BPOTWC Chapter 36

It felt unnatural, somehow. Almost more natural, in fact, to assume Clarisse had known everything all along.

And that was not the only instance.

Had it not also been thanks to Clarisse that Maximilian had come to realize the strange feeling he harbored for Brielle in the first place?

He narrowed his eyes to thin slits and stared fixedly at Clarisse.

Perhaps sensing his gaze, Clarisse lifted the branch higher still, as if showing it off.

"Your Grace! It's long! It's very, very long!"

At that innocent sight, Maximilian set aside every thought he'd had until a moment ago, tucking it into some corner of his mind for later.

He reached out and stroked the child's pink hair as she came trotting up before him.

It happened, somehow, quite naturally.

"……?!"

The child looked up at him, startled, but soon flushed bright red and gave a shy, pleased smile.

'……Cute.'

The thought occurred to him before he even realized it.

That Clarisse had found the old gardener's cherished thimble had been at the inner wall's request.

〈Such a vexing matter it is, if I might say so—that Sir Outer Wall cannot even find a thimble fallen right before his very face, and does nothing, nothing at all, but sigh.〉

Fortunately, Clarisse had solved the problem beautifully with her offer to learn snow-sweeping.

And that was not the only problem she had solved.

"Throwing out a recipe like that! Why not rip your own head off and pitch that out too, while you're at it?!"

Yelling at the kitchen maid, the Sheridan cook felt as though the world had gone black before his eyes.

"I—I'm s-sorry……"

"Sorry? That paper had been carefully kept, ever since my great-grandfather's time—the man who once served as head cook to the royal palace, no less!"

"I—I thought it was just a p-pile of scrap paper you meant to throw away……"

Even at the maid's tearful excuse, he didn't so much as blink, thrusting a finger toward the kitchen door.

"Out of my kitchen. Now."

"Head Cook……!"

"You're not to set foot in here again until you find it…… Clarisse?"

Into the fierce atmosphere of the kitchen stepped a girl, her pink hair prettily tied up in two braids.

The child walked straight up to the cook and held out a bundle of paper she'd been carrying.

"I was going to fold some paper toys, and I noticed there was a recipe written on this. Sir Benson said I should bring it to you, so I did."

"Wait…… this is!"

It was the great-grandfather's cooking notes the cook had so cherished.

"Wh-where did you find this?"

Not long before, he had searched even the carpeted floors of the manor and found nothing, and had truly given up hope.

"Um, I'm not really sure either. But I'm happy I found your treasure."

Clarisse gave another polite bow and turned to leave, then, as if remembering something, spun back around.

"The stew you made today was really delicious. You barely slept and kept going back and forth between your room and the kitchen—that must have been so hard."

"Eh? However did you know that……."

The cook stared at Clarisse in astonishment. He had never imagined such a small child would notice that kind of effort.

"I suppose it tasted even better for all the care that went into it. Thank you, always."

Clarisse gave another small bow and hurried up the stairs.

"Well, I never."

The cook stood there, flustered, watching her retreating figure, then abruptly turned to face the kitchen maid, still bowing her head.

"No time for that now. I need to go ask the mistress whether we can change tonight's dinner menu."

"What? Starting from now?"

"Yes—we ought to make something even more delicious, if we're going to bother!"

"……For that prisoner, you mean?"

The kitchen maid raised a fair point, but the cook only scowled deeply and replied.

"That's right! For the grateful prisoner who brought back the recipe book you stupidly threw out! Got a problem with that?"

The maid quickly shook her head.

"I'll go check what we have in the storeroom!"

"Yeah, go on! Hop to i!"

The head cook had, it seemed, entirely forgotten his fury from a moment before, and had already begun to chuckle with satisfaction.

Maximilian and Brielle, each carrying their own purposes, made plans to travel to the capital.

First, Brielle was to be reunited with her mother after a long time apart.

Maximilian intended to meet with his brother Lysander, inform him that the matter of the "false bride" had been resolved, and discuss what was to be done about the Count Darlington household.

Announcing this itinerary, the Duke added, as if reading from a formal notice: 'Clarisse and Mallangie will accompany us to the capital.

There was a clear purpose behind bringing the child to the capital.

For securing the items needed for a child's mental and physical development, no place could compare to the capital.

