NOMAMWTM Chapter 15
I thought for a long while about how I should greet you first.
I imagine you already know, but I am Adeline Cardium, Michael's mother and the mistress of the previous generation's ducal estate. I was bedridden until recently, so I'm ashamed to say I wasn't aware an honored guest had arrived.
Since my greeting comes late, and since you are someone for whom I'm so very grateful, I originally wanted to meet you in person to offer them, but my son was very much opposed, so I've come to offer an inadequate greeting through this letter instead. I have no excuse.
You must have been quite startled since arriving here—have you adapted well to the estate? I imagine you're different from ordinary people, but even so, the estate being what it is, I ask. I hope you've been well.
Nameless angel, thank you for saving me.
I've been suffering from this illness for ten years now.
The cause was unknown, medicine didn't work, and I was gradually resigning myself to life, thinking it was an illness this estate had given me, but after you extended your hand, I realized I had actually been longing for life.
Thank you so much for showing me a miracle and hope. I want to repay you somehow, but I'm ashamed that I have nothing I can give you.
...(omitted)...
...Michael seems to have some strange misunderstanding, and I hope my son is behaving well without committing any mistakes toward the honored one.
If by any chance that child said something disrespectful, I'm mortified, but please consider that his shoulders bearing responsibility for everyone in the estate are far too heavy, and I hope you'll forgive him with a merciful heart.
He's a smart child, so if you wait just a little, he'll soon conduct himself well.
It seems inappropriate to take up too much of your time with a first greeting, so I'll stop here.
I hope I can offer formal greetings in the near future.
I would be grateful if you could send a reply when convenient.
—Hoping the darkness of this estate doesn't settle upon the honored one, Adeline Cardium
The rain that had been falling steadily for over a week stopped.
The sky that had been gray throughout cleared brightly, and warm sunlight illuminated the room.
Humans were simpler creatures than one might think—when what they saw was clear, their mood naturally improved—but today's Charlotte couldn't manage that.
"...Haah."
She let out a deep sigh, her body buried in the sofa.
Her head was complicated.
She'd been like this ever since reading the letter from her mother-in-law a few days ago.
The letter delivered so suddenly, in elegant and refined language. It had been a truly strange letter.
Charlotte unfolded the letter she'd mulled over a hundred times over the past few days and sighed once more.
So, Michael had some kind of misunderstanding about her.
There were many small surprises or oddities in the letter—the fact that the woman had been very favorable toward her, that she knew Charlotte had saved her, that she'd described her like some kind of angel, that from the tone of the letter the relationship between Michael and the woman didn't seem quite as terrible as she'd thought, and yet she still spoke of this estate, probably the clumps, as if they were something terribly strange—but what mattered was that.
The letter said Michael had some misunderstanding about her, whatever it was, and that because of it he was treating her badly. The woman was reproaching him for it.
At first she'd thought it was nonsense.
Charlotte had never done anything to cause a misunderstanding in the first place, and Michael hadn't mistreated her at all—he'd only been good to her.
But after thinking about it for a long while, something clicked.
Of course he'd been very good to her, and he'd absolutely never mistreated her as the letter described... but he had definitely shown a strangely stiff attitude these past few days.
She'd simply thought he was in a bad mood from hearing harsh words when he went to see the woman, but had he actually been dissatisfied with her?
Still, Charlotte had thought it was no big deal, up to that point.
If there was a misunderstanding, they could clear it up.
She didn't think he'd misunderstood her greatly, and since asking Michael would solve the problem, she'd thought simply that she'd tell him about the strange letter contents while she was at it.
Yes, when he came back.
"...Haah."
Charlotte let out yet another sigh—she'd lost count of how many by now.
She truly hadn't imagined she wouldn't even see Michael from that day on.
So, he hadn't returned to the room that night.
The next day came and went, and the day after that too, and still he didn't appear.
She'd searched here and there throughout the estate but couldn't find him, and seeing how he didn't come to the room even late at night, it seemed he wasn't sleeping in the room at all. Maybe he'd gone out.
When she'd waited and tried asking the servants yesterday if they knew anything, as if they'd all been given the day off, they were nowhere to be seen all day when she needed them.
