BPOTWC Chapter 28

Back then, Maximilian had been so caught up in the strange sensation seeping through his winter glove that the fireworks filling the entire sky hadn't registered at all.

How had it come to this?

Only now did he look again, freshly, at his wife climbing into the carriage.

She looked exactly as she always did.

'She probably doesn't know. Too lost staring at the sky, that's all…'

Though—if she had known, she wouldn't have just let it go.

Their gloved hands had touched, and she was a woman who feared him. She would have startled and pulled her hand away at once.

He smiled bitterly and turned his gaze out the window.

The carriage had already set off, and the scenery outside was beginning, little by little, to change.

"And then?"

Inside the carriage, Clarisse was chattering away nonstop to the Duchess seated beside her.

Her tone had risen slightly, a clear sign of how excited she was.

"Noah and I are ribbon-friends now."

"So that's why only one ribbon is left?"

"Yes. We promised to wear matching ribbons the next time we meet. I want to see Noah again soon."

"How wonderful, truly. A friend your own age."

"Does the Duchess have a friend her own age too?"

"I… do."

"I'm sure your friend must be a beautiful noble lady. Have you ever invited her to Sheridan?"

"Ah… yes. But more to the point, Noah really does seem like a remarkably clever child."

"He is! Noah studies the fallen golem. I'm so proud that my friend is such a wonderful, accomplished person."

Clarisse swung her legs and grinned sidelong, and the Duchess laughed with her, gently brushing back a strand of hair stuck to the child's face.

Before he quite realized it, Maximilian had turned his gaze from the window and found himself watching the two of them, quietly.

It was nothing remarkable. Nothing worth remarking on at all.

An adult doting on a child. A child chattering away happily at that adult.

'It's just like… a family.'

He was thoroughly startled by the thought that had unexpectedly surfaced.

Family, indeed.

Where in this place could such a thing possibly exist?

The people gathered here were: a coward, who fled and left his brother to be a lonely king.

A victim, dragged down by that coward's ruin, married off to a man she didn't even love.

And a prisoner of war, with eighteen already fixed as his end.

In that pitilessly cruel list, there was no space anywhere for the soft word "family" to settle.

"I hope the day Noah comes soon comes quickly."

"Well then, shall we practice showing him around the manor once we're back at Sheridan, in preparation?"

"M-me?!"

"Yes, of course… ah, but the Duke would have to permit it first…"

Both their gazes turned toward Maximilian at once.

Maybe it was the same hope in both their faces—they looked almost alike, for a moment. Family, though. Neither of them. Not at all.

"……I permit it."

The moment he answered, Maximilian realized he was faintly smiling.

He quickly straightened his expression and turned back to look out the window.

The two of them, delighted, began at once to plan out the manor tour.

Without meaning to, Maximilian found himself listening in on their adorable little conversation.

The carriage carrying the three of them was entering the Sheridan estate.

Because they had stopped briefly to rest in town along the way, the adults arrived in a relatively unfatigued state.

But young Clarisse, it seemed, had grown rather tired.

She now lay with her head resting against Maximilian's lap.

He had carried her over himself and laid her down there, after she'd begun dozing off while still sitting upright.

"Doesn't your leg feel uncomfortable?"

Brielle felt guilty at having let someone so noble bear such an inconvenience.

"It's fine."

"We're back at the estate again."

"So we are."

Brielle stared fixedly at Maximilian's face.

She wanted to know, if only a little, whether he too was still bothered by the moment their hands had touched.

"You've worked hard."

But the instant those businesslike words reached her, something in her seemed to deflate all at once.

So it really had been nothing, after all.

'Well, of course. They did say he was quite the popular prince once.'

With a handsome face and a fine standing to match, he had surely had any number of proper romances with beautiful women before this.

To a man like that, a mere graze of gloved hands would be nothing at all.

'I was… the one it was a first for.'

Brielle grew inexplicably gloomy.

"Would you like to go?"

Just then, Maximilian made some sort of proposal.

The trouble was, Brielle hadn't heard a word of it.

"Y-yes?"

"If your travel fatigue hasn't cleared, it's fine. Even a brief walk through the town would require quite a bit of walking, after all."

Every New Year, Maximilian made a point of going out into Sheridan town himself to meet the people.

Until now, he had never once asked Brielle to come along.

'Could it be that he too…? No—as if someone like me!'

Brielle, her heart fluttering with unwarranted hope, hastily pressed the feeling back down.

