Chapter 8
Mary’s sudden voice brought me to a halt. I turned back toward the room just as she caught up, her cart rattling softly behind her. Before I could speak, her hands settled firmly on my shoulders.
Mary’s hands were those of an elder—long, thin-boned, with skin like crinkled parchment. But the strength in her grip was no joke. She seized me and pulled upward with such vigor that my slumping spine snapped straight in an instant.
“Ack!”
“Back straight at all times! Chin held fifteen degrees above the horizon! A lady of the House of Federway must maintain an air of elegance that leaves no room for reproach. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ye—yes…”
Though her strength had forced me into a rather stiff, awkward posture, Mary seemed satisfied. A faint smile touched her lips as she gave me a gentle nudge forward.
“From this moment on, I shall be in charge of your deportment. Simply follow my lead. You may leave everything to me.”
Mary placed a hand over her heart and looked down at me with a graceful, composed smile. I could only offer a strained laugh in return as I navigated my way out of the room, my body held as rigid as a board.
‘Mistress Maya, you look incredibly unnatural right now.’
“I know…” I hissed.
I whispered the reply to Lili, who was squeaking from inside my pocket. I gave her tiny head a reassuring rub with my index finger before tucking her back into hiding. Lili let out one final, pathetic little ‘peep’ before settling into silence.
Guided by Mary, I descended to the first floor, where I found the Head Butler waiting for us near the entrance.
“I have been expecting you, My Lady.”
“Ah… hello…”
“This is Head Butler Dernan,” Mary whispered from behind me.
“Good morning, Dernan.”
I bowed my head as I addressed him by name for the first time. The butler offered a faint, approving smile and a nod. Mary, however, was less impressed.
“It seems we must add greeting etiquette to the curriculum,” she grumbled under her breath.
All I could do was offer another awkward laugh. It was then that I noticed the two women standing before Dernan. Both appeared quite young. They caught the hems of their elegant dresses and performed graceful curtsies, their movements so fluid they felt like a silent lesson in nobility.
“Allow me to introduce them, My Lady,” Dernan said. “These are the tutors who will be overseeing your education starting today. This is Marchioness Mel.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Federway,” the Marchioness said. “I shall be instructing you in the fundamentals of mathematics.”
“And this is Lady Rowell of House Blake.”
“I will be teaching you the etiquette of high society,” the younger woman added.
Each bowed their head slightly as their names were called. But something gave me pause.
“Marchioness…?” I repeated.
“Yes, you may address me as such,” the woman replied.
“And you may simply call me Rowell,” the other added with a friendly smile.
I looked at the woman introduced as the Marchioness. Despite the title, she looked to be in her early twenties at most. To be called ‘Marchioness’ or ‘Madam’ meant she was already married. She looked exactly the age I had been before I died. I knew this world was different from my old one, but marriage at that age still felt… heavy.
Perhaps my gaze was too pitying, because the Marchioness gave a startled, slightly bashful laugh.
“We are only here to introduce ourselves today,” she explained softly. “We won’t begin the formal lessons immediately, so please, do not be nervous.”
She looked down at me with a gentle, soothing smile. Beside her, Rowell leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped together. She looked less like a stern teacher and more like someone doting on a cute younger sister.
“That’s right, My Lady. We simply need to gauge your current level of knowledge so we can prepare the proper materials for our next session.”
Once the introductions were finished, the Head Butler bowed, took a precise step back, and turned with military efficiency.
“I shall lead you to the study.”
Dernan began to walk, but no one followed. Instead, they all stood still, watching me.
Ah, I’m supposed to lead.
Realizing the hierarchy at play, I hurried to walk behind the butler. Only then did the other three fall into step. The Marchioness and Rowell walked side-by-side behind me, with Mary bringing up the rear in perfect formation.
When we reached the room at the far end of the hallway, the butler opened the door and stepped aside. This time, I knew the drill—I walked in first.
I took a quick survey of the room. It was decorated in a classic Gothic style, featuring two mahogany desks facing each other and a green chalkboard standing to the side. It was a room designed specifically for private tutoring.
