BPOTWC Chapter 30

"Of course. Let's do it right now!"

That was, indeed, welcome news to hear—but it had come far too suddenly.

She'd always meant to do this eventually, but was it really wise to reveal the truth this abruptly, with no preparation of any kind?

"W-wait a moment, Miss. First……"

Brielle needed time to think everything through calmly.

Asella's marriage was a matter entangled with the royal family itself.

Which meant that acting on impulse, without any plan, could send everyone down the road to ruin.

But Asella gave her no room for further thought.

"You don't intend to keep deceiving the Duke forever, do you?"

"...... Ah."

That one line hit with tremendous force. In a single breath it overpowered every tangled thought crowding her mind—subdued them completely.

Asella was right. Whatever else happened, the deception had to stop.

"I'll write to Father. Telling him, whatever happens from here, to please keep paying for your mother's treatment. You know Father—he'd keel right over if I so much as asked."

As though she'd planned it all out in advance, Asella laid out her scheme smoothly.

Brielle had no choice now but to nod along.

"In exchange, I'd like you to speak well of me to the Duke."

"Speak… well of you?"

"Well, yes—if we simply blurted out that we'd swapped identities, wouldn't he feel insulted too?"

"That's……"

"How about this?"

Asella — who only moments ago had been nothing but tears — now had her eyes lit bright, and launched straight into her plan.

"We'll say that, at the time, I was gravely ill—practically on death's door."

"……What?"

"A weak earldom couldn't possibly speak a word against a marriage ordered by the King himself, so—we sent you, who resembled me, as a stand-in bride for the ceremony."

Hearing this plan laid out, something in Brielle's mood turned strange.

"Another… lie? We're telling another lie?"

Wasn't the entire point that she couldn't keep deceiving him forever? And now this only buried the old deception beneath a brand-new one.

Asella shrugged one shoulder.

"We can't very well tell him the plain truth, can we? That would burn you down along with your whole family. And then what happens next—you know, don't you?"

She didn't bother finishing the thought.

Probably meaning: and then your mother's treatment becomes impossible, too.

"That's… true, but."

"Besides, it's not even really a wrong thing to say, is it?"

She lifted her gaze and swept it slowly across Brielle's room once more.

"Becoming the Duchess was supposed to be mine from the start, after all."

"Let's put everything back where it should be. As soon as possible."

This, in fact, was exactly what Brielle had long wished for herself.

Throughout her whole uncomfortable time at Sheridan, she'd vaguely hoped that someday she might return home and care for her mother.

But until now, fear of the Earl's retaliation had kept her frozen, unable to do anything at all.

If I just have Miss's letter…… the Earl won't be able to threaten me anymore.

Not only would her false life at Sheridan come to an end—since Asella was genuinely of noble blood, she and the Duke would surely make a far more fitting match after all.

In every sense, everything would finally return to its proper place.

"Brielle."

Her silence had gone on a little too long; Asella called her name again.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you… perhaps want to stay here?"

That was, in effect, asking: do you want to keep lying to the Duke?

Brielle recoiled, horrified, shaking her head hard.

"Absolutely not!"

Asella smiled, delighted.

"Then you'll finally be able to live comfortably with your mother. Aren't you glad?"

"Yes……"

Strangely, she wasn't all that glad. Not really.

Clarisse returned to her room and spoke to the inner wall.

"Hello—was anything unusual at the manor while I was away?"

〈Aaagh—welcome home, might Clarisse hurry, if it please her! Save me, I do beg it, I do beg it so! Sweet potatoes, spreading something fierce, multiplying and multiplying all throughout the manor, if it should please you to know!!〉

"Sweet potato" was the inner wall's code word for calling for help, so Clarisse giggled.

"So it's my turn to be the hero again, is it?"

〈But of course, if it please you. Clarisse is Sheridan Manor's own Sweet-Potato Extermination Squad, make no mistake.〉

The inner wall talked a great deal, and it was just as generous with its praise—always leaving Clarisse's shoulders puffed proudly.

"What do I need to do?"

〈Do you know a guest has come to the manor?〉

Clarisse nodded—she'd already been marveling, having met someone with the exact same hair color as the Duchess.

〈That woman — a wretched, wicked creature, she is!〉

"Huh?"

〈Naught but spite, naught but malice, in that heart of hers!〉

"She didn't look like that at all. There's no way a friend of the Duchess would be someone like that."

〈That's exactly why every last one of us inner walls thought so too, at first—we welcomed the Duchess's guest most warmly indeed, if we might say so.〉

The inner wall, it seemed, had a great deal pent up to say.