Only this morning had she finally found a maid on the first floor—who bowed apologetically even though she'd done nothing wrong—and managed to learn that urgent business had taken him away for a few days. If there was any fortune in the misfortune, at least he hadn't left the estate.
When you're left alone for a long time, thoughts multiply.
At first she'd waited without much thought, but as time passed, a strange anxiety grew abundantly.
She rose from the sofa and flopped onto the bed. Thump.
"He didn't leave because of me, did he?"
Stroking Nero as he wriggled up onto her stomach, Charlotte murmured.
She wanted to think that couldn't be it, that Michael was a duke after all so busy matters must have come up, but on the other hand, she thought maybe.
It rarely happened in the first place, but whenever he left for a while, he'd always told her.
It wasn't just stepping away briefly but not returning for days, and he hadn't told her in advance, and of course the estate was very large so it was possible, but not sleeping in the bedroom together, and then disappearing like this when he'd seemed in a bad mood...
"No, but what did I actually do?"
Charlotte sat bolt upright. Nero jumped in surprise. Bounce.
She felt wronged.
In her anxiety she'd reviewed all her actions from about ten days ago, before Michael's expression had started to sour, but she hadn't done a single thing that would make him misunderstand or upset him.
If there was anything that pricked her conscience even slightly, it was touching the artifact the day she'd gone to the gallery, but it didn't seem like she'd been caught, and even if she had, it wasn't such an upsetting matter.
Besides, Michael had already seemed in a bad mood even before that!
Charlotte clutched her throbbing head.
She wanted to get along well with Michael. No, to be honest, she wanted to get along as well as a proper married couple.
Michael was handsome, and he was the husband who'd appeared to her like fate.
She'd definitely thought they were slowly growing closer.
In reality, up to the middle he'd clearly shown interest in her, been just as embarrassed as she was, but when exactly had things gone wrong?
Charlotte suddenly missed her first friend whose face she didn't know, who used to give her solutions through the water whenever she had problems as a child.
When she'd been confined, she'd been with Maria, and Maria and she had spent six years practically like sisters, so aside from fighting with her mother, Charlotte hadn't had such a headache in a very long time.
"Ugh..."
"Squeak."
What on earth was the problem? Charlotte writhed on the bed in frustration, letting out a silent wail, not even hearing Nero's strange noise as he was crushed beneath her.
"...Charlotte?"
"......"
Then, a voice she shouldn't be hearing sounded.
She froze in her position, rolling around on the bed.
When she creakily lifted just her head to peek up, Michael was looking at her—when had he returned?
"Mi, Michael."
Charlotte sat up abruptly to greet him.
Heat rushed to her face in embarrassment.
Had he seen her making a fuss? He couldn't have, right?
No, that wasn't what mattered.
"Michael, do you happen to—"
Are you angry with me? Charlotte was about to ask immediately.
"Charlotte."
But she failed. Servants had entered behind Michael.
"...?"
Aside from the maid who'd brought the woman's letter, every servant feared them both, so it was an extremely unfamiliar sight to see him appear with servants.
"Charlotte, I'm extremely busy so..."
Michael paused mid-sentence, looking at her.
The gaze that swept past briefly seemed to be reading her mood.
But whatever the intention behind that action, all Charlotte's eyes could take in was that today too, Michael's face was stiff.
"I'll likely be away a bit longer, and these are people who will attend to you in the meantime."
She was about to let it pass in one ear and out the other when she paused.
Attend to her?
The servants here trembled just from seeing them. Would that even work?
Charlotte looked at the servants who'd entered with Michael—one manservant and one maid—and paused.
She didn't know the manservant, but the maid was that maid. The one who'd brought her the problematic letter.
She'd seemed not to fear her, and even now stood quietly without trembling.
The manservant beside her seemed to tremble slightly, but compared to the others in this estate, he didn't seem very afraid either.
She was a bit surprised, but to Charlotte right now, whether Michael had misunderstood her was more important than that.
"Michael!"
She grabbed hold of Michael, who really must be busy because he was about to sweep right back out having just arrived.
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