#5. The Law of First Impressions
The weekend of Grand Duke Verbritz’s visit had arrived.
It was early morning, and the sun was only just beginning to rise beyond the distant hills surrounding the estate. Even at that hour, the Béarn townhouse was in quite an uproar as everyone prepared to welcome a guest for the first time in ages.
Albris, who had been the townhouse’s master until now, wasn’t the sort of man to bring people home with him.
If he had to meet someone, he preferred his office in the building in front of the assembly hall, or the elegant wine bar next door. And since he wasn’t seeing anyone, there was even less reason for him to host guests.
As for Lady Eleonore, the only one who might have invited someone to the estate, she’d been confined to bed ever since she’d fallen ill three months ago. After waking up, she’d lost her memory, so naturally she hadn’t had a chance to invite anyone over.
Of course, that wasn’t to say they’d had no guests at all.
A few people had come to visit Eleonore while she was sick, and Viscountess Lorschua had visited as well.
But there was no need to make a fuss over guests who’d come to visit a sickbed.
Viscountess Lorschua wasn’t someone who expected any particular formalities, and she disliked such bothersome things herself.
So this was truly the first time in ages they’d welcomed a guest.
Rubbing her heavy, sleepy eyelids, Eleonore came downstairs to the first floor and stared in surprise at how different the dining room looked from the day before.
“I didn’t know we had a carpet like this in our house…”
Eleonore murmured to herself as she looked at the elegant cream-colored carpet with its herringbone pattern spread across the floor.
The stone floor had given the room a cool, sophisticated feel, while the cream-colored carpet made it seem a little warmer. It also went rather well with the antique brown walnut table and chairs at the center of the room.
Honestly, it finally looked a little like a dining room.
Perhaps it was because of the hostess lessons she’d been taking from Etie. Details like this, which she would once have passed by without a thought, now seemed quite fresh.
“We ordered it just recently. Your brother is rather oblivious to these sorts of things, you know.”
Then, a familiar, comforting voice came from behind her.
Etie had come up without a sound. She gently wrapped her arms around her daughter from behind, resting them around her waist.
“Good morning, Eli. You’ll have to take care of things like this from now on, in your brother’s place.”
“Good morning, but your arms are a little… I’m uncomfortableee.”
Though the changed dining room had surprised her, Eleonore hadn’t quite woken up yet. Still groggy, she wriggled in that warm embrace and let the end of her words trail off cutely.
It was a precious little whine from her beloved daughter—one she’d never have heard if Eleonore had been fully awake.
Only a year ago, she’d been a sweet girl who always ran into her mother’s arms. Now, Etie only got to see that side of her on rare occasions like this.
So Etie’s arms tightened all the more around her daughter’s waist.
“We’ll be parting soon, so don’t cling to me so much. It’ll make me sad.”
At Etie’s words, Eleonore jolted and asked,
“Parting? Are you going back to the territory?”
“I have to. Your younger brother has become quite dependable, but we can’t leave the border unattended for too long.”
Etie stroked her daughter’s slender waist beneath her skirt as she continued.
“Besides, your father’s practically dying to get back out there.”
Etie spoke as though she were fed up with his antics at his age. At her mother’s teasing complaint, Eleonore’s lips curled into a faint smile.
Sparring with the family’s knights in the townhouse’s training yard every morning was the most important part of Obert’s daily routine.
And evading her father when he came toward her reeking of sweat was the most important part of Eleonore’s morning routine.
Before long, she felt a light weight rest gently on her shoulder. At the familiar, comforting scent she was used to every night, Eleonore turned her head and pressed her cheek against her mother’s forehead.
“Mother, aren’t you going back too soon?”
“The imperial family only approved a one-month stay in the capital to begin with. There isn’t much time left. Even if I wanted to stay longer, I can’t, Eli.”
Etie’s next words tickled Eleonore’s ear more than usual.
“Eli. Don’t you want to come back to the territory?”
Etie spoke in a low voice. Her arms tightened even more around her daughter’s waist.
At her mother’s question, Eleonore gently closed her eyes.
If she wanted to survive, going to the territory, as her mother suggested, would be the sensible choice. It wasn’t as though Eleonore hadn’t considered it.
The West might be part of the Empire, but its ruler wasn’t the emperor. It was her father.
They said the fertile plains of the West were so rich that crops would ripen even if you planted them upside down. The heretics beyond the mountains had coveted those fertile plains for ages.
But the West, united under House Béarn, had never once fallen to their invasions in all that time.
That was why the Margraves of Béarn had been called the Indomitable Shield for generations.
So if she went back to the territory, as her mother suggested, she could probably live comfortably in her parents’ warm embrace. As the princess of the West, her life would be far more luxurious than Seo Juha’s had ever been.
Yet every time she thought about it, an indescribable, vague reluctance clouded Eleonore’s mind.
The empress, Julian, and Domi, too…
There were predators everywhere, trying to use her to get their hands on House Béarn. And yet, strangely enough, she had no desire at all to go back to the territory.
It wasn’t because she liked life in the capital. Nor was it because living in the townhouse suited her.
Even Eleonore herself didn’t know where that vague reluctance came from.
What if—just what if…
Don’t interfere with the story. Don’t get in the way of the Julian you love ascending the throne.
Could some trace of Eleonore still remain somewhere in her mind?
Could that vague reluctance come from the traces Eleonore had left behind?
But, you know. I’m sorry, Eleonore.
Even if you love Julian that much, I’m not going to die as pointlessly as you did.
“Now that I’m healthy again, I’ll come down to visit often, so you won’t miss me too much, Mother.”
Eleonore spoke with a bittersweet smile.
She’d often said things like that in her old world, too. She hadn’t expected to say them here as well.
