tied to argue back, for crying as she ran away a month ago.
“Don’t stutter. Speak clearly. You can explain. Don’t shrink from their laughter.”
She remembered the dignified lady who had once stood tall and rescued her at that disastrous presentation.
“I can do it too. Just like the Grand Lady. It’ll be fine. It’ll go well.”
Repeating her resolution, she arrived at the arboretum—
“Eh?”
—and gasped at the unexpected sight.
The prestigious gathering of western noble children, the Western Sun.
A place that was practically a miniature high society, elegant and refined.
And yet, its president…
“Ha! You call this a painting? I could do better with my feet.”
…was being mocked and disrupted by some delinquent boy, throwing the place into chaos.