“Lessons will take place here for one to two hours a day,” Dernan explained. “Given the breadth of the curriculum, Marchioness Mel and Lady Rowell will visit twice a week. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
The butler bowed to the room at large and retreated, walking backward out of the door.
“I shall remain right here, so call if you have need of me,” Mary added, taking her post by the door with her hands folded primly.
With the senior staff out of the way, the Marchioness moved toward the bookshelf with practiced ease and pulled out two volumes.
“Shall we sit? We can’t very well work while standing.”
“Ah, yes. Right. Are those…?” I trailed off, nodding toward the books.
“Think of them as your textbooks,” Rowell chirped, clapping her hands lightly.
The Marchioness didn’t seem bothered that Rowell had answered for her. With a neutral expression, she spread the book open in front of me. It was, quite literally, a primer.
“Now, why don’t we try solving these? Please tell me if you find them too difficult.”
I looked at the section she pointed out and felt a wave of realization hit me.
…They think I’m a complete blank slate.
I expected basic addition and subtraction, but this was practically kindergarten level. I suppose it made sense—I was in a child’s body and had just been plucked from an orphanage—but it was still jarring to be treated as if I knew nothing.
I picked up the pen and solved the problems on the page instantly. When I looked up, the Marchioness nodded slowly, a small smile appearing.
“Yes, that was quite basic. Let us try these next.”
She flipped five pages forward and pointed to a new set. Again, I breezed through them without a second thought.
“Oh my,” Rowell whispered, her eyes widening as she looked from me to the Marchioness. The older woman’s eyes had also flared with surprise for a split second before she regained her composure.
“This is quite different from what we were told,” the Marchioness remarked. “You truly are a Lady of Federway.”
It was impressive how she managed to maintain her poise even while clearly stunned.
Instead of waiting for the next prompt, I began flipping the pages myself. The early problems were simple arithmetic, but the complexity grew as the formulas lengthened. For me, however, it wasn’t difficult. Even the “challenging” ones were just a matter of basic application.
I flipped to the very last page—the one intended to be the most difficult—calculated the answer in my head, jotted it down, and set the pen aside.
The room went silent. The Marchioness and Rowell, who had been watching over my shoulder, were speechless. Even Mary, standing by the door, had let her jaw drop slightly.
Inside my pocket, Lili began to squirm, her voice ringing in my head.
‘Whoa, amazing! Mistress, that last problem is at the level taught at the Capital Academy!’
“This is…” The Marchioness searched for words, glancing between me and Mary. She looked genuinely rattled, as if the briefing she’d received had been for an entirely different person. She picked up the book and began flipping through every single page I had filled.
“My word… every single one is correct.”
“The logic in the steps is perfect, too,” Rowell added, leaning in with fascination.
“I came prepared to teach you from the very beginning,” the Marchioness said, standing up with a graceful smile. “But it seems our time together may not be as long as I anticipated.”
She looked at me with eyes full of pure, unadulterated wonder. It was only natural; no one expects a child who has only just gained her self-awareness to solve Academy-level equations.
The Marchioness gathered her belongings and left the room with Mary. The rhythmic click-clack of their heels faded down the hall.
Silence hung in the air until Rowell broke it with a sharp, delighted clap of her hands. I looked up to see her beaming at me.
“Goodness! That was incredible, My Lady! Where did you learn all of that? That last problem… even I struggled with that one three years ago!”
Her auburn hair shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the window, matching the excited flush on her cheeks.
“Is that so? I wonder what you were told about me…”
“The Head Butler mentioned you wouldn’t know anything yet,” Rowell laughed, spinning in a joyful circle. Her wide skirts flared out, filling the space with color. “He told us to be patient and start from scratch. But clearly, that won’t be a problem at all!”
She stopped spinning and gave a playful pump of her fists. In front of the butler, she had been a picture-perfect noble lady, but alone with me, she was as spirited as any girl her age.
Seeing her genuine excitement, I couldn’t help but let out a loose, easy smile. If Mary had seen it, she surely would have lectured me about “unbecoming expressions.”