"On reflection, I've asked something difficult of you."

At words that seemed to blame himself, Brielle quickly shook her head.

Now that she thought of it—did she really have any standing to hesitate over the Duke's invitation?

A true duchess would simply do this, without question.

"I'll go!"

Brielle answered promptly, in a loud voice.

He seemed, somehow, a little pleased—but that had to be nothing more than an illusion born of her own hopefulness.

There was no way a man that magnificent could possibly find any joy in the mere prospect of touring town alone with someone like her.

'But… me.'

An outing with him.

Brielle guarded carefully against her own rising spirits.

This wasn't a date. It was, strictly speaking, business—the work of a ducal couple, nothing more.

'……It must simply be that the Duke felt he had no choice but to invite me along.'

Brielle grew, without quite knowing why, a little downcast.

The carriage, having passed through the garden, came to a smooth stop before the front entrance.

The waiting line of servants bowed low in welcome of their return.

Clarisse, roused slightly from sleep, rubbed her eyes and stepped down from the carriage alongside Maximilian, with Brielle following behind.

'Just like a father and daughter.'

Of course, this was not something she could say aloud, so she only laughed quietly to herself.

"Anything unusual?"

Beside Maximilian as he asked the question, Clarisse hunched her shoulders, stifling a yawn.

It seemed Brielle was not the only one unable to tear her eyes away from the stark contrast between the gruff man and the adorable child—even the servants were glancing over, unable to help themselves.

"A rare thing……. Has the duchess been keeping company with someone?"

Once again, Brielle failed to hear what was being said.

'No wandering thoughts!'

She scolded herself severely and offered a careful apology.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear."

At that, the steward stepped forward and kindly repeated himself.

"A friend of yours has come and is waiting for you, my lady. She even brought a maid, and has been staying for several days now."

"……What?"

A friend?

All of Brielle's friends were from her days as a maid—and even those had long since lost all contact.

Could it possibly be one of Asella's friends?

"W-who… did she say she was?"

Brielle asked, her face plainly frightened, but the answer came instead from beyond the front door.

"It's been a while."

At the achingly familiar voice, Brielle hunched both shoulders and lifted her head.

A silver-haired woman in a dress was approaching.

"Ah, mi—"

Miss.

Out of long habit, Brielle nearly called her by the old title, but caught herself and fell silent just in time.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace."

Having drawn right up before them, Asella greeted the Duke with the graceful bearing of a swan.

"……Pleasure."

"I've been abroad this whole time, so I've only just now heard that Asella got married. Can you imagine."

She linked arms with Brielle and gently stroked the back of her joined hand — precisely as one might greet a dear old friend after a long absence.

"Honestly, you. Marrying such a splendid man, and you never wrote me a proper word about it."

"S-sorry… about that."

"No, no. A duchess's position must keep you quite busy, I imagine."

She turned back to face Maximilian, smiling with practiced charm.

"I was in such haste to get here that I've imposed myself on a house without its master. How embarrassing of me."

"Think nothing of it."

"How generous you are. Oh, that's right—I heard the Duke won great merit in Grezekaia. Truly remarkable."

"……Forgive me, but I believe I ought to go in first."

"Oh, of course. I've kept a man weary from a long journey standing here. How thoughtless of me. I'll greet you properly another time, Duke of Sheridan."

"That would be best. Hm……."

As he hesitated a moment, the woman smiled brightly and introduced herself.

"I'm Brielle Woods. Please, do call me Brielle."

At the sudden sound of her own name, Brielle was so startled she lost the ability to speak entirely.

Not that there was anything in particular she could have said, in a situation like this.

'What… what could you possibly be thinking, Miss!'

To send Brielle in her place because she hadn't wanted this marriage to Sheridan—and then to simply turn up like this, out of nowhere!

"I see. Then, if you'll excuse me."

Maximilian offered a courteous bow, every inch the gentleman.

Then, straightening himself, he turned toward her and spoke in a gentle tone.

"Welcome to Sheridan, Miss Brielle Woods."

In that instant, Brielle felt something jab sharply into a corner of her heart.

That her true name should come out of his mouth like that…

She had, of course, always meant to tell Maximilian her real name herself, someday.

But not like this.

And certainly not like this—hearing it, for the first time, used as someone else's name.

Brielle bit her lip for a moment and crushed the painful feeling down into a corner of her heart.

Whatever whim had brought the Miss here, she didn't want her disguise exposed just yet.

Brielle forced herself to smile.