TMIAP Chapter 4

The route from the train station plaza to her lodgings was short but bustling enough to please the eye. Dinner at the lodgings she returned to was also satisfying.

Monica fell asleep mulling over the young man called Luis, but by the next morning had forgotten him entirely. Because of the interview, of course.

Mistress Oraingne told her the family where Monica would work was named Mollette. The Mollette estate was in one corner of the district of great mansions Luis had pointed out, requiring quite a walk up from the beach.

The beating sun made her taffeta dress feel stifling. She truly hadn't known the beach sunlight could be so fierce. If only she'd purchased a hat!

But the only hat Monica owned was a fur cap for winter wear, and even that was quite worn. Monica resolved to buy a splendid hat with her first wages.

Of course, after seeing the noblewomen walking the beach with beautiful parasols, she also thought, 'Wouldn't a delicate parasol covered in torchon lace be nice?'

Then, after her thoughts reached the small wooden peg protruding from the opening of her old handbag, she decided she needed a bag too. In any case, there were so many things she wanted to buy.

The Madame Mollette she met at the great estate she'd puffed her way up to was a wonderful person.

The kind-looking face, gentle smile, and elegantly coiled brown hair were impressive, but more so the fact that she served iced tea to someone who was merely going to be a governess.

"It's hot, isn't it? Come in quickly."

"Heavens..."

Seeing the transparent ice in the crimson tea, Monica didn't know what to do with herself.

Ice, in this weather.

'I heard even His Majesty the King in the capital treasures ice greatly.'

To give ice even to a commoner girl come for a governess interview—what a generous-hearted mistress.

Of course, the Mollette family's wealth must have played a part. The Mollette estate was one of the largest in the district of great mansions Monica had climbed to.

Madame Mollette seemed quite accustomed to people showing Monica's reaction, her lips curved in a smile as she lifted her teacup first.

Only then did Monica hastily lift her own cup. Belatedly, she worried she'd been too frivolous, but the moment cold ice touched her lips, such thoughts melted like snow.

"How cool..."

"I was astonished too when I came to La Spezia. Ice in midsummer."

Madame Mollette set down her teacup and smiled.

As Monica quenched her thirst, the mistress explained how devoted the people of La Spezia were to developing warehouses that could keep air cold even in summer.

"They use alcohol?"

"Oh my. How did you figure that out so quickly?"

The mistress covered her mouth and widened her eyes.

"My husband explains it endlessly and I still don't understand."

"It's thanks to your kind explanation, ma'am."

"Heavens, how sweet. But thanks to this, I can entrust Martinael to you with confidence."

Martinael was the name of the Mollette family's second son and late-born child whom Monica would care for.

When speaking Martinael's name, Madame Mollette's gentle dark eyes held an especially warm light. One could see how much she loved her son.

"He came to me at the hardest time. People think I worry because Martinael has a weak constitution and feel sorry for me, but they're mistaken. Caring for darling Martinael made me forget any troubles of the heart immediately."

She was a very optimistic mistress.

"How old is he?"

"Ten years old. Forgive me, but what should I call you? Oh..."

Monica quickly preempted before this kind mistress could address her by that dreadful surname.

"Please call me Monica."

"How kind. How old are you, Monica? I did hear from Mistress Oraingne, but my memory hasn't been good lately."

Madame Mollette gladly called Monica by her name and smiled. Monica smiled brightly and answered.

"Ah, I'm twenty-two."

"Oh my, the same age as our daughter."

Madame Mollette's daughter was still unmarried, she said.

Considering that noble ladies typically married around twenty, this was surprising. But Madame Mollette shook her head.

"The prolonged war caused it. I'm glad—how wonderful to spend more delightful time with my daughter? But our girl is so good-natured..."

The mistress began expounding on her lovely daughter Liella. She was angelic and always diligent, and people liked Liella, she said.

Thanks to this, before the ice in Monica's cup had fully melted, Monica learned that Miss Liella Mollette was quite skilled with her hands, had thick eyelashes that made her look like a doll when she blinked, and possessed a very elegant bearing.

"Why, she says she doesn't want to marry at all and wants to live with me forever. She has rather childish aspects for her age."

Monica smiled back.

"I understand. If I had a mother like you, I'd want to be with her forever too."

"Oh my, could it be..."

Madame Mollette covered her mouth in surprise. Monica blinked quickly.

"I have no parents."

"I'm sorry."

"Not at all. I'm used to it now."

Apparently Mistress Oraingne hadn't mentioned that Monica was an orphan.

Monica liked Mistress Oraingne a bit more. No, not only Mistress Oraingne.

Monica glanced around the room where she sat. The interior walls papered with blue silk, the beautiful portraits and ornaments placed upon them. The antique wine-red bookcase and chairs with vine patterns carved in intaglio. Even at a glance, it was a truly splendid estate.

