COARV Chapter 31

"Is the bathroom far? I can walk on my own."

"Not far, but the floor is filthy. You might hurt your feet."

Her words weren't a joke. The hall we'd first entered had been the cleanest space. The deeper we went into the corridors, the worse the chaos became—unidentifiable mold everywhere. What were those fungal growths? The Grand Ducal House of Berke, second in power only to the imperial family. Who would believe that the family's ancestral manor had fallen into such ruin?

If the bathroom was like this too, I really wouldn't want to bathe. Fortunately, the bathroom was clean. Masha filled the empty tub with hot water she'd boiled in advance, and I started with lukewarm water before gradually submerging myself in the warmth.

And I realized, somewhat to my surprise, that my body hadn't frozen as badly as I'd thought. While I'd been half-unconscious on the horse, Lesche had held me truly secure. His body heat had transferred to me considerably because of it.

My mood turned strange somehow.

After fully immersing myself in the warm water, I told Masha what had happened.

"Goodness. What a story."

"Yes."

"Actually, when I first saw you with His Grace, do you know what I thought?"

"What?"

Masha said she'd thought Lesche had kidnapped me and was hiding me here. I asked seriously.

"He's not the type to do that, is he?"

"His Grace is more emotional than people think."

Masha said it with a smile.

Emotional.

Well, she wasn't wrong. If I hadn't read the original work, I never would have agreed with that assessment. Lesche, who seemed perpetually cold and indifferent, somehow weary of life's vicissitudes, had charged forward without looking back once he recognized his feelings for the female lead.

Right. It was more accurate to say he moved according to instinct. In the original, there'd been nothing besides Lina capable of short-circuiting his reason. He was absolutely not a man emotionally desiccated. The description "emotional" suited him almost disturbingly well.

"Now, lean your head back for me."

I tilted my head back as Masha instructed. She wet my hair with warm water and worked up a lather to wash it. The soap seemed homemade, the bubbles carrying the scent of mugwort.

My scalp had been frozen from the cold as well, apparently. After raising my body temperature with warm water several times, my entire body grew drowsy. I blinked slowly and looked around the bathroom. Now that I noticed properly, the bathroom was remarkably simple. Even the bathroom in the annex where I stayed was several times more luxurious than this.

As if reading my thoughts, Masha spoke.

"This is the bathroom we use. All the other bathrooms are unusable."

"Are there other people here?"

"Three more besides me. We have a gardener, and ah, a chambermaid. When the luggage carriage arrives, she'll dry your clothes."

"...?"

I felt puzzled. I'd initially thought the manor was this filthy because they were short-handed. For some unknown reason, I'd assumed Lesche had decided to close this manor and left only Masha to maintain it. Naturally, I'd thought the place was a wreck because cleaning was difficult with so few people, but...

"For having a gardener, the garden outside is quite a horror, isn't it? If we'd received notice you were coming, we would've pulled all the weeds the day before at least..."

In this winter?

"It's fine."

"You're a kind person."

Masha smiled.

"Just a moment, miss."

She left me alone in the bathroom briefly, then returned before long. In her hands was a pair of slippers.

"We just made new slippers. They should fit you well enough."

After finishing the bath, Masha wrapped my hair in a towel and pressed it dry, then her eyes widened.

"Oh my. Is this the Stern mark? I've only heard about it..."

"Ah, yes. That's right."

"Goodness. A red mark shaped like a star—how extraordinary."

The star-shaped red mark at the center of the back of my neck. This was divine proof that absolutely no one else possessed, and anyone who tried to fake it could be dragged away for blasphemy. Come to think of it, hadn't there been an episode in the original where Lina went to a ball with her hair up and crushed the nobles who'd looked down on her?

Seria could do it if she wanted, but she deliberately never wore her hair up to reveal the mark and prove she was a Stern. The reason was easy enough to guess. When Seria raised her eyebrows and glared at someone as if ready to kill them, most problems resolved themselves.

What a convenient face to have...

Masha applied fragrant oil to my hair, then combed through it with a fine-toothed comb.

"Now, miss. Could you extend your feet?"

