The Mob Noble Lady Whose Inner Voice Leaks Everywhere Has No Idea Her Faves Can Hear It All - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Better Off Being Like Air

[Liese's Side]

My stepmother returned to the estate at noon on my fifth day back.

That day, no one else in the family was at home. Father and Big Brother had been at the Prime Minister’s Office since morning. Big Sister had gone out to deliver a purchase order to Madame Rosa’s workshop, and Theo was at the Knights' training grounds.

I was reading a book in the library when Heinz came to fetch me.

"Madam has returned. She wishes to extend her greetings to you, Lady Liese."

(...Here it comes.)

I closed my book. My fingertips felt slightly cold.

◇

rightsized and redesigned over the past four years, the south-facing salon looked completely different.

The wallpaper had been replaced with a pale gold, and a new lounge chair sat by the window. The vase on the table overflowed with out-of-season white roses.

Seated on that lounge chair was my stepmother, Beatrice.

"Oh my, Liese."

My stepmother stood up, opening her arms wide.

"Forgive me for the delayed greeting. I was inundated with invitations to tea parties and simply couldn't tear myself away."

It was a flawless smile—the angle of her lips, the subtle squint of her eyes, the tilt of her head. It was the exact smile noblewomen of high society were said to model themselves after.

I pinched my skirt and curtsied deeply.

"I have returned, Stepmother. I am glad to see you in good health."

"Yes, thank you. And you as well."

My stepmother stared at my face. From the top of my head to the tips of my shoes.

"Look how much you've grown. The air at your grandmother's must have suited you quite well—to think you didn't return home for four whole years."

It wasn't that I hadn't returned; it was an agreement that I wouldn't come back until I turned fifteen.

I nodded silently.

"Things here must feel suffocating, wouldn't you say? Unlike the countryside, there are so many rules to follow."

"I shall do my utmost to fulfill my duties."

"I see. How admirable of you."

My stepmother opened her fan, covering her mouth as she laughed.

"As quiet as ever, aren't you?"

Four years ago, behind that exact same fan, she had said the exact same words in the exact same voice.

—What an unsmiling child. Why must she be so utterly charmingless?

My lips remained unmoving today as well.

(Well yes, of course I'm quiet. I don't have a single thing I want to talk about in front of you.)

(Still, the real deal is way prettier than her illustration. In the official fanbook, she only got a single picture in the social section and was written off with the line 'puts on a good face for strangers.' ...Though her face really is perfectly flawless.)

Pretty, always smiling, and somebody who didn't like me—that was my stepmother.

(Her dress is new, too. The lace on the sleeves is probably from this spring's latest collection. Can the household budget of a Prime Minister's wife really cover buying this every season?)

"Have you already decided on your debut dress?"

"Yes. I asked the tailor to make one using modest fabric."

My stepmother's fan came to a sudden halt. Then, she smiled slightly softer than before.

"...I see. It is a fine thing to know your place."

(Indeed, I know my place very well.)

Just then, small footsteps sounded from the salon doorway.

Turning around, I saw a girl standing there. She had honey-colored hair tucked into high twin pigtails, looking remarkably like my stepmother.

It was my younger sister, Emma.

She had been eight years old four years ago. I think she had followed behind me once or twice back then. Now she was twelve. She had grown taller, and her facial features were much sharper.

"Emma. Greet your big sister."

Emma didn't budge from the doorway. She stared fixedly at my face as if looking at a rare oddity.

"...Big Sister really never smiles, does she?"

Leaving only those words behind, she spun around and walked away.

My stepmother let out a sigh behind her fan.

"Forgive her. That child is far too honest."

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "She was simply stating the truth."

(Emma's grown so much. She looks just like Stepmother. ...She must have been raised hearing all sorts of things about me.)

A small creak echoed deep within my chest. It wasn't quite painful. It was just a sound that had been sitting there ever since four years ago.

◇

After taking my leave from my stepmother's salon and stepping into the hallway, a maid was waiting for me.

"Lady Liese. How should we arrange your tea? Everyone will return by evening, so perhaps together in the salon..."

I paused to think.

