Episode 19
I handed the hat to Marie and said in a curt tone.
“You’re openly showing that you were worried. Are you hoping for praise?”
“Ah, no. Miss, that’s not it.”
“Fine, then straighten that ugly expression. Instead, you should show gratitude. Since we came through the back door, they won’t notice that I went for a walk alone.”
“Yes, thank you so much.”
Marie, who had been forcing an awkward smile at my reproachful scolding, soon carefully broached the subject while glancing at me with an expression clearly full of anxiety.
“Miss.”
“Why?”
“Seril…….”
Marie hesitates without continuing her words. As if trying to express with her whole body that she fears me, her fidgeting and whining resemble a blind, mangy puppy that can’t open its eyes.
Her appearance, slightly biting her lips as if to evoke pity and welling up tears in her eyes, is enough to stir sympathy.
Whether it’s the effect of subduing her with violence and threats showing like this, pathos was dripping from even her trivial actions. It’s a rare purity that would make any man who knows women smack his lips.
The problem was that such aspects didn’t appeal to me as a woman at all.
I untied the knot of the robe tied with a ribbon and replied with a listless expression. Hearing about Seril as soon as I arrived made me feel not so good. That’s why my tone wasn’t kind either.
“Why are you telling me about that girl’s matters?”
“Seril is desperately calling for you, Miss.”
Aha. I drew a long arc at the corners of my mouth and smiled brightly. I thought she was a tough bitch and would hold out for quite a while, but it seems she couldn’t endure and raised the white flag.
I was just thinking of locking her in the mansion’s secret room in preparation for Madame de Lavallier’s visit, but she couldn’t even last two full days.
I twisted my lips crookedly and harbored a deep sneer. It was unbecoming to rampage like a bee-stung bull, so I was thinking of various methods, but since she collapsed so easily, the excitement deflated completely.
It seems the venom I had seen was just a hollow illusion full of pretense. A sandcastle that would vainly crumble if not under Roena’s shadow. If that’s the case, I can’t understand why she acted so stiff like starched cloth.
“Um, what should I do?”
Marie seemed like she wanted to run to Seril and let her out right away. Her twitching feet were exactly like that.
Probably, if I permit it, she would take her out of the capsa, steam her whole body with hot stones, apply mashed herbs, and carefully wrap her with muslin cloth.
And she would lament the fate of the one who easily succumbed to the cruel master. With sympathy arising from shared misfortune, how could she not?
But I had no intention of forgiving Seril so quickly like this. Because human nature doesn’t change that easily.
Right now, she might lick my feet to avoid punishment, but could she do that even when her mind is at ease and her movements are free?
I can’t guarantee it. Isn’t it better than me getting hurt due to unnecessary mercy? What’s wrong with not being altruistic!
Above all, I don’t know any way to easily release someone I can’t confidently say is ‘my person.’
In fact, people like Marie are the type very weak to violence and appeasement. Therefore, if I appropriately offer whip and carrot, they won’t think of betrayal.
But Seril is not like that. For her, only the whip is needed, not the carrot. Because Seril is filled to the bone with feelings for Roena.
From before, she showed extreme loyalty to Roena as if she were a knight.
She was so excessive that even if Roena just blinked her eyes slowly twice, she would tremble as if the world was ending.
It was a very ridiculous sight. Probably, even if it were a child born from one’s own belly in pain, it couldn’t be this dreadful.
But Seril did anything for Roena. To the extent of volunteering as Margo’s limbs for Roena and scheming all sorts of villainous plots.
If Margo was the black curtain, Seril was the faithful horse carrying out that black curtain. Everything was accomplished through Margo and Seril’s group.
Even when numerous maids were replaced after my foster father’s death, when my mother and I took control of the mansion, she persisted in screaming for Roena until the end, and it was also Seril who stubbornly sent her to Madame de Lavallier to allow her to attend the ball.
And when my mother and I were imprisoned together, she stood behind Roena and laughed very satisfyingly. Hee hee hee.
I know that obsession, I clearly saw with these two eyes the vicious affection for Roena, so should I accept surrender so easily? No way.
Therefore, even if it takes a lot of time, I intend to put in effort so that fear of me can seep into the very bottom of her mind.
“Go wash Seril, let her drink soft soup. Apply medicine to her wounds and bandage them. Clean the inside of the capsa neatly too.”
“Are you forgiving Cheryl?”
“Forgiving? Did you just utter the word forgiving?”
I lightly tapped Marie’s cheek with my finger and smiled arrogantly. Since I’ve rinsed my mouth with the whole, now it’s time to eat the main, isn’t it?
Marie shudders and steps back one pace.
“Miss…….”
The voice leaking from her parted lips contains utter terror.
“You can’t kill her. How long has it been since I entered this mansion? Come on, move quickly. Hurry as if your tail is falling off. You’re the only one who can help me.”
The voice coming out as if singing a song is very cheerful. I felt like humming a tune if I could. So, I lightly urged Marie with a pleasant voice and stripped off my dress with a whoosh.
