BPOTWC Chapter 15

Not only the other prisoners, but even Benson, who made his rounds each day with the same indifferent expression, turned to her in surprise.

"……Madam Betsy."

Fortunately, Sir Benson treated her in a manner plainly different from how he treated the other prisoners.

It was thanks to the not-unfavorable reputation Betsy had built up among the knights until now.

Though it was thanks to some smart-mouthed little brat that she'd ended up like this, the connections she'd built up over three years in that mansion still counted for something now.

"I have something to say."

"This is difficult, Madam Betsy."

He tried not to properly hear her out. Likely out of fairness to the other prisoners.

"Well, then." Benson strode quickly past her.

"Sir! Just a moment! Please!"

She rattled the bars so hard they clanked loudly.

"Stay still, you!"

A guard, at the end of his patience, barked out at her—but Betsy ignored him and shouted on toward Benson.

"Everyone's being deceived by the Duchess—that woman! Won't you save the Duke?!"

Benson, who had walked several steps away, stopped dead in his tracks.

When he turned back, his face was full of doubt.

He was a man of such deep loyalty to the Duke that he could not simply let such words pass by.

"……What do you mean by that?"

A smile of grim satisfaction crept over Betsy's face.

The incident of the guardian bell ringing was wrapped up simply as "nothing worth mentioning." (Quentin was delighted.)

Had Clarisse, the central figure of the whole affair, known all these circumstances, she would surely have felt quite sorry about it—but that night she had fallen into such a deep sleep that she never heard that gallant tolling of the bell at all.

And so, knowing nothing of any of it, Clarisse was spending her fulfilling days in the cell just as she always did.

Waking up early.

Washing herself well.

Reading.

Exploring the garden.

Beyond these, she had also been adding one new activity after another, and lately her favorite of all was drawing.

Clarisse had taken to drawing right away, and the reason was as follows.

"Ta-da, look at this."

Clarisse had pinned up a drawing of some woman-person on the seat across the dining table from her, and proudly broke the news to Rosalie.

"This is my dinner friend, Jenny!"

A day later, Clarisse pinned a drawing of some man-person up next to Jenny, and boasted to Rosalie all over again.

"This is my dinner friend, John. The two of them are a matched pair."

"Ah……."

Rosalie, fighting to keep her heart from cracking open where it showed, smiled with her usual gentle warmth.

"They suit each other so well, they could pass for husband and wife."

"Right? They're just like the Duke and Duchess. Those two, you know……"

Clarisse, launching happily into talk about the Duke and Duchess, quickly clamped her mouth shut.

For the fact that Clarisse had once met the Duchess in person was meant to be a secret.

'Ugh, I really do let things slip so easily.'

Somewhat embarrassed, Clarisse gave an awkward little laugh and hurried to offer her thanks.

Clarisse promptly took her seat before the meal that had been prepared for her.

"Thank you for the meal again today. Thank you for preparing it, Rosalie."

"It's only natural, dear."

"Thank you, Jenny and John, for accepting my invitation too. Please enjoy your meal."

Clarisse offered a polite greeting to her drawings as well, then began to eat.

Rosalie stood beside Clarisse and watched the whole scene unfold.

She'd heard the child was raised in a royal household, and indeed her table manners were exceptional.

So much so that one had to wonder just how strict an upbringing a young child must have received to become this accomplished.

"It's delicious again today. Would you tell the chef it was truly, truly delicious?"

"I'll be sure to pass that along."

Rosalie smiled and poured more water into the girl's glass.

"Jenny likes meat too, so how fortunate. Ah, this is just a game, you know."

Perhaps sensing that Rosalie was watching her with concern, Clarisse flashed a bright, healthy smile from behind the table.

"It's a little more fun to imagine that Jenny and John are eating along with me during meals, isn't it?"

"I see."

After this same pattern repeated for several days, Rosalie decided that she absolutely could not allow Clarisse to keep eating alone.

This was, without a doubt, loneliness showing itself.

But the child, prisoner though she might be, had once been a princess of her country.

If she were asked to share meals with the household staff, it might well wound her young heart.

There was only one solution.

With a face set in firm resolve, Rosalie went to call on the Duke's study.

"You're saying Clarisse needs someone to eat with?"

Maximilian, looking up from the documents he'd been studying, asked in return, and Rosalie nodded carefully.

"Yes. Please look at this, Your Grace."

Rosalie set a practical reference book she had brought along on his desk and pointed a fingertip to a particular passage.

「Children come to learn proper manners and speech naturally by dining alongside their elders. In this way, one may expect a right and upstanding character to take shape.」

"Your Grace knows well enough that a child needs good examples before her to grow up properly."

"That's true enough."

Maximilian's voice grew somewhat heavy, as though he'd begun to feel troubled by the matter.

Sensing this, Rosalie decided to press a little further.

"What's more, lately she's taken to pasting up drawings of a man and a woman and calling them her dinner companions."