And that wasn't all. Monica also liked the kind mistress sitting before her. Monica became terribly envious of Miss Mollette, whose face she hadn't even seen yet.

That young lady with whom she shared nothing in common except age.

How lovely it must be! To live in such an estate with such a mother.

Drinking tea with ice as if it were nothing, spending time reading expensive books—that young lady surely wouldn't particularly want to marry. Marriage would mean leaving this estate and her mother.

Then Madame Mollette suddenly took Monica's hand. Monica's eyes widened in surprise. The mistress softened her eyebrows and whispered affectionately.

"I like you, Monica. You seem very intelligent and a wonderful young lady. I feel certain you'll care well for Martinael."

"You flatter me too much."

"If it's all right, while you're in this estate, you may think of me as a mother. If there's any problem, be sure to tell me. Will you?"

Monica was overjoyed.

The words about thinking of her as a mother were surely just courtesy, but Madame Mollette's words meant Monica could live as a servant in this beautiful great estate.

"I'd like to introduce you to Martinael first, but right now he's taking his afternoon nap."

"I see. Proper naps are essential for growing children."

"Oh my, people from the capital are generally negative about naps."

"Southern people always take naps during the summer afternoons when the sun is too fierce."

Madame Mollette added something and stood. Monica also rose reflexively. Madame Mollette gestured to a maid.

"Go and show her to the room next to Martinael's. And Monica, this is Maria. If you give Maria your lodging address, she'll move your belongings from there."

"Thank you."

"Oh yes, the wages..."

Monica tensed her shoulders. Madame Mollette saw this and smiled.

"I'll give you 500 shing per week."

She'd tried not to be surprised, but it was utterly impossible.

'500 shing a month would be more than enough!'

They said it was a wealthy family—apparently they spent lavishly too.

Seeing Monica's green eyes grow as large as lanterns, Madame Mollette winked one eye.

"Young ladies your age have many expenses. You're the same age as our daughter—I can't help but be mindful of it."

"Thank you, ma'am. Truly, thank you."

"I'm the one who should ask your favor. For our Martinael too."

Five hundred shing per week. In a year, that would exceed ten thousand shing. Even the capital's best governesses wouldn't receive such wages.

Monica struggled mightily to calm her shoulders, trembling with joy. Perhaps it was her imagination, but even the maid called Maria seemed to look at her with envious eyes.

'With my first week's wages, I'll have summer clothes made first! Oh, and a hat.'

Following Madame Mollette out of the room, her swelling heart beat wildly. How much would it cost to have one summer dress made?

'Should I put embroidery only on the bodice? No, if I tie a blue ribbon at the waist, it won't cost much...'

Beautiful floral or striped patterns would be difficult, but an undyed ivory or solid-colored linen dress wouldn't cost a fortune.

The current fashion was to have dress hems barely touch the floor, but that wore out the lace instantly, so only very wealthy young ladies could wear such things.

Though it would be an ordinary dress ending at the ankles, Monica was confident she could order a very pretty dress indeed!

"Monica, then I'll introduce you to Martinael at dinner."

"Would that be all right?"

Her head was entirely full of thoughts about new clothes. But that didn't mean she forgot her duty as an employee.

At the mention of being invited to dinner, Monica clasped her hands together with both embarrassment and gratitude. Noble families' dinners were customarily held with family or very close friends.

"Of course. My precious Martinael..."

It was then.

"Madame!"

A young boy's chattering voice, and a title in contrast to it, rang out.

At the same time, an entirely different tranquility from moments before flooded across Madame Mollette's face.

Before even turning around, Monica realized it was Martinael.

"Martinael! You're awake. And Liella too?"

It seemed both of Madame Mollette's children had come together.

"How perfect, Martinael. This is..."

Hearing Madame Mollette begin to introduce her, Monica turned, bent her knees and head slightly, and curtsied.

She didn't forget to hold her dress and lift it slightly. It was southern-style courtesy she'd practiced all last night. Madame Mollette continued in a satisfied voice.

"Miss Monica, who will care for you."

"How do you..."

Monica, who'd finished her greeting and raised her head, flinched. Before her stood a young boy with brown hair and sparkling black eyes. The very image of Madame Mollette, at that.

But the boy wasn't what surprised Monica.

The beautiful maiden standing behind the boy. No one could doubt that maiden was Miss Liella Mollette.

Her hair was brown like the mistress's, but her eyes were gray. Her plump cheeks, as if holding candy, exuded refinement.

She was a young lady who looked lovely in the currently fashionable pink-striped dress, and

"...do."

She was a face Monica knew.

'You're smart and pretty. I get scolded by the director every day... I'll never have a chance. Because I'm a stupid, useless brat! But you'll have other good opportunities!'

Lizzie.

Lizzie Orphen.

The girl she couldn't forget even in dreams, who'd once shared Monica's surname, was there.