During the remaining time ahead, I planned to take a bath in hot water, receive a light oil massage, and reflect on Madame de Lavallier who will arrive tomorrow.
It seems the day will pass quite busily, even arousing a strange excitement. The amusement I felt toward Perinul feels like it’s reaching a climax through Seril.
Today seems like it will be enjoyable. At my words, Marie shakes her head with a disgusted look and bites her lips. I found that appearance quite cute yet pitiful, so I ended up laughing out loud hee hee hee.
Because I know that although she shudders like that, she will soon make a resigned face and diligently move her body as usual to faithfully follow my orders.
And exactly 6 hours later, Seril’s cleanly washed body was put back into the capsa and moved to the secret room of the Wischwaltz family.
***
The next day, from early dawn, everyone in the mansion started moving busily. Although they had done a major cleaning in advance yesterday and prepared the banquet food for today, an unexpected commotion occurred due to my mother not liking it.
Well, it’s the first external guest since becoming the mistress of the Wischwaltz family, and even if it’s a relative, it’s been a long time since visiting the mansion, so it’s understandable.
Moreover, since the person is who she is, one can’t help but pay careful attention. Therefore, my mother’s nerves directing the maids were extremely sensitive.
But I thought such a appearance of my mother looked very lively. Although the forces centered on Margo show contempt for my mother, on a day like today, her personally stepping forward and commanding the maids with her chin looked like a true noble lady.
Of course, she is showing a somewhat hysterical appearance and getting irritated at the maids showing sluggish movements, but it was much better than her previous lethargic appearance.
It seems that Margo holding her breath for a while due to me has been a great help to my mother.
That’s why she can single out and sternly scold one maid just for the reason that a bit of dust remains on the window sill. In many ways, she is the very mistress of a noble family.
The problem was how long that appearance would last. Because the resolute yet graceful noble lady appearance my mother is showing will obviously crumble helplessly in front of Madame de Lavallier.
Since meeting Madame de Lavallier and her followers before marrying my stepfather , my mother’s impression of her has been close to disgust and fear. Like a mouse in front of a cat.
It was a very different aspect from me, who mocked her to the point of driving her out—though it’s more accurate to say Lavallie ran out of the house.
The past me and Madame de Lavallier had a very bad relationship. She despised me for my bad bloodline, and I felt unpleasant at her gaze that regarded me cheaply like meat hanging in a butcher shop and evaluated me arbitrarily.
Above all, I couldn’t have good feelings toward her behavior of always frowning and pouring out acerbic verbal abuse whenever we met. To the extent that I hated her next to Roena and Margo, what more is there to say.
The words she always said were only ‘No’, ‘Can’t you even do that?’, ‘Blood doesn’t go anywhere’, so it wasn’t unreasonable for rebellion to arise.
Moreover, isn’t Madame de Lavallier the witch who inflicted shame on my mother? Therefore, if I gave insults, I gave them, but treating her politely as aunt was close to impossible.
Because of that, she and I argued and fought greatly every other day.
The fights always started from her nitpicking my behavior.
At that time, immersed in beautiful jewels and new dresses, without reflecting on what family’s member I had become, I felt extremely annoyed at her who didn’t accept my vulgar jokes and complaints.
So, like a venomous snake, I reacted sensitively to every word coming out of her mouth. To the extent that Madame de Lavallier cried out pointing at such me, ‘Such a rough fighting cock!’
In fact, such fights were more advantageous to me than to her. Because I was less rational than her, not elegant, and didn’t know the extent of hurting people.
My thug temperament from roaming the streets also played a part in that aspect. As Lavallier said, I was a fighting cock in the cockpit. A nasty bitch who feels satisfied only after seeing the opponent’s blood with sharply honed claws.
Unfortunately, although Madame was a woman oppressively intimidating enough to instill fear in opponents, she was very vulnerable to curses with half the content implying sexual nuances.
Even if she was a master dominating the social circles, in fights without rules—not directly attacking the opponent—she was no different from an immature child.
How could the noble way of speech that circumlocutorily mocks the opponent compare to rough curses only heard in back alleys?
Thanks to that, victory was always mine. Even though I burst into tears unable to control my temper.
Among the verbal abuses I poured on Madame de Lavallier, the most powerful was the nickname ‘Stone Doll’.
This was one of the metaphors I used to refer to her, a word made to mock her doll-like appearance that prioritizes only etiquette like an emotionless stone.
It was also a word targeting Lavallie’s situation of not conceiving a child despite being married for a long time.
In fact, since Madame de Lavallier foamed at the mouth and collapsed upon hearing this from me, how can I fully express the shame and anger she felt.
The reason she cut ties with my foster father—not sending even a single letter until his death—was because of this nickname.
Yet now, having returned, to dress up from morning putting effort to look good to the opponent I fought fiercely with as if starting a war, where is there a greater irony than this. Even a well-written comedy wouldn’t be more amusing than this.
☆☆☆☆
By Anna 💓
