BPOTWC Chapter 18

The girl, her eyes bright again, turned toward the two adults staring blankly at her and gave them a radiant smile.

"Adults who like each other write love letters to one another. Uncle Quentin told me so!"

Clarisse glanced sidelong at the inner wall and gave it a light wink.

She couldn't hear it, of course, but she was certain that every stone making up the inner wall was crying out in joy right about now.

Because this was the moment their old, worn prayer finally came true.

Clarisse ate her dessert down to the very last bite before heading back to her room first.

Given that a storm of a conversation had just swept across the table, the Duchess worried the atmosphere might turn awkward once the girl had gone.

That is to say—perhaps they might grow embarrassed over the confessions they'd just exchanged, or something along those lines.

"Thank you for joining me for dinner tonight."

But it seemed her worry had been unfounded.

The Duke treated her with the same bluntness as always.

'Me, too…… such a fool.'

They had only told each other they liked one another for Clarisse's sake.

Because there was simply no telling a child so pure-hearted about something so sordid as a marriage of convenience.

"It's nothing."

Brielle forced a smile.

"I know Your Grace had your reasons for bringing Clarisse into this household. I'd like to cooperate as much as I can."

"I appreciate you saying so."

"Then, might I excuse myself first? There's something I need to attend to."

In truth, there was nothing at all.

But she couldn't very well say, "Being alone with you makes me uncomfortable somehow, so I'd like to leave quickly."

"Something to attend to…….."

Instead of giving his consent, he simply murmured back the words she had said.

Had he perhaps noticed there was some other meaning behind them?

Brielle grew needlessly anxious.

"Y-yes. There are just a few things I need to see to."

Without waiting for permission, she rose awkwardly from her seat.

"Col—...... are you leaving?"

But he asked, in a voice that had turned somehow rather cold.

"A love letter."

A love letter—all of a sudden?

Brielle couldn't understand what he meant by such a thing, and could only gaze at him blankly.

'Is he asking me to write him a love letter, the one Clarisse mentioned?'

The thought crossed her mind—but no, there was no way. She shut it down.

Maximilian Sheridan was, quite simply, a prince.

Only a truly fine lady would ever be worthy to write a love letter to such a splendid man.

He spoke again.

"That night… the letter you were about to send. That one."

"What?"

"……Never mind."

His gaze, which had been fixed on her with an almost relentless intensity, slowly slid downward at an angle.

Soon, confused words spilled from his lips.

"Forgive me. I……. Why……."

Brielle didn't know what to say to him, so different from his usual self, and could only part her lips without a sound.

'Does he think… that I sent a love letter to someone else, and came back that night?'

The night Brielle had climbed back over the garden wall, that was.

"I made a mistake."

Maximilian rose from his seat and bowed his head in apology.

"It wasn't my intention to pry into your private affairs. I sincerely apologize."

"N-no… it's fine."

When Brielle managed to answer, he straightened himself and offered his arm.

"Allow me to escort you to your room."

"No, that's all right."

Brielle took a step back, declining his courtesy.

There was no reason to accept his help while still inside the estate itself, and besides, something about being with him right now felt somehow uncomfortable.

"It would be best if Your Grace returned first. I'll sit here a while longer before I go."

Thankfully, he didn't insist on staying by her side, which would have put her in a difficult position.

Brielle was grateful for that, and yet, at the same time, felt something like…

Disappointment.

"Then allow me to take my leave."

Maximilian left the dining room with the same upright bearing he'd had when he first entered.

Only once he had fully disappeared from sight did Brielle sink deep into her chair.

"What… on earth was that, just now?"

She turned over in her mind the unfamiliar side of Maximilian she'd just witnessed.

It seemed almost as though he found it unpleasant, the idea of her sending a love letter to someone else…….

'Ah, of course he'd find it unpleasant… If someone else found out, it would tarnish the ducal house's honor.'

If that was the reason, then it made sense that Maximilian's expression had grown so stiff and awkward.

"Should I tell him?"

That it hadn't been a love letter at all.

'But then I'd have no choice but to explain what letter it actually was.'

And to do that, she would first have to confess that she wasn't really "Asella" at all, but a mere servant girl named Brielle.

If they'd had a child together, perhaps it would be different, but in their current situation, where the marriage could be annulled at any time, making such a confession was far too dangerous.

Of course, this wasn't out of concern for herself.

The only person she was worried about was one person alone.

Her mother.

She was terrified of failing to protect her poor, aching mother, barely getting by on what treatment she had now thanks to the Count's household's help.

If not for her mother, Brielle would never have survived to this day.

'Mo—ther…….'