Take, for instance, "dolls"—items said to help a child's emotional development. Sheridan's general store carried only five kinds of dolls. But he had heard the capital had dozens of varieties, enough to overflow its shops several times over.

Maximilian intended, in service of his goal to raise Clarisse healthily to the age of eighteen, to take this opportunity to secure the very best selection of children's goods available.

But here, one problem arose.

Objection letters began arriving from every corner of the manor.

For instance, the gardener's letter read as follows.

「If Clarisse is gone, who, I ask you, is to run about playing in the Sheridan manor garden? A garden with not a soul running through it—imagine! To labor in so bleak and desolate a place would be far too painful to endure.」

It had been barely two months since Clarisse had started running about the Sheridan manor.

And yet to claim it would be painful, desolate without her, to that degree?

He thought it was plainly absurd—but he answered with a courteous solution all the same.

「I shall instruct the knights to take turns running about the garden once a day.」

The gardener did not send a reply back.

Then, this time, a petition arrived from the kitchen.

「We have already drawn up a full month's nutritional meal plan to support Clarisse's future growth—if you take her to the capital now, the entire plan will fall apart!」

This was a somewhat more tempting matter, and so Maximilian attempted a compromise.

「Hand over that excellent meal plan, and I shall pass it along to the capital's cook for reference.」

Through this arduous process, Clarisse at last set off from Sheridan together with the ducal couple.

Toward Sapheris's royal capital, Highdon.

The royal capital of Highdon was a city ringed by three layered walls, and the areas one could enter were restricted according to rank or occupation.

The largest, outermost wall stood open to subjects of the kingdom, or to foreigners bearing entry permits.

The second wall could be passed by those of noble rank and above, along with their attendants.

Finally, the interior of the third wall was permitted only to members of the royal family, their attendants, and certain high-ranking nobles.

Given this structure, the phrase "to cross a wall" in the royal capital of Highdon carried the weight of describing a truly great success.

By that measure, Clarisse had achieved nothing short of a "tremendous success." For she had managed to cross the third wall on her very first day in Highdon.

That she, a prisoner, had been able to pass this formidable wall in a single stroke was owed entirely to Maximilian's personal guarantee.

The Duke's party was granted the use of a small annex palace, not far from the entrance to the third wall.

A few of the knights muttered their complaints in private—"To give His Grace such a shabby little annex, His Majesty really is too much"—but Clarisse felt quite differently.

The white walls, the pretty sky-blue roof and window frames, made the little palace charming enough to have stepped straight out of a storybook.

Led inside by Maximilian, the first thing that caught her eye was a wall decorated with wood and wallpaper.

'...Looks soft.'

Had she gotten that used to Sheridan's stone walls already?

The wood walls—she hadn't seen any in so long—felt strangely fun.

'I want to go explore the house with Mallangie, right away.'

The thought that there might be some stone here, too, willing to talk with her, made her heart race.

"Clarisse."

The Duke led her to the children's room on the second floor and gave her a word of caution.

"Yes?"

"Part of the interior is still being cleaned, so it would be best to put off any exploring until tomorrow."

"That's a bit of a shame."

Clarisse let her shoulders droop, but glancing out through the clear window, she quickly came up with a new plan.

"Then would it be all right if I explored as far as that fountain over there?"

"Hm?"

Maximilian followed the direction of her pointing finger.

"That falls within the annex garden grounds, so it shouldn't be any trouble at all. As long as you don't leave the garden, you're free to explore it as you like."

"Really?!"

"Yes. I hope you find something new to discover here as well."

"I'm sure I will, because I'm going to search every single corner!"

"Good—I'll let the knights know. I'm afraid I'll need to step out for a while myself."

"Where are you going?"

"I intend to pay my respects to His Majesty."

"Ah…….."

Clarisse recalled the beautiful King of Sapheris she had once met at the execution ground.

'Don't forget, brother. The day that child turns eighteen, you're to bring me her head yourself—you're not to forget that.'

He had worn a pure white smile as he'd said it.

Somehow, it had felt frightening……

'It seemed…… he hadn't much liked the idea of me turning eighteen at all…….'

And he was the highest person in this entire land—with a single word, he could end Clarisse's precious life whenever he pleased.

'I don't want that. I'm scared.'

Clarisse clasped her trembling fingertips together and looked up at the Duke.

"Your Grace…… might it be all right, if you told His Majesty that I'm going to become a wonderful eighteen-year-old."