Before Clarisse could even react, it kept right on pouring it all out.

〈She fooled the Duchess with her tears, and then—do you know what she said to her own maid, back in the guest room? Ahem. "Honestly, that fool falls for it every single time — just act the least bit kind to her and she's had. Oh-ho-ho-ho!"〉

The inner wall's impression was truly excellent.

〈Just so, just exactly so! And before the Duchess, such airs of goodness she puts on — the shift of it so shocking, the whole manor near shook itself to pieces, if it please you to credit it!〉

"But earlier… she definitely said they were close friends."

Recalling how friendly the two women had looked together at the entrance, Clarisse felt even angrier now.

"Saying such things about the Duchess—that's just awful!"

〈Exactly so!〉

"She's a very bad person."

〈Couldn't have said it better myself!〉

"Tricking the kind Duchess like that…… wait."

She stopped short, mid-fume — she hadn't actually heard the important part yet.

"But wait—how exactly did she trick her?"

〈That's……〉

"I need to know that, if I'm going to figure out how to help the Duchess."

〈Th-that is true, if it please you, but — oh, this is such a tremendous secret, might I say……〉

"What is it?"

The wall, still mumbling and hemming, finally gave in and told Clarisse everything said in the Duchess's room.

Whatever had made Asella suddenly change her mind, the longer Brielle turned it over, the more right her words felt.

'Not that I ever wanted to stay here forever, anyway.'

The Earl had promised: if Brielle bore a child, he would adopt it as a Darlington daughter.

When he'd said it, he'd acted as though bestowing some enormous favor—but Brielle had never once wished to become part of the Darlington family.

'Most of all — Miss said she'd see to it Mother's treatment goes on.'

On top of that, she would no longer have to lie to Maximilian anymore—that, too, felt like a relief.

It was easy enough to predict he would be deeply furious once he learned the truth.

'His reaction… will likely be a little different from what Miss expects, I think.'

Meaning: that once he knew the truth, Brielle could go live comfortably with her mother.

'The just Duke will surely punish me too — I came to Sheridan a stand-in bride, and never once confessed it.'

A spell in prison, most likely, awaits her.

Her only hope: since it was done for her mistress's sake, it likely wouldn't come to the executioner's block.

Of course, Brielle didn't think this outcome unjust or excessive.

If anything — that might set her heart a little more at ease, she thought.

And once I've paid the price in full……

From then on, she really could return home and live peacefully with her mother.

It's for the best.

Even reaching that conclusion, some part of her heart remained uneasy—surely, she thought, because she'd dared to harbor improper feelings toward the noble Duke.

'No delusions…… none of that, Brielle Woods.'

Whatever small kindness the Duke had shown her, it had only ever been because he believed she was the Earl's daughter and true wife, "Asella Sheridan."

He had certainly never regarded the maid's daughter, Brielle Woods, as anyone special.

Let's tell the Duke the truth as soon as possible. I can't keep being "Brielle" forever, can I.

Recalling Asella's final parting words, Brielle lifted her head.

Yes, let's do that.

Confessing everything as soon as possible, paying the price as soon as possible—that would bring the day of returning to her mother that much closer, too.

She rose and put on a thick fur coat.

They'd agreed to go into town together shortly—a good opportunity.

Just the two of us…… it'll be so much easier to talk.

Brielle's plan to confess everything on the way to the village collapsed entirely.

Somehow, right at that moment, Clarisse had come to her asking to go on a "village exploration."

The child's face, hands clasped together in a timid little plea, looked as if the fear of what if I'm refused had been spelled out on it in plain letters.

Brielle couldn't pretend not to notice such earnestness.

Clarisse was already a child who watched constantly for adults' moods and reactions.

Brielle asked Maximilian whether Clarisse might come along, and fortunately, he raised no particular objection.

The three of them went down into the village together.

Passing through the residential quarter, they arrived at a small commercial district, where goods—fruit, local specialties—were being unloaded, one after another, from carts that had arrived from outlying regions.

Maximilian, together with the merchants, checked over the list and condition of the goods.

Clarisse, every so often, pointed at some unfamiliar item and asked what it was, and Maximilian, without the slightest trace of impatience, resolved the child's curiosity each and every time.

Brielle felt, once again, keenly, what a genuinely gentle man he truly was.

One might expect him to grow annoyed at a child's endless questions, and yet his expression never once changed as he kept on explaining.

"Ma'am, look over there."

This time, it was Clarisse pulling hard at Brielle's hand once more.