Maximilian's hand, which had been fidgeting with his papers, paused for a moment.

"Drawings……as friends."

At the note of something like pained regret in his voice, Rosalie let herself hope he might solve the problem of Clarisse's lonely meals.

"Um……"

But his deliberating only dragged on longer, with no real answer coming back. What on earth could he be so torn up about deciding?

While Rosalie waited anxiously, Quentin, who had been listening to the whole exchange, suddenly raised his hand and cut in between them.

"I could go and eat with her, I think that'd work fine."

Rosalie and Maximilian both turned to look at him at once.

He had been sorting through old documents piled up in one corner of the study, placing them one by one into a box.

He was moving files no longer in use down to storage.

"It'd be better than Clarisse eating with a total stranger, anyway. What do you think, Your Grace?"

"That would be good."

At Maximilian's approval, Rosalie nodded happily as well.

"A meal with such a fine gentleman as yourself, Sir Quentin, would surely make for a wonderful time for Clarisse. If it's no trouble, might you tell us in advance which lady you'll be bringing along?"

At Rosalie's sudden question, Quentin's eyes went wide with shock.

"Huh? A—a lady?"

"Yes, since you're His Grace's right hand, surely you must have formed a bond with some fine lady."

Quentin could give no answer at all to Rosalie, who watched him with such expectant eyes.

For he had never once formed any particular relationship with any lady whatsoever.

Quentin, looking as though he might burst into tears at any moment, mumbled and stammered before at last managing to squeeze out a single question.

"D—does there absolutely have to be a lady present at the meal?"

"Well, that's true enough, but Clarisse has drawn and hung up both a man and a woman, so it would be lovely if you could bring a lady along, if at all possible. Surely you're not entirely without any lady acquaintances?"

"……."

Quentin lowered his head.

"I've been preparing for the kingdom's civil-service examination at the monastery."

The civil-service examination was a formal test administered by the kingdom.

Those who scored well on this examination were given the opportunity to work for the royal family or noble households.

Through this test, not only sharp-minded commoners but even nobles of uncertain standing from the countryside could make a name for themselves and improve their station.

"I've heard there are many excellent young ladies at the monastery devoted to their studies."

"Yes, there were a great many. Except……"

Quentin's face crumpled into a pitiful, about-to-cry look.

"Everyone at the monastery does nothing but study. I did nothing but study, too. No time at all to make friends."

Maximilian raised an objection.

"I've heard there are many cases of people meeting someone there and marrying."

"T-that can't possibly be true! It's a truly sacred place devoted entirely to study!"

Maximilian and Rosalie regarded him with peculiar looks as he offered this excuse, his face flushed bright red.

"Ugh, and on top of that, I show up here at the crack of dawn and don't leave till late at night, so there's barely any chance to meet anyone besides Your Grace! Ah—Your Grace, please."

Quentin, eyes brimming with tears, pleaded earnestly with Maximilian.

"Please, take me to a ball in the capital! At this rate I'll die of overwork without ever once having a romance!"

"Aren't there plenty of women right here in Sheridan?"

"Have you forgotten I'm from here myself? Every young lady in our village used to go out collecting frozen horse dung right alongside me!"

"Doesn't that mean the two of you are on good terms? I've heard some bonds formed in childhood run deep."

"Hold hands with the girl I once raced to find the biggest horse turd in the snow? When I saw that very turd sitting in her own two hands—with my own two eyes?"

"……No doubt it was in your hands as well."

Maximilian glanced down with something like pity at the documents Quentin was holding.

"In any case, I understand well enough that you have no lady you could bring along, Sir Quentin."

Rosalie calmly brought the matter to a close. Quentin, apparently lacking even the strength to answer, gave a slow nod and returned once more to sorting through the old documents.

"In that case, might I suggest Your Grace do it yourself? Though I'm sorry to be so bold as to propose such a thing."

At Rosalie's suggestion, Maximilian answered as though the idea were entirely out of the question.

"Out of the question. More than that, I myself have no one to go with……"

Maximilian failed to finish his sentence. It was likely because he had only just belatedly realized the awkward fact that he was, in fact, a married man with a wife.

Rosalie answered promptly.

"I'm sure the Duchess would make a wonderful example."

"Even without me……"

"Isn't Sir Quentin far too busy to go seeking anyone else out from here on? And surely we can't simply let Clarisse have contact with outsiders without careful thought."

"That is true...enough. Should harm come to Clarisse, and something befall her, the law could not be upheld."

"Then, I'll let the kitchen and Clarisse know that Your Grace and the Duchess will be joining her for dinner tomorrow evening."

Rosalie, so as to prevent Maximilian from raising any further objections, quickly reached her conclusion, bowed her head, and left the study.

Maximilian, left rather at a loss, noticed that Benson, standing by the doorway, had been watching him with unusually careful attention.