TMIAP Chapter 19

The party was, by any measure, a splendid affair. Around the Mollette family's three members and the family of the countess whose birthday was being celebrated, the gardeners' lovingly arranged fresh flower decorations bloomed in profusion.

Monica stood in one corner of the ballroom, expending considerable effort not to gawk. Small wonder—she had never seen such a lavish party before.

'No, I've never been to any party, come to that.'

"Lord Mollette is—"

"Occupied with affairs of state in the capital. He sends his regrets that he cannot attend today's celebration..."

People conversed in clusters or danced. Beautiful figures moved through the ballroom, bright as midday, adorning every corner.

Several noble youths approached Monica, who was new to them. Each time, she explained that she was not nobility but Martinael's governess.

The young men smiled politely and offered courteous greetings, but they turned away quickly enough.

Ironically, this deflated Monica's spirits. Though Madame Mollette had given permission, it became abundantly clear that this was not truly her place.

So when Martinael suggested they step out, Monica was pathetically grateful.

"I think Miss Violet went to the fountain, Miss Monica."

The girls fresh from their debutante presentation seemed to have gathered amongst themselves to admire the Mollette estate's beautiful fountain.

"Are you certain you needn't stay with your family?"

"It's fine. Besides, there's someone annoying here."

Martinael whispered to Monica. Someone annoying? When Monica glanced toward the family, Martinael made an exasperated sound and tugged her arm, taking the lead.

Monica followed the rapidly walking boy. The fountain area blazed with so many bright candles that it dazzled the eyes.

The girls stood before the fountain, sharing small cakes and chattering happily. Martinael whispered to Monica.

"That young lady there is Miss Violet."

Monica had expected someone sedate from the name Violet, but the girl Martinael indicated had ginger-colored hair plaited down her back and a cheerful countenance.

Just then, Miss Violet turned and their eyes met. She nodded in greeting and quickly approached. Monica felt Martinael tense.

"Good evening, Martinael. And this is..."

"Ah, this is my governess."

Monica nearly laughed at Martinael's suddenly dignified manner of explaining her.

Resolutely summoning memories of battlefield horrors to steady herself, Monica greeted Violet politely. Fortunately, the girl's personality matched her lively impression.

"Martinael, does that fountain not operate?"

"Oh, it can be activated. But I believe Madame intentionally left it off for the party."

Martinael smiled as he said this.

"After all, it would be a tragedy if the fountain's noise prevented me from properly hearing Miss Violet's beautiful voice."

Monica immediately recognized this as Martinael's carefully hoarded trump card. Unfortunately, Miss Violet looked rather puzzled. Naturally enough—Martinael was only ten years old, after all.

"Forgive me, but is it traditional in the Mollette family to address one's mother that way?"

"Pardon?"

"Madame..."

If Madame Mollette had been present at this moment, she would have expressed profound gratitude to Miss Violet. For months, she had begged him to stop saying 'Madame,' to no avail.

However, the instant Violet mentioned 'Madame,' Martinael brazenly pretended he had never said any such thing.

"You must have misheard."

"Pardon?"

"Ah, our family's traditional pride, the fireworks display, will begin soon..."

Martinael swiftly changed subjects. The attempt succeeded brilliantly. Violet clapped her hands with an exclamation and began chattering enthusiastically about the fireworks. Martinael cleared his throat with an ahem and launched into detailed explanation.

"Our family originally dealt in gunpowder in a neutral country. My father also..."

Martinael's explanation sounded less like something the boy had devised himself and more like something some family elder had drilled into him once—no, many times.

That family elder apparently possessed abundant consideration for children, for the explanation came remarkably simple and concise. Thanks to this, Monica learned that the Mollette family had grown tremendously wealthy in this generation through dealing in military supplies.

The knowledge chilled her stomach. In short, they had profited enormously from the war.

The already wealthy Mollette family had grown wealthier still through cannons and gunpowder. Martinael even boasted that the kingdom had started the war trusting in the Mollette family's newly developed gunpowder's firepower.

But the kingdom had lost the war.

Monica's head went cold as well. She knew someone who had lost an eye to that gunpowder. The smell of powder seemed suddenly to linger at her nostrils. Nausea rose.

"Ah, Miss Monica. You may go."

Just then, the preening Martinael instructed Monica with affected adult authority. Imitating the adults around him, the boy's manner came across as excessively arrogant.

Ordinarily, she would have laughed. Or she would have said, 'What do you mean, Young Master? Madame asked me to watch over you.'