Everyone coming back in the evening would surely be exhausted. Father and Big Brother worked at the Prime Minister's Office all day. Big Sister would be coming back from the workshop, and Theo from the training grounds. If their sister—whom they hadn't seen in four years—were sitting there, it would only force them to walk on eggshells again.

Over the past five days, my family had been constantly walking on eggshells for my sake. The baked goods, the tailor... everyone was so kind. They were so excessively kind that they ended up coughing or choking on their words every now and then.

"I will take tea in my room."

The maid blinked. "By yourself, my lady?"

"Yes. I do not wish to burden anyone."

◇

The tea brought up to my room was piping hot.

A pot, a single cup, and two baked sweets on a small saucer. They were the shell-shaped treats from East Street that I had eaten two mornings ago. It seemed the head chef had saved the leftover "gift" Big Brother brought home.

Once the maid withdrew, the room sank into quiet.

I sat in the chair by the window and wrapped both hands around the cup.

I used to do this often at Grandmother's house. I didn't dislike drinking tea alone. I didn't have to walk on eggshells around anyone, nor did I have to make anyone walk on eggshells around me.

Afternoons at my grandparents' house were always quiet. Grandfather would gaze at old maps in his study, while Grandmother did mending in the living room. I would read books in my room, slowly draining the pot of tea. Occasionally, Grandmother would peek her head in and drop off a single cookie—asking nothing, saying nothing.

That quietness was comfortable for me, because it reassured me that I wasn't getting in anyone's way.

I recalled Emma's face from earlier. Those eyes looking at a rare curiosity.

I recalled my stepmother's fan, held at the exact same angle as four years ago.

And then, I remembered that morning four years ago.

Father had knelt at the entrance and given me a promise. But right after, he returned to the inner depths of the estate, leaving me to walk through the garden alone and board the carriage. Neither Big Brother, nor Big Sister, nor Theo were anywhere to be seen. The only one who saw me off to the very end was my stepmother—with a face that said finally, I don't have to look at this creepy child anymore.

I had always thought I was being disposed of as a nuisance.

Now, I could understand just a little bit. Father had let me go to protect his daughter. The official fanbook had taught me that. The reason Father turned his back so quickly that morning might have been for that same reason.

However, understanding a fact and being okay with it were two entirely different things.

Somewhere deep in my heart, my eleven-year-old self was still crouching down, clutching her knees like a child who had been thrown away. No matter how much my fifteen-year-old self tried to explain it logically, that child just wouldn't lift her head.

I took a sip of tea. It was a little astringent.

(It's fine. It really is.)

In the empty room, I thought to myself.

(I'm going to die at seventeen anyway.)

Outside the window, the gardener was clipping rose bushes. A dry snip, snip reached my ears.

(Two more years. Whether I'm here or not, the story of this household will go on just fine. Big Brother will climb the ranks at the Prime Minister's Office, Big Sister will marry into the neighboring kingdom, and Theo will become a knight. Even Emma will surely smile someday.)

A single line from a family tree floated behind my eyes. A single line in the background with no character sprite and no dialogue.

(If that's the case, I'm better off being like air.)

I popped a pastry into my mouth. It was sweet. Remembering the happy look on Big Brother's face when he ate them made the creaking deep in my chest quiet down just a little.

(Still, there are so many things I want to see through to the end. Big Brother's honey tart, Big Sister's green dress, Theo's...)

Just as I was about to think about Theo, my eyes drifted back outside the window.

Deep in the garden, in the shadow of the rose hedge, there were two figures.

One was my stepmother. Her pale gold dress reflected the sunlight brightly.

The other was Heinz.

The butler stood right beside my stepmother, leaning down to whisper something into her ear. My stepmother hid her mouth behind her fan and nodded slightly. There were no other servants in sight. Even the gardener had disappeared before I realized it.

I put down my cup.

Something caught at the bottom of my memories. A very short story I had read in my past life—I felt like something about the Ahrens family's veteran butler had been written there.

In the shadow of the hedge, Heinz raised his head. For a brief second, it felt as though he looked right at my window.

I quietly drew the curtains.

(Come to think of it... that man is embezzling funds, isn't he?)