“You always know just what to say, my sweet girl.”
Her mother’s lips, now so familiar, gently brushed her soft cheek. Feeling their moist warmth against her skin, Eleonore quietly closed her eyes in her mother’s comforting embrace.
I don’t know.
This woman definitely wasn’t my mother. My mother didn’t have sky-blue eyes or such pale skin.
So why did my heart feel so full?
At some point, her real mom and dad’s faces had grown hazy in her memories. And the woman named Etie and the man named Obert were filling that gap.
It really felt as though the woman holding her from behind was her mother.
Was this because of the traces Eleonore had left behind, too?
Ah, whatever. Whatever.
Seo Juha, don’t think too hard. The you from before was hit by a truck, and the woman behind you is your mother now.
The mother and daughter stayed wrapped in a back hug, keeping the servants bustling around the dining room busy for quite a while that morning.
As a result, despite everyone having been bustling about since early morning, breakfast at House Béarn started a little later than usual.
#.
The margrave and his wife seemed to have their hearts set on Grand Duke Dmitri as a prospective husband for their youngest daughter.
It was only natural. For the past few days, whenever Obert saw Eleonore, he’d sung Dmitri’s praises.
Of course, the subjects Obert was usually interested in were combat, duels, fights, and war. So the stories he told his daughter were all about Dmitri’s many achievements—or rather, his exploits—in the North.
The only problem was that although most women would probably yawn and ask what was so interesting about Obert’s stories, Eleonore found them quite fascinating.
This world might be the setting of a romance fantasy novel, but her father’s stories weren’t romance fantasy. They were proper, full-fledged fantasy, with a few awkward jokes sprinkled in for his daughter’s sake.
It had once been Seo Juha’s favorite genre.
When she heard how Dmitri had gone out to search for scouts who hadn’t returned from beyond the city gates, gotten lost, and then wiped out a goblin village he’d stumbled across all by himself, her sky-blue eyes sparkled.
When she heard how, facing down the trolls swarming an isolated storehouse, the moonlight had glimmered in the trolls’ blood on his blade, she looked like a woman standing before a glittering jewel.
And when she heard how the grand duke had leaped from the wall and used gravity to slice off the head of an ice ogre charging the ramparts, she couldn’t help gasping.
Seeing his daughter’s enthusiastic reactions, Obert was already getting ahead of himself, imagining it was finally time for him to have grandchildren.
But that was only because Obert’s stories about Dmitri’s exploits were entertaining.
Even though the body was female, the person inside was a man. He could appreciate Dmitri as a fellow man, but developing romantic feelings for him over those stories was still a bit much for Eleonore.
Still, if the grand duke were as insanely handsome as that other guy—handsome enough to make her gasp at first sight—that’d be another matter!
At the thought that had crossed her mind unconsciously, Eleonore shuddered.
Hey! Have you lost your mind, Seo Juha? What do you mean, ‘as insanely handsome as someone else’?
Ha! You little hussy. The next time you see Julian, you’ll just spread your legs for him without a second thought.
The young lady standing before the mirror to change clothes shuddered, then slapped herself across the cheek.
At this strange behavior from their young lady, which they hadn’t seen in quite some time, the maids paused what they were doing.
She’d stopped acting strangely for a while after the margrave and his wife came to the capital… But the moment she heard her parents were going back, she started again. Our young lady really is still just a little girl.
The maids simply gazed at the young lady before them with sympathy, giving no thought to their own situation.
“Ah… Sorry, keep going.”
Still, she seemed to know when she was being embarrassing; Eleonore’s face flushed red. Her skin was so pale that the blush looked even brighter.
As the maids’ hands began moving busily again, Eleonore glanced at the blouse and skirt hanging beside the mirror.
Obert wasn’t the only one trying to pair his daughter with the grand duke.
For a while now, her mother had been saying she needed an outfit for a social gathering, or for tea with the princess…
and using one excuse after another to drag her daughter to the capital’s dress shops over and over.
Thanks to that, the empty room beside Eleonore’s bedroom had become her very own dressing room.
Even so, her mother had shoved her toward Lady Olivia once again, saying she needed an outfit for her date with the grand duke… No, for their meal together.
And since this time she insisted they had to be careful, the choosing took even longer than usual. As a result, Eleonore had needed a long calf massage that night.
And so, the outfit the margravine had chosen with such care was the white blouse and sky-blue skirt Sophie was bringing over now.
The white blouse was an elegant one, covered in frills like the many others filling the dressing room.
They all looked the same to Eleonore, but her mother had insisted the ruffles were different and the ribbon was a different size, then forced it into her arms.
And the problem was the skirt she had to wear with it.
To be honest, skirts weren’t particularly uncomfortable anymore.
It felt a little awkward to say so herself. Ahem. Anyway, compared to trousers, skirts were very comfortable. Both Eleonore and Seo Juha thought so.
But this skirt was different. Its length was nothing like the ones she usually wore. Unlike her usual long skirts, this one fell lightly above her knees—it was the shortest skirt she’d ever worn.
Of course, by modern standards, it wasn’t all that short.
Eleonore held the skirt Sophie had brought against her waist and said,
“Sophie. Isn’t this too short?”
At her young lady’s words, Sophie replied with an incredulous look,
“Honestly, my lady, did you grow up in some backwater village or what? How is this too short? You said the same thing about the last dress, too!”
What? Oh, honestly! You’re the last people I want to hear that from! Want to try a miniskirt or a pair of dolphin shorts for a change?
Of course, she hadn’t even worn those herself.
Watching Sophie undo the button at the waistband and lift the skirt up to her hips, Eleonore swallowed the words she’d been about to say.