Violet Roberta Armetia waited anxiously for her guest. It was a guest Count Armetia had invited under the pressure of a silent threat.
‘The Berthier lady…….’
If she could help it, Violet would have thrown a fit like a child rather than face Adelaide. Her body, which would run a fever and confine her to bed at the slightest strain, was uselessly healthy today of all days.
“Are you worried, miss?”
Violet’s nanny, Emma, asked as she poured a third cup of hot tea. At the news that Adelaide was coming, Violet had already drunk three cups of calming tea, but none of it had done any good.
“It’s the Berthier lady, Emma.”
“The Count said you only need to have a conversation.”
“Emma, it’s the Berthier lady. The last news I heard before going to the convent was that the Berthier lady had doused Lady Diana’s dress with water.”
“Those are just rumors, miss. From what I hear, the Berthier lady has changed quite a bit.”
Violet loved the nanny who had cared for her since childhood like a mother, but at some point, trust had vanished from that love. It was a distrust that had surfaced from the incident that drove Violet to beg to be sent to the convent.
“People don’t change, Emma.”
“Perhaps not. But some people do, miss.”
Emma skillfully combed Violet’s hair into place. Even if the guest was unwelcome, she couldn’t afford to be careless in receiving the Berthier lady.
Violet fastened a corset around her waist for the first time in a long while, one she had not worn at the convent on the grounds that it was too indulgent.
“I can’t breathe.”
“This isn’t the convent anymore, miss. If you’re to get engaged and married, you’ll have to learn to endure.”
Emma pulled the corset laces tight and tied them firmly. Violet leaned against the vanity, gasping. Her already slender waist shrank to an unnatural circumference.
“Well, at least the measurements haven’t gone up. Of course not. Our miss’s waist is in a class of its own compared to the other ladies.”
Violet found the praise, which had once been nothing but welcome, somehow like a hand closing around her throat.
‘I must be on edge because the Berthier lady is coming.’
She attributed the stifling feeling to nerves and tried her best to breathe naturally with the air that only reached the upper part of her chest.
A small battle was underway at the Berthier estate.
“I’m not wearing it.”
“Please, my sweet lady, just this once?”
“I told you to throw that corset out, and you let my words go in one ear and out the other. I was giving you the chance to tear off a few ribbons and sell them before I burned it myself, and you let that slip by.”
Adelaide crossed her arms defensively. Amy stamped her feet.
“I didn’t wear one when I met the Crown Prince, and you think I’d put one on just to visit a count’s daughter?”
“His Highness the Crown Prince is a man. Unless he’s a lecher, men know nothing about women’s fashion. Lady Violet will surely be dressed beautifully from head to toe, and the thought of you falling short, my lady, breaks my heart.”
“Don’t cry. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you’ve been wringing out tears on purpose lately?”
“My laaaaady.”
“Enough. I’m not going. If I don’t go, that’s that. I didn’t want to go in the first place. The old man nagged me so relentlessly that I gave in against my better judgment, and now I can’t even dress the way I want?”
Amy gave up. Getting Adelaide a friend was just as important a mission to Amy as it was to Duke Berthier.
‘Our lady is such a warm person, and yet she gets shut out over a few mistakes she made when she was young. It’s not fair.’
Those hadn’t been a few innocent mistakes but deliberate acts of spite, yet to Amy’s eyes, already thoroughly blinded by affection, they all looked like nothing more than the harmless mischief anyone might get up to in their younger years.
“I won’t budge on the dress with the buttons in front!”
“I wasn’t going to push it that far anyway. Stop crying. Go wash your face first before you get snot on the dress.”
“I won’t get any on it! I’m a professional maid!”
Amy answered with spirit and brought out the plainly designed dress Adelaide had chosen. The ties were in the back, but no matter how she looked at it, it was far too plain for a visit to someone around the same age.
“You’re sniffling again.”
“Our lady should look her absolute best, sob…….”
“I look my absolute best in anything I throw on.”
“That’s true, but.”
“If it’s true, then it’s true. Why add a ‘but’ where it doesn’t belong?”
Adelaide finished getting ready with some difficulty and spotted Lionel standing in the lobby, then squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again.
“What is that getup? You look like a rooster showing off its plumage.”
“I told Benjamin it was too much, but he said I shouldn’t look outshone…….”
Lionel was generally neat, but today he wore a shirt with flowing lace that made him look ready to compete in a dance contest. On top of that, his usually limp hair had been gelled and swept up, exposing a clean, straight forehead.
Adelaide noticed that he had not only filled out considerably in the two weeks since his arrival but had also grown taller, and she felt a flash of irritation.
“You’ve gotten chubby, Lionel.”
