Chapter 44
The head maid looked at Plita, who was clinging to Roze, and opened her mouth a beat later. Plita fidgeted, then buried her face into Roze’s skirts.
Taken aback, Roze had no choice but to answer in her stead.
“Please prepare the bathwater first.”
Plita needed to be properly washed and changed into fresh clothes. After all, this was a strange new place, and there would be many people trying to judge the child—no, the “young lady.”
“Very well, we shall do that.”
The head maid gave Roze a glance filled with subtle meaning and nodded. Then, after bowing once more toward Plita, she left the room.
“…My lady.”
Once the head maid was gone and only the two of them remained, Roze softly called out to Plita. The girl, still hiding her face in the hem of Roze’s dress, flinched.
Roze patiently waited until the child raised her head on her own.
“…I looked stupid, didn’t I?”
Plita finally lifted her face and gazed up at Roze as she asked. Roze shook her head. But Plita muttered gloomily, lips pushed forward.
“But… back there, in front of the Countess…”
“Why did you act that way?”
Roze asked in a gentle tone, softer than usual, so that the girl wouldn’t feel scolded. Perhaps it was that, or perhaps it was her affection and trust in Roze—whatever the reason, Plita hesitated for a moment before admitting the truth.
“I was scared.”
“Were you afraid of the Countess?”
“Yes.”
“But she welcomed you warmly.”
“…But she looked at me with the same eyes.”
Plita puffed out her cheeks before answering hesitantly. Roze tilted her head in confusion, not quite understanding.
“Like when the nanny called me ‘lowborn blood.’ She looked at me the same way.”
“…!”
“That Count, and that lady too. They said I was lovely, but the way they looked at me was frightening. I mean it.”
Plita’s eyes sought Roze’s. For a moment, Roze was at a loss for words, then forced a smile and nodded.
“I believe you, my lady.”
“Really?”
“Of course. You would never lie to me.”
And Roze did believe her. She didn’t dismiss Plita’s words as childish lies or as a misunderstanding. Children were often more sensitive than adults to the emotions directed at them—they could sense more accurately who liked them and who didn’t.
Besides…
Plita had grown up being told she carried the lowly blood of her mother. She couldn’t help but be all the more sensitive to such gazes.
Roze bit the inside of her cheek to swallow her indignation, then forced a gentle smile.
“So that’s why you reacted like that?”
“Yes… I looked stupid, didn’t I?”
Plita repeated her earlier question, watching Roze carefully. Roze shook her head more firmly this time.
“Not at all. In fact, you were very clever.”
“…Clever?”
“Of course. You were the only one who noticed something no one else did. That’s amazing.”
Our young lady is truly clever. How did you notice something like that? I’m so proud of you.
Roze praised the child over and over, perhaps even too much. Slowly, Plita’s discouraged expression began to brighten, until her little shoulders started to puff up with pride.
“Wow, you can see the garden from here! Roze, there’s a bird’s nest in that tree!”
In no time, the frightened, gloomy girl had vanished. Plita skipped around the room, chattering happily as she clung to the window ledge to peek outside.
Roze looked at her with both fondness and pity before turning to unpack their luggage.
But then—Plita suddenly dashed back and threw herself into Roze’s arms.
“Finished looking outside already?”
“Yes!”
Still clinging to Roze, she nodded vigorously. Then her eyes rolled about thoughtfully before she spoke.
“You know…”
“Yes, my lady?”
Roze tidied the child’s dress as she replied. Plita played with the folds as she continued.
“Just now… I thought it was really nice the nanny didn’t come with us.”
“….”
“Does that make me a bad kid?”
She was being honest—at least with Roze. Roze paused her unpacking and looked at her. Meeting the child’s pale green eyes, she shook her head with a smile.
“To be honest, I thought the same thing.”
“You did, Roze?”
“Yes. I was glad the nanny wasn’t here… So I must be bad too, right?”
