DTBTHS Chapter 10

In this world, spirits were beings born from specific spaces or natural objects.

It was plausible enough that a spirit would be born from the Phantom Library—the space that was her personal study.

'But then what exactly is this Phantom Library? Why can I enter and exit it?'

Questions she'd set aside because more pressing matters took priority, because she had no way to investigate them, surfaced anew.

As she tilted her head in puzzlement, Pie thrust the vials forward, clutching them in both hands.

"Here, here."

"You kept them well. Thank you."

Ariadne took them and stored them away.

'Right, the Phantom Library's true nature isn't what matters right now.'

She needed to make the deal as quickly as possible. She couldn't relax until the transaction was complete.

Contrary to her determination to negotiate quickly, Ariadne couldn't leave her bedroom for some time.

She'd been ill for so long, and her body had grown quite weak.

Meals were thin soup only. Movement was confined to inside the bedroom with its plush carpet.

Aside from Lucy, the maid assigned to care for her, and the physician, other visitors were almost entirely prohibited.

After nearly a week of convalescence, the attending physician finally permitted normal meals and light walks.

Thanks to this, Ariadne would share a meal with the Margrave for the first time.

Lucy dressed her in a small gown.

"It's been so long since a young miss has stayed at the castle—these are old dresses retrieved from storage."

Lucy watched her anxiously, looking terribly apologetic.

"I brought the nicest one I could find, but... I'm sorry. It's quite worn, isn't it?"

"No, it looks brand new."

She wasn't being polite. The dress was so well-maintained that she wouldn't have noticed if Lucy hadn't mentioned it first.

The lavender dress was warm yet lightweight. It fit perfectly, and she liked how it felt. The length—falling just below her knees—made it easy to move in too.

"Thank you for understanding, miss."

Lucy finished tying the ribbon at the waist and pulled a full-length mirror in front of her.

"How is it?"

Seeing her reflection, the dress was even prettier than she'd thought. It suited her well, too.

"I like it. I like this dress."

"Yes, it suits you beautifully."

Lucy smiled warmly at the young miss.

'Her color has improved already.'

Ariadne, who'd been looking in the mirror, suddenly tilted her head left, then right, then grasped the hem of her skirt with one hand and spun in a full circle.

Lucy took a deep breath at the sight.

'Adorable!'

If she weren't in front of the young miss, she would have stamped her feet squealing about how unbearably cute she was.

Ariadne was simply examining the dress. Because of a question that had suddenly occurred to her.

'The Margrave only has one son. If this is an old children's dress that was at Weaver Castle, then perhaps?'

She voiced the question aloud.

"Is this... did Mother—I mean, did my mother wear this when she was little?"

Lucy's eyes widened. She covered her mouth with one hand and exclaimed softly.

"Oh my, it must be! I was told it was a dress the Margrave's youngest daughter loved!"

"That lady was the current Margrave's youngest sister, so this must be your mother's dress. No wonder it suits you so well."

Lucy chattered excitedly.

Ariadne quietly stroked the lace hem.

'This really is something Mother wore when she was little...'

She felt a wistful longing and a strange tenderness.

Gloria had been the first mother she'd ever loved, across both her past and present lives.

A mother she'd finally obtained across two lifetimes, only to lose so quickly.

'...I miss you, Mother.'

She swallowed down the tears that threatened to surge up.

If she loved her mother, she had to survive even harder. Going to her mother's side too soon would make her sad.

"Your mother must be rejoicing in heaven right now."

Lucy, who'd finished tidying up, murmured.

"Hm?"

"This is presumptuous, but... if I were your mother, I would be happy."

Lucy smiled kindly and extended her hand to her. Ariadne took that hand and asked:

"What do you mean?"

"A daughter who loves the dress you cherished as a child—how lovely would that be? I'm sure she'd be glad that her daughter has come to the home where she spent her childhood."

Ariadne walked holding Lucy's hand while looking around.

The corridor with tapestries embroidered with white leopards and snowflakes.

Deep purple carpets. Silver candlesticks lined up in rows. Long glass windows.

'That's right. This is the home where Mother spent her childhood.'

It was obvious since this was her maternal family's estate, but she'd forgotten.

She tried to imagine her mother as a child.

A brown-haired girl in a lavender dress running through this castle's corridors.

'Mother said she was a tomboy when she was little.'

'Mother fell running in the corridor when she was little and got a scar. Here, see?'

'So be very careful, darling. If your pretty skin gets scarred, Mother will cry and cry.'

The things Mother had said while playfully pretending to cry.

'The home where Mother grew up—in winter, the view outside the windows turned white with snow. It looked like drawing paper, so I drew on those windows and got in so much trouble.'