I obediently extended my feet. Masha gently took my foot and slipped on the slipper. I blinked. I hadn't noticed earlier because of the foam and sponge, but Masha—this woman had a great many calluses on her hands.

Was she a knight? Bibi's hands were like this too.

I couldn't be certain, but she seemed like someone who'd gripped something heavy and hard like a sword for a long time. Yet the smile she wore was so warm that the disconnect was striking in its own way.

She must have done hard labor.

Come to think of it, there don't seem to be other servants in this Laurel Manor either. Does she sweep and clean this vast estate alone? Why does Lesche neglect this manor? Did something bad happen here?

If that were the case, Lesche didn't seem to have a poor relationship with Masha. So why did he leave her to suffer in this vast manor?

These were matters not mentioned in the original, so speculation had its limits. I pressed the towel Masha handed me against my face and looked around the bathroom once more. Even in this rarely clean bathroom, black mold was beginning to bloom bit by bit in the corners.

The chief aide of Berke, Linon, was trembling. He didn't particularly enjoy coming to Laurel Manor, truth be told.

There were several reasons, but the biggest was that Laurel Manor was filthy. No matter how beautiful and ancient the estate, Linon could never like a mansion occupied by those black shadows like mold.

"This green estate is unchanged."

At Linon's lament-tinged words, the middle-aged man handing him a dry towel smiled.

"It's always been this way. Ever since 'that day.'"

Linon's face soured.

"Ben, aren't you uncomfortable living here?"

"What's there to be uncomfortable about? I've been staying here for over ten years now."

The middle-aged man called Ben wore the black suit that butlers of the Gleick Empire typically wore, neatly tailored. In his breast pocket hung a butler's monocle worn with use, precisely positioned.

Linon said in a disgruntled voice.

"Everyone finds it strange that the butler of the Grand Ducal House of Berke never shows his face at the main castle. Talk to His Grace and just come to the main castle."

"The main castle doesn't get many guests anyway, does it?"

"That's true. If not for Lady Seria's wedding ceremony this time... Ah, right. You asked earlier who Lady Seria was, Butler Ben."

Being so cold that he'd been trembling made him forget what he'd meant to say. Linon was particularly vulnerable to cold. He pressed the dry towel Ben had brought against his face, then warmed the towel by the fireplace as he briefly and clearly explained what had happened.

"Who could have known? That the Grand Duke of Berke would marry in such a fashion—and not just any man, the Grand Duke himself. At least it was a Stern wedding ceremony, so that was fortunate. If such chaos had happened during an ordinary lady's wedding, it would have been a dishonor to His Grace as well."

"His Grace wouldn't have bothered saving a woman who wasn't a Stern anyway."

"Mm, that's true."

In fact, it was embarrassing to even call it a wedding, and the imperial social circles would be buzzing about this absurd ceremony for years. Perhaps even after the current social circle's main participants had all retired honorably, they'd tell the next generation, 'In our time, there was this unbelievable story...' This was gossip that might be passed down through the ages.

It was a story rivaling an imperial scandal, after all.

In any case, Lesche had made Seria his Grand Duchess and brought her all the way to this Laurel Manor. Since this was their master's will, no one disobeyed.

"...So that's how it happened. At the main castle, we mostly call her 'Lady Seria.' Or sometimes Lady Stern... Since official approval from the imperial family hasn't come down yet and the wedding circumstances were special, the forms of address are mixed."

"The imperial family always acknowledges the Grand Duke's marriage late. It's tradition, so there's no problem. Then we'll call her Lady Seria as well."

Ben was a gentle-natured butler, matching his gentle impression. He shook out the towel Linon wasn't brushing properly and asked as if suddenly remembering.

"But Linon?"

"Yes?"

"Seria Stern, you said... I remember. Isn't she the cruel and arrogant Stern you disparaged two years ago?"

"..."

Linon's mouth closed. He whipped around, struck by the ominous feeling that Seria might be glaring at him with narrowed eyes. Of course, no one was there. Right, she'd still be bathing. Still...

"That... was already two years ago. She's changed a lot since then..."

Linon whispered quickly.

"Please absolutely don't let slip what I said about her back then. We're on very good terms now, so I need to stay in her good graces."

"Of course. But what changed so much that your attitude has transformed like this?"