Plita blinked in surprise, then giggled. Almost at the same moment, both of them burst out laughing.
The thought that Roze felt the same way as she did seemed to put Plita at ease. Relieved, she went back to exploring the room with a much lighter heart. It seemed she had felt guilty for thinking badly of the nanny.
But considering how the nanny had been snapping irritably at them right up until they left the Grand Duke’s residence, it wasn’t strange at all.
I’m not some watchdog! How could His Grace humiliate me like this? Roze, did you scheme against me in front of him?
The nanny had blamed Roze for everything and raged openly. She hadn’t even hesitated to slap Roze in front of Plita. That was how fierce her temper had been.
Roze knew she would be tormented again once they returned. The thought alone was enough to make her temples throb.
…Though the nanny wasn’t the only reason for her headache.
We’ll meet again.
Roze recalled the way the dowager queen had looked at her. As all the household staff lined up outside to see off the dowager queen and the duchess, the queen had come up to her personally with a parting word.
That had earned her the other servants’ envious stares. She could still hear one of them sneering: First the Grand Duke, now the queen herself notices her. How impressive.
I should return the bracelet.
It was unwanted attention—and worse, she was still holding onto something she never should have accepted. Even away from the Grand Duke’s estate, the bracelet tucked deep in her drawer weighed on her heart.
With a quiet sigh, she forced the thought aside. She had to forget it. This was the first—and the last—trip she would take with the child.
Yes… the last.
“All done.”
Roze pushed her tangled emotions into a corner of her heart, then turned to Plita with a radiant smile. Her gaze toward the child was both tender and tinged with sorrow.
* * *
“Welcome, my lady.”
“…Thank you for inviting me.”
Plita answered the Countess’s greeting awkwardly. The Countess gave her a quick once-over before smiling faintly.
It was an all-too-familiar gaze—stifling, suffocating.
That same gaze that always judged her because her mother had been a nameless commoner.
Unconsciously, Plita pressed her lips together and squeezed Roze’s hand tightly. Roze gently returned the grip, as if to ease her tension.
It’s all right, my lady.
She could almost hear Roze’s gentle voice in her ears—the same words she always whispered whenever Plita woke from a bad dream or cried after being scolded by the nanny.
This time, Roze said nothing aloud. But just by holding her hand, it felt as though she had.
Plita gave her a small smile, straightened her back, and walked toward the table. Roze smiled proudly at the girl’s new courage and followed close behind.
“This is my daughter. Adela, greet the young lady.”
The Countess introduced the girl beside her. Plita remembered glimpsing her earlier, when they got out of the carriage. She looked a few years older than Plita.
Plita stared at the girl with wide eyes. Unlike the adults she was always surrounded by, this was another child, closer to her age. Strange, fascinating… and someone she wanted to befriend.
Adela, however, lifted her chin slightly, curtsied, and said with perfect manners:
“Hello, my lady. I’m Adela Burel.”
“…Uh, I’m Plita.”
Plita couldn’t take her eyes off the Count’s daughter. Though older, she was still a child—just like her.
But Adela only turned away primly to face her mother. Plita’s face fell just a little. At that moment, the Countess smiled warmly.
“Please, have a seat, my lady.”
“…Yes.”
Plita sat where she was guided. Roze stood behind her, discreetly scanning the table for any refreshments the child might not be able to eat. Fortunately, everything seemed fine.
The tea time began smoothly. Plita, though young, behaved with proper manners. The Countess raised her brows slightly in surprise at her poise, but made no comment.
Instead, the problem came from Adela.
As she lifted a spoonful of pudding, she dropped it with a splat.
“Adela!”
The Countess, who had been pouring tea herself, snapped her daughter’s name in a low, warning tone.
“The young lady hasn’t made a single mistake. How could you be so careless? Apologize at once.”
“Oh, but I’m fine…”
“I’m sorry, my lady.”