The corridors where Mother had run. The windows where Mother had drawn.

Mother's home. Mother's hometown.

Suddenly, this unfamiliar place felt extraordinarily intimate.

Lucy watched as Ariadne surveyed her surroundings with moisture gathering in her eyes.

She smiled and slowed her pace. So the young miss could slowly come to know her mother's home.

The Margrave was waiting at the entrance to the great dining hall.

The Margrave's eyebrows twitched when he recognized the dress Ariadne wore.

The dress Gloria had particularly loved as a child.

"That dress..."

His throat tightened and he cleared it once. The words "it suits you well" caught in his constricted throat and wouldn't come out properly.

To hide the reddening of his eyes from being reminded of his youngest sister, the Margrave deliberately hardened his gaze and looked only forward.

'Come to think of it, she won't have many clothes to wear.'

He wanted to dress his only niece in precious, fine clothing.

'I'll need to hunt the fur for her coat and muffler myself. Good quality sable or snow fox would be best.'

"...I'll summon a seamstress soon to have new clothes made for you."

Ariadne deflated hearing the Margrave's stiff words as he frowned.

'He must not like me wearing Mother's clothes. Maybe because I don't resemble her at all.'

The sense of kinship that had welled up inside her shriveled instantly.

She'd braced herself for this, so she shouldn't be disappointed. She reaffirmed her resolution and stepped into the dining hall.

The great dining hall at Snowstorm Castle was vast.

Stained glass cast colorful shadows across the imposing marble table.

The Margrave's seat was at the head, with Ariadne's seat prepared at the opposite far end.

It was standard seating arrangement according to common etiquette between guest and host.

Given the table's size, the distance between the two seats stretched endlessly. If small Ariadne sat at that distance, the Margrave obviously wouldn't even see her face properly.

The Margrave immediately gestured with his chin.

"Move Ariadne's seat."

"Yes, my lord."

The butler changed the seating arrangement quickly, as though he'd anticipated this. Right next to the Margrave.

Ariadne grew slightly more dejected.

'Does this mean I'm an unwelcome guest, so he can't extend proper guest treatment?'

Completely unaware of her misunderstanding, the Margrave thought the child seated beside him held herself far too rigidly.

"Eat comfortably, Ariadne."

"Yes."

The Margrave told her to eat comfortably, but Ariadne couldn't relax.

She picked up her spoon, thoroughly tense. The spoon was rather large for her.

There were no children's utensils in the castle. For eating soup, a teaspoon could substitute, but for a formal meal it violated etiquette.

Ariadne looked at the spoon's size and used just the tip to scoop a tiny portion of the egg dish served as an appetizer.

Just enough for one bite. Leaving food on a spoon after lifting it violated table manners.

She nibbled at the substantial egg dish that way.

'I have to chew thoroughly.'

It had been a long time since she'd eaten solid food, and she was nervous—she feared getting indigestion.

The faint memory of vomiting on the Archmage's collar surfaced, forcing her to eat even more diligently, even more slowly.

'I can't get sick. Right after the meal, I have to bring up the elixir.'

She was deadly serious, but the people watching her were melting.

The sight of the tiny child chewing with such a grave expression was adorable.

Her hand gripping the spoon was exquisitely dainty, and the amount she ate in one bite was at sparrow-peck level.

Mid-meal, Ariadne sensed the flood of gazes and looked around.

Having servants lined up around the dining hall was the same as at Eldier.

What differed were their expressions and attitudes. Everyone here wore warm, kind faces.

'At least they won't snatch the spoon away while I'm eating here.'

That thought slightly blunted her sharp tension. For the first time, she properly tasted the food in her mouth.

'It's delicious.'

Perhaps because she'd only eaten soup for so long, even the simple egg dish tasted incredibly good.

She ate her fill, then raised her head.

The servant bringing the next course made eye contact with her, smiled, and set down the dish.

'This person smiles at me like Lucy does.'

She experimentally made eye contact with the servants around her, one by one.

Each person whose eyes met hers smiled warmly and bowed their head slightly.

'No one avoids my gaze. No one looks at me coldly or frowns.'

It was a trivial thing, yet it lifted her mood, warming her cheeks.

This place really was different.

Truly different from Eldier, where the Duke had left only surveillance-like figures near her.

Before recovering her past-life memories, Ariadne had tried desperately to be loved by her father—the only person who smiled at her—in an environment where no one smiled.

'He only smiled in the study, that bastard.'

After recalling her past life, she'd realized it had all been the Duke's manipulation to groom her, but even knowing that, her heart wavered sometimes.

Because her young body wouldn't obey her.

Because, that is to say, she was lonely.