The Mob Noble Lady Whose Inner Voice Leaks Everywhere Has No Idea Her Faves Can Hear It All - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Morning We Must Not React

[Liese’s Perspective]

The first morning back at the main estate dawned bright and clear.

Liese tidied her hair in front of the mirror. She hadn’t brought the maid from her grandparents' house; instead, a young maid assigned by the head maid had come to assist her. Her hands were deft and gentle, and whenever their eyes met in the mirror, she bowed her head with a shy smile.

(Handpicked by the head maid, no doubt... I'm so sorry you drew the short straw of attending to the unsmiling young lady.)

Once the ribbon was tied, the maid said, "It suits you wonderfully," and stepped back.

Liese looked at her reflection in the mirror. Pale hair, pale eyes, and a utterly expressionless face. Her grandmother used to say, "You’re growing to look so much like your mother," but Liese had virtually no memories of her mother.

(The face and the tendency to catch fevers easily are the same... Honestly, I didn't need to inherit the fragile constitution too.)

She tried lifting the corners of her mouth.

They didn't budge even a millimeter.

(Well, whatever. Mob characters don't need smiling sprite variations anyway.)

◇

In the dining room, the family was already assembled.

The seats for her stepmother and Emma were vacant again this morning. According to Heinz, they would be staying at the other party’s villa for a while after the tea party.

"Good morning, Father. Big Brother, Big Sister. You too, Theo."

"Ah. Good morning."

Her father looked up from his newspaper. Her brother gave a brief nod, and her sister smiled, asking, "Did you sleep well?" Theo muttered something under his breath as he tore off a piece of bread.

It was much more normal than last night.

(Phew, good. Everyone was just tired yesterday.)

Liese took her seat. On the table stood warm bread, eggs, thinly sliced ham, and a dish of fruit. Casual as ever, she checked the plate in front of her brother. No prawns. Which made complete sense, seeing as it was breakfast.

(When should I go talk to the head chef? Quietly, so I don't embarrass Big Brother...)

Her brother’s knife paused for the briefest fraction of a second. Then it resumed its movement as if nothing had happened.

Liese looked at her father. Deep furrows were etched into the brow of the man reading the newspaper.

(Is that an article about the Prime Minister’s Office first thing in the morning? Father's so meticulous, right down to the angle he folds his newspaper. Four years ago, he was doing that too...)

She was about to recall the morning from four years ago, but stopped herself. Instead, she looked at her sister.

(Big Sister is practically glowing even in the morning. The concept of "bedhead" simply doesn't apply to her.)

Johanna took a sip of tea and set her cup down silently. A flawless execution of etiquette. Except the cup placed on the saucer was rattling gently in tiny, rhythmic chitters.

(...Did she hurt her wrist, maybe?)

For a while now, Theo had been spreading jam onto the very same piece of bread for the third time.

(Theo really likes sweet things, doesn't he? I love them too. Look at that—our first common ground in four years.)

Theo nearly knocked over the jam jar. Next to him, Albert caught it silently and restored it to its original spot.

The breakfast table was filled with a strange, taut tension. Everyone was speaking normally. Eating normally. And yet, for some reason, everyone's back was as stiff as a board.

(Was the morning at the main estate always this solemn? Grandfather’s house was so much more laid-back.)

Her father folded his newspaper.

"Liese. What are your plans for today?"

"Nothing in particular until the tailor arrives."

"I see... If you wish to see the town, I shall have the carriage prepared. You should go with Johanna."

Her sister’s face lit up instantly.

"Yes, let's! If there's anything you want, just say the word."

"Thank you very much, Big Sister."

There was nothing she particularly wanted. But hearing the word "town" brought a certain scene to Liese's mind.

It was a scene from the original game. Her brother, working late at the Prime Minister’s Office, would spot a long line on East Street on his way home. The aroma of honey would waft all the way out to the street. He would look at the queue with longing, only to walk right past it in the end. After all, the perfect heir apparent could hardly be seen lining up in public for sweets.

When she first learned about that in a tiny column in the official fanbook, her past self had laughed out loud, feeling just a little bit touched.

Liese turned toward her sister.

"Speaking of which, Big Sister... I heard a baked goods shop is opening on East Street next month. A queue is sure to form immediately, so you ought to go early."

(Big Brother is secretly a total sweet tooth. Honey tart is his absolute fave! The ones from that shop are exquisite, but he never gets to eat a single slice...)

"Ahem-cough!"

Her brother choked violently.

Covering his mouth with his napkin, he turned away, his shoulders trembling. Her father slowly reopened his newspaper. Her sister looked down, clutching the napkin on her lap tightly. Theo began diligently counting the patterns on the ceiling.

"Big Brother?"

"...It is nothing. The tea simply entered my windpipe."

