Adelaide had given Amy a thorough scolding for calling herself sharp when that was hardly sharp at all, but the curse, being a separate entity from Adelaide, had apparently taken pity on Amy’s suffering and given her a bonus by way of consolation.
“Wretched curse…”
“A curse?”
“Lionel. You have bad ears. When someone says something, assume first that you must have misheard and doubt yourself.”
“Ah, yes. That’s right. I do have bad ears. I must have misheard, my lady.”
Lionel cut the fresh hot meat with practiced ease. Duke Berthier was beginning to have his doubts about the son of his savior. He was fairly certain Lionel had been clumsy with both fork and knife when Adelaide was watching.
“So then? There must have been an important reason you brought something up during a meal, like a farmer plowing a field. Naturally.”
“Ah, yes. I happened to have a brief chat with Count Armetia the other day, and he mentioned that his daughter had recently returned from a convent.”
“A convent?”
Adelaide frowned at the word.
In the empire, a convent was not simply a place for the devout to go and pray. It was closer to a place for quietly isolating a family’s troublesome member when casting them out was too much to bear.
“Armetia didn’t send her.”
Duke Berthier, knowing this, quickly moved to correct Adelaide’s assumption. The first button had to be fastened right.
He chose his words with more deliberation than he brought to any council meeting.
“I looked into it carefully. It seems the young lady herself pleaded to be sent to the convent, and Count Armetia had no choice but to send her, with tears in his eyes.”
“Your Grace.”
Adelaide took a sip of dry white wine. Duke Berthier waited anxiously for his daughter’s next words.
“You’re remarkably suspicious. Investigating Count Armetia’s background after nothing more than a brief chat. That’s practically a condition at this point.”
“Adelaide Charlotte Berthier!”
“Oh, goodness. Shouting during a meal on top of everything. Benjamin, are we really sure we don’t need to start preventive treatment for dementia?”
“His Grace is in good health, my lady.”
“Physically, perhaps. I mean up here.”
Adelaide tapped her temple with her index finger.
Duke Berthier desperately imagined a forest and birdsong. Only after telling himself that Adelaide’s voice was the small, pretty chirping of a bird, the sound of the wind, did Duke Berthier’s blood pressure settle somewhat.
“My lady, I haven’t used a single wrong fork.”
Lionel recited each fork he had used, in order. Adelaide bit down on her lower lip and patted him on the head.
“Viscount Lavota, please don’t feel a sense of achievement over something so trivial. We may not be of the same rank, but as a nobleman with a certificate, I find it deeply embarrassing on your behalf.”
“Please call me Lionel, my lady. I will always be Lionel to you.”
Duke Berthier had managed to replace Adelaide’s voice with birdsong and the wind, but he failed to do the same with Lionel’s.
“That’s right, Adelaide. Lionel has not yet been confirmed before His Majesty, so he is not yet Viscount Lavota. And according to Benjamin, he’s been struggling with his lessons.”
Lionel trailed off with a “Well…” and avoided Adelaide’s gaze.
He was torn between wanting to remain clumsy and fumbling in front of Adelaide forever, and the self-reproach of failing to properly carry out the tasks given to him.
“I hear you’ve been struggling particularly with dancing, Lionel.”
“I’ve never danced before, Your Grace.”
“You haven’t until now, but there will be many occasions calling for it going forward, so you’ll need to learn diligently, Lionel.”
“I think the trouble is that I don’t have a partner to practice with.”
“Then I’ll arrange for a maid to,”
“I would be grateful if my lady would help me…”
Adelaide said nothing. Duke Berthier quietly breathed a sigh of relief inside. Lionel kept glancing at the unresponsive Adelaide, then abruptly stood up and took a stance.
“Look, my lady. This step is so difficult.”
“Don’t! Don’t show me right now!”
Lionel was already stepping. Adelaide, grumbling with every ounce of irritation she had, grabbed Lionel’s hand and pulled it to her waist. Lionel barely managed to hide his smile and showed her a deliberately wrong step.
“Your Grace, you should at least keep the beat at a time like this.”
“Why should I!”
“Don’t they make a fine pair.”
“Even if I were inclined to agree, it’s too soon for that!”