“You think so too, my lady? Benjamin and everyone else said I looked much better, but I knew it was just a kind lie. If you hadn’t told me the truth, I would have kept gaining weight here without knowing a thing. Thank you, my lady.”
Lionel was, objectively, not chubby. If anything, he looked exactly as the words he firmly believed to be kind lies described: tall and good-looking. His previously hunched shoulders had also straightened from the repeated lessons.
“Never mind, what’s the use of talking to you. I trust you’ve learned how to escort someone?”
“Yes. It is the greatest honor to escort you, my lady.”
“Don’t say unnecessary things. It makes my ears itch.”
Lionel’s almond-colored eyes curved into a smile. Benjamin had told him that nobles competed even through their dress. Adelaide could have adorned herself as lavishly as she pleased, and yet she had chosen a plain dress.
Lionel had no doubt whatsoever that it was Adelaide’s way of looking out for him. It was a firm conviction that would have made Adelaide shudder and protest vehemently had she known.
The Armetia estate was smaller in scale than the Berthier estate. Adelaide’s party was shown at once to the garden where Violet waited. The garden had been chosen with the thought that even if conversation ran dry, they could fill the silence with meaningless small talk like “What lovely flowers” and “My mother grew them herself.”
Violet rose to her feet at the sound of Adelaide entering, then faltered when an unfamiliar young man appeared alongside her.
“This is Viscount Lionel Andreas Lavota. He has yet to receive formal confirmation of his title from His Majesty, but I vouch for his standing.”
“I am Violet Roberta Armetia.”
“Lady Violet, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Lionel bent slightly at the waist and kissed the back of Violet’s hand, just as he had practiced.
At the sight of his dark, tree-root-colored hair, Violet’s mind flew back to the time she had met a young man who had greeted her in much the same way.
‘Romer always…….’
“Lady Violet. How long are we expected to stand?”
Adelaide cut through Violet’s thoughts without mercy. Violet hurriedly showed them to their seats.
One more person had been added to the expected number, but the garden always had seating prepared for five or six, so there was no need for any great fuss.
“Um, does Lady Adelaide like flowers?”
“Not particularly.”
“Oh…. You don’t like them…….”
The effort of arranging the garden setting had been for nothing. Violet sipped her tea awkwardly. It was the same calming tea she had already downed three cups of that morning.
“The Duke sticks his nose in where it doesn’t belong and tires everyone out. I don’t know Lady Violet well, and Lady Violet doesn’t know me, so there’s no need to force anything.”
“Even so, Duke Berthier is such a kind father. He worries about Lady Adelaide’s friendships, and he even allowed you to bring your betrothed along…….”
“Betrothed?”
Lionel, who had been quietly admiring the flowers and sipping his tea, choked and broke into a coughing fit. Adelaide grimaced and patted him on the back.
“What exactly have you been learning? You can’t even drink a cup of tea properly. It’s embarrassing.”
“Cough, cough, cough, I’m, I’m sor, ry, cough, my lady. I apologize, Lady Violet.”
“Not at all. I must have misspoken. It seems you haven’t made an announcement yet, and here I was acting like I knew. I’m sorry, Lady Adelaide, Viscount Lavota.”
Violet found it curious to watch Adelaide tend to Lionel so attentively while speaking harshly to him at the same time. She couldn’t look away.
‘The Berthier lady may not be as frightening as the rumors say.’
Violet’s eyes grew wet when she saw Adelaide wipe the corner of Lionel’s mouth with a handkerchief.
She had once had someone like that in her life. A lover who couldn’t help but wipe away whatever she clumsily spilled, always with his own hand.
“You look happy, Lady Adelaide.”
“If tending to someone looks like happiness to you, Lady Violet, you’ll make a fine wife.”
“Tending to someone? Isn’t looking after the one you love something to be grateful for and glad about?”
“Do I look grateful and glad right now, Lady Violet?”
“Your expression doesn’t show it, but look at Lady Adelaide. You haven’t stopped looking after Viscount Lavota for a single moment.”
Adelaide was in the process of handing Lionel back the handkerchief, now wet with tea. She thought to herself that whatever blindness had taken hold at the Berthier estate seemed to be spreading into an epidemic beyond its walls.
“It seems your eyesight isn’t very good, Lady Violet. I do hope you seek treatment soon.”
She didn’t keep the thought to herself.
“Oh, perhaps it’s from always reading small print at the convent. Thank you for your concern, Lady Adelaide.”
Adelaide tilted her teacup in silence. Violet’s gaze reminded her of Amy and Lionel. She felt a bad feeling coming on.
She sensed the danger that one wrong word here could turn two headaches into three.
“What a lovely garden, Lady Violet.”