(Ah, his canon weak stomach acting up! Must be from overwork at the Prime Minister's Office. Choking on tea first thing in the morning... he must be completely exhausted.)

Her brother's coughing grew even deeper.

"Albert," her father spoke from behind his newspaper. "Shall I call for a doctor?"

"...That will not be necessary."

Her brother took a deep breath and set down his napkin. His face was flushed, but his expression had reverted to its usual rigid posture.

"You mentioned a shop on East Street, was it?"

"Yes. I thought Big Sister might like sweet things."

"...I see."

Her brother remained silent after that, quietly cutting his eggs.

Her sister stole a quick glance at her brother over the rim of her tea cup. Her father turned a page of the newspaper. Having finished counting the ceiling, Theo appeared to be counting the window frames this time.

(Everyone's so quiet in the morning. I wonder if it's just the family tradition here?)

Liese picked up a piece of fruit. It was a sweet pear.

◇

The day passed without incident.

Her appointment with the tailor was postponed until the next day, so Liese spent the day wandering through the mansion. The corridors, seen for the first time in four years, felt shorter than her memory served, while the library felt much grander. As she opened a book by the window, the afternoon sunlight spilled gently across her lap.

Her brother was absent at the dinner table, detained late at the Prime Minister’s Office.

(Big Brother is so busy... Even with his delicate stomach.)

Her father’s spoon struck his bowl with a sharp clink.

◇

The next morning, Liese stepped into the dining room and froze in her tracks.

Right in the center of the table was an array of baked goods.

Small shell-shaped pastries. Hard biscuits kneaded with nuts. Delicate, thin honey wafers. And right in the middle sat a round, glistening tart. The sweet, rich scent of honey filled the entire dining room.

Printed in gold lettering on the accompanying wrapping paper were the words: East Street.

(...Huh?)

"Good morning, Liese," her brother said, his voice as stiff and formal as always.

"Big Brother, what is all this?"

"Gifts."

Her brother offered a brief response before taking a sip of his tea.

"It seems they were handing out trial batches baked prior to the shop's grand opening. Someone at the Prime Minister’s Office brought them in."

(It hasn't even opened yet, and he's already gotten his hands on them...!)

Liese stared at the sweets on the table. She had only mentioned it yesterday morning. She hadn't even given the name of the shop. With nothing more than "East Street" and "baked goods," he had managed to track it down within a single day.

(As expected of Big Brother. A perfectionist through and through—his information gathering is flawless!)

Her brother set his tea cup down with slightly more force than necessary.

Her father began slicing the tart. It was rare for the Prime Minister himself to wield a knife at the table. The very first slice was placed on her brother’s plate. The second slice, for reasons unknown, was placed onto Liese’s.

"I can wait until later, Father..."

"Eat."

Her father said nothing more, proceeding to place the third slice onto her sister's plate.

Liese picked up her fork. The honey layer yielded softly under the pressure. As she took a bite, the fragrant aroma of caramelized sugar bloomed through her senses.

(...It's delicious. The very tart I stared at in illustrations so many times in my past life! So this is what it actually tastes like!)

Her expression remained completely unchanged, just as always.

Across the table, her brother brought a piece of the tart to his mouth, chewing slowly. The hard line of his brow softened ever so slightly.

(Big Brother is eating the honey tart!)

Liese stared at her brother, unwilling to even blink.

(And he looks... kind of happy! ...Just getting to see this face makes coming back to the main estate completely worth it!)

Her brother’s hand froze mid-air, fork still in hand. His chewing stopped completely. His ears rapidly flushed a vivid shade of crimson.

Her sister buried her face in her napkin, coughing to suppress a laugh. Theo picked up his entire plate with the tart on it, using it to hide his face. Only her father maintained a completely expressionless face, quietly cutting his own slice of tart into tiny pieces.

(Big Brother's frozen solid, Big Sister's coughing her lungs out... Everyone seems so busy again this morning.)

Liese tilted her head in slight confusion and took a second bite.

◇

After breakfast, Liese headed toward the library.

As she passed the corridor in front of the kitchen, voices drifted out from inside. It was the voice of the young attendant who had served at the dining table yesterday morning.

"I'm telling you, Lady Liese said it herself! She said a baked goods shop would be opening on East Street next month!"

"Before they've even put up a sign?"

"That's right! I passed through East Street yesterday afternoon, and it was just an empty building. But then this morning, the Young Master actually brought back pastries from that exact shop!"

Liese walked past without slowing her pace.

She was well used to rumors. Four years ago, the maids with the gold ribbons had given her more than her fill. Compared to that, going from "the unsmiling young lady" to "the unusual young lady" was hardly a big deal.

Behind her, the maid's voice bounced with excitement:

"...They say Lady Liese's predictions always come true!"