Brielle mouthed the beloved name silently and quietly rose from her seat.

Now she could return to her room without running into Maximilian.

As she left the dining hall, Brielle turned to glance back at the table one last time.

'……It really was fun, though.'

She'd been flustered by Clarisse's outlandish remarks, but even so, it had somehow felt genuinely nice.

'What a truly… lovely child.'

Brielle recalled the adorable honey-colored eyes that had gazed up at her so carefully, and only now, finally, allowed herself a smile.

For some reason, Clarisse felt so good she couldn't stop hopping, first one foot, then the other.

'His Grace and Her Ladyship now know they like each other!'

She felt tremendously proud of herself for having accomplished such an important task.

The girl turned to Sir Benson, who was escorting her back to her room, and gave him a bright smile.

"Ah, today was such a happy day."

"I can't believe it."

"Sir?"

"Tricked. By a prisoner……!"

Clarisse startled and stopped dead in her tracks.

It seemed Benson wasn't at all pleased that Clarisse, a mere prisoner, had gone and hatched a plan of her own without permission.

'Wh-what should I do?'

If His Grace found out that she'd overstepped her place like this, when she'd promised to live quietly at the castle…….

"I—I'm sorry……! I'll behave from now on."

Clarisse clasped her hands together and looked up at Benson with pleading eyes.

"I won't do anything bad, either."

"……?"

Benson blinked down at the girl.

Clarisse made her amber eyes shine as brightly as she could, silently begging him not to tell His Grace about this, please.

"Hm!"

Clearing his throat, Benson crossed his arms and answered in a solemn voice.

"Well. Given that you've been granted the honor of dining with His Grace, it's only natural you'd renew your resolve to that degree."

"Yes, that's right. His Grace's kindness has grown even larger. Like a snowball!"

"True enough. Forget a debt like that, and you're not even human."

Benson urged Clarisse along, hurrying her back toward her room.

'Is he… forgiving me for being so presumptuous?'

Clarisse resolved not to forget Benson's kindness either, and came to a stop in front of her door.

Just as she was about to follow Rosalie, who had been waiting for her outside the door, into her room—

"…You."

Benson suddenly called her back.

"Yes, Sir Benson!"

"Well done, Clarisse."

"……Wh-what?!"

Startled by this sudden praise, Clarisse's face flushed as she asked again, but he only scratched the back of his head and muttered to himself.

"Forget a debt like that, and you're not even human…….."

What kindness was he suddenly talking about?

Clarisse wanted to ask him.

But he ruffled her hair thoroughly with his large hand, said, "Much obliged. Get to bed," and walked off.

Watching his retreating back, Clarisse pondered the meaning behind his warm words.

'Could it be that Sir Benson also knows about His Grace and Her Ladyship's feelings for each other?'

That might be why he'd praised her efforts just now.

'If that's true, then… I was able to help Sir Benson too!'

Clarisse was so happy she wanted to hop up and down right there on the spot.

But greeting Sir Benson properly came first. She had to mind her manners, after all.

"G-good night to you too, Sir Benson!"

Without turning around, he raised one hand in a wave in place of a farewell. He seemed, somehow, to be in a good mood.

'What do I do, I'm so happy. Could it be… that the inner walls are pleased too, just like Sir Benson?'

Clarisse wanted to press her hand against the wall right away, but she couldn't, not just now.

Rosalie was already waiting with her bath prepared.

'They must be so happy that this long-standing problem has finally been solved. What do I do if the inner walls praise me too, just like Sir Benson did—I'll be so embarrassed…….'

Clarisse imagined it as she sank happily into the warm water.

The cheerful voice of the inner wall, crying out, "Ah, just as we always knew—our Clarisse is one to be relied upon!"

A helpless smile slipped out despite herself.

Having left the dining hall, Brielle returned to her room, taking care not to run into anyone along the way.

Fortunately, she encountered no one at all except the newly assigned maid.

Brielle quickly sent the maid away, telling her she could manage on her own.

She was worried the maid might strike up friendly conversation, asking something like, "Did you enjoy your dinner, Your Ladyship?"

If she were asked such a question right now, Brielle wasn't sure what she'd say, and it would only leave her flustered.

She went to stand before the mirror, reached her arms back, and removed her necklace. After that, she deftly untied the laces at the back of her dress by herself.

Having grown skilled at dressing and undressing on her own since her days as a maid, she had no particular trouble with it.

After hanging the dress she'd removed loosely over the sofa, Brielle sat down in her lighter clothes before the vanity mirror.

"……Huh?"

Something sat there that hadn't been there before. Brielle stared down at it, puzzled.

A white envelope.