Chapter 4
4. That Maid2021.09.12.
Was it Reina or Rietta? The head butler stared in utter disbelief at the familiar maid who had been working in the mansion since she was quite young, now standing there dressed in the young lady’s gown, and echoed back in shock.
“What……?”
“How many times do I have to repeat myself! Can’t you get it the first time?”
Mrs. Hurst scolded him in a lowered voice.
“This girl got married in the young lady’s place five years ago! Sir Arthur is looking for her! Don’t you grasp the situation?”
It wasn’t that the head butler hadn’t heard her. He simply couldn’t find the right words to express his reaction to this turn of events.
“Huh…….”
He pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed repeatedly.
“Huh.”
The head butler swept back his hair with raised fingers, turned halfway around, then suddenly shook his fist wildly and shouted in a low voice.
“I get it, I get it! That’s what you’re saying……! How can you……! How can you drop a bombshell like this on me only now?!”
His jaw trembled with an emotion that was a mix of fury and panic as he shook his fist at the air.
‘So that’s what it was! She’s not my wife! What am I to do with this? If he makes an issue of it……!’
Deceiving the imperial family. Insulting the imperial family. Fraudulent marriage. False vows……. His head spun as he tallied the charges, and the head butler squeezed his eyes shut.
‘This madhouse is finally going to get us all killed!’
The head butler quickly composed himself, adjusted his glasses, and asked Mrs. Hurst.
“Who else knows about this?”
Mrs. Hurst answered.
“