But Monica genuinely felt unwell. Hesitating, she bowed her head.

"I'll just get a drink of water, Young Master."

"I said you may go..."

Martinael muttered with displeasure. Monica left hastily. Even in her hurry, she didn't forget to ask a familiar maid standing near the fountain to look after Martinael. The maid nodded and told her to go ahead.

She crossed the garden in a daze. Wanting to reach somewhere without people, she avoided the bright areas and sought the dark places.

Normally she would have avoided darkness, but tonight the estate teemed with such crowds that nothing terrible could happen.

"Hah."

She walked for some time before arriving at the wildflower garden, visible from her room.

Unlike the rose garden, the wildflower garden behind the estate lay quiet and dark. Monica sank onto a bench in one corner, catching her breath. She wanted to escape that party, if only for a moment.

"Hah."

Monica laughed softly. She hadn't realized the Mollette family was that sort of household. She bit her lip. She had thought them merely a family that prospered through trade.

But she felt no urge to condemn the Mollettes as immoral. It was only that hearing Martinael's words had brought certain experiences flooding back.

The hospital at Arvidd had been inside a fortress, so they experienced almost no combat. But there was nothing to be done about the bombs carried by the aircraft deployed in the war's final stages. The kingdom's defeat had also been due to aircraft.

Monica recalled the last time she left the hospital. Earth erupting boom, boom on all sides, and the flying shrapnel...

Her feelings tangled. Monica looked up at the Mollette estate at an angle. Previously she had merely envied and marveled at it, but somehow the magnificent mansion now seemed hateful. That the mistress of a family that produced such gunpowder always wore a smile...

'Does Liella...'

The thought came suddenly. Was Liella proud of such a family?

Monica shook her head, alone.

The war was already over. No matter how much the kingdom had trusted the Mollette gunpowder, it was the king who started the war. The Mollette family hadn't started it, had they? Besides, a degree of self-loathing tormented Monica as well.

'It's as though I want to hate Liella and am searching for excuses.'

She remembered the inferiority she had felt toward Liella yesterday. Her own wretchedness in comparing and resenting even Liella's small comforts. Monica scrubbed her face roughly. She muttered.

"Just stop."

No matter what she did, the same emotions kept circling back. In a way, it was inevitable. Everything Liella possessed was something Monica herself might have had.

But right now, Liella stood in that ballroom while Monica crouched in a garden corner.

'I'm the problem.'

Monica felt she might not know what would become of her, crushed by inferiority. The unpleasant, stifling feeling was like standing endlessly under the summer sun. This would continue even if Liella left the estate.

She had overheard at the party. The man from the 'Solivén' family with whom Liella had marriage discussions was coming today.

Solivén. She'd heard the name frequently—supposedly one of the kingdom's most distinguished families.

That family's eldest son had died in the recent war, but they had commanded the kingdom's military for generations.

And the man Liella would marry was that family's second son.

Son of a distinguished family and heir to the house. Liella would likely leave to become mistress of that great house.

Monica could see it clearly. After Liella left, she would envy that perfect husband. She would hear occasional news of Liella and beat her breast, thinking that could have been mine. The children Liella would bear, the jewels Liella would wear, everything Liella would possess...

Monica had no desire to devour herself that way. That much was certain.

'I should resign.'

This was truly an excellent position. Over 20,000 shing annual salary, and a beautiful, prosperous city. A kind mistress and a boy who pretended to be grown-up but was fundamentally good.

Everything was perfect, yet nevertheless Monica decided.

To resign.

Constantly thinking wicked thoughts—it wasn't like her, who had stayed cheerful even on the battlefield.

What would her former colleagues say if they saw her now? The thought was actually liberating. It's all right. I'm still young. I'll find another position.

"Whew."

Monica exhaled softly and stood up, brushing off her skirt.

'First, finish today's work.'

Monica had left Martinael at the fountain with the young ladies. Even though she'd entrusted him to a maid, Monica's actual duty was his care.

Finish my work, then resign. Repeating this to herself, she left the garden.

Or tried to.

"I know you find this unwelcome, my lord."

Monica's eyes widened mid-step. Someone was nearby.

And that someone was a person Monica knew.

"But at least I have you in my heart."

Oh no. Monica barely suppressed a groan, ducking her head sharply. Damnation. The curse she'd only used on the battlefield nearly escaped. Of all the timing.

It was Liella.