Benjamin clapped his hands to keep the beat. Adelaide could not believe she was spinning around in the dining room. Lionel kept putting his feet in the wrong places, yet with uncanny precision he never once stepped on Adelaide’s feet as he moved them astray.
“No, left! Turn to the left!”
“Like this?”
“You need to turn left from my direction!”
“Ah, from my lady’s side… I’m sorry. Let me try like this.”
After going along with the practice session, Adelaide knocked back her white wine the moment the dance ended.
“Don’t choke, my lady.”
“That’s your fault!”
“Yes. You went to all that trouble because of me. Thank you.”
No matter how much Adelaide shouted and snapped, Lionel just kept smiling. Adelaide, unable to contain her temper, left the dining room without a word of farewell.
“Your Grace, you had something to tell my lady, didn’t you? I’ll pass it along.”
“No, I’ll tell her myself.”
“My lady is upset because of me. I should be the one to do it. My father in heaven would want me to pass along your message for you.”
Bringing up Andrei left Duke Berthier with no room to hold his ground. Duke Berthier relayed what he had meant to say to Adelaide with a sour look on his face, and Lionel hurried out of the dining room saying he would let her know right away.
“Benjamin.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Not that one.”
“I think they suit each other rather well, Your Grace.”
“They don’t! That boy looks nothing like Viscount Lavota! He won’t do!”
Benjamin was a seasoned steward who knew his limits. This was not blood pressure that a lush forest and birdsong could soothe. He silently held out Duke Berthier’s blood pressure medication.
Adelaide had not the slightest intention of sitting down over tea with the Armetia lady who had supposedly entered a convent of her own free will, laughing and chatting away.
Whatever hardship the girl had been through, Adelaide was someone who believed that when a problem arose, you might not always be able to face it head-on, but you should at least not run away.
Lionel, who had come to relay Duke Berthier’s message, stayed on for a good while regardless of Adelaide’s answer, and only left after he had managed to get tea out of her, then candy, and then a pat on the head.
“He gets more shameless by the day.”
“Viscount Lavota?”
“Were you sleeping with your eyes open? Don’t go calling him Viscount already when he hasn’t even had his status confirmed before His Majesty.”
“But my lady called him that too.”
“I was being sarcastic. I won’t have my personal maid giving titles to someone who hasn’t even been recognized as a nobleman yet.”
The misunderstanding that Lionel was Duke Berthier’s illegitimate child had been cleared up, but old grievances don’t disappear so easily.
In this new second life, it was something that had not yet happened, but Adelaide had not forgotten being thrown out of the house for pushing Lionel.
Unaware of any of that, Amy, as always, took Adelaide’s true feelings, wrapped them prettily, and presented them to herself as a gift.
“Oh, my lady. You will always be first with me. Even if Viscount Lavota becomes a count someday, he will never come before you.”
“I don’t think your ears are the problem anymore.”
“My ears, eyes, and mind are all perfectly healthy. Now, please stand up for a moment. I need to take my lady’s measurements again.”
“Would you stop saying my lady like that?”
“If I can’t call my lady my lady, what am I supposed to call you? I can’t very well say your lady, can I?”
Adelaide stood with her arms spread wide and looked down at Amy pressing a measuring tape here and there. Since Adelaide had refused to wear a tightly laced corset, most of her dresses had to be re-fitted.
“But my lady, are you truly never going to wear a corset again?”
“Never. That’s why I keep fainting, wearing things like that.”
“Fainting occasionally isn’t so bad. Especially in front of gentlemen. They say gentlemen feel a protective instinct when they see a delicate lady.”
“What kind of man only feels protective when a woman actually faints. Every last one of them is,”
“Yes, an empty husk of a gentleman.”
Amy let out a small sigh. Adelaide was slender, but other young ladies were just as slender as she was. Some had reportedly broken their own ribs tightening their corsets to reduce their waist measurements, and here Adelaide was saying to throw the corset out entirely. Amy couldn’t tell whether this would become a new trend or a choice that left her behind in social circles.
“I hear the Armetia lady is as delicate as a reed and slender enough to be held in one arm.”
“Predictable.”
“What is, my lady?”
“If her body is that frail, how could her spirit be any stronger? She must have thrown a fit over something trivial and insisted on going to the convent.”
Adelaide had no interest in Duke Berthier’s wishes. Making friends had never interested her at seventeen, and it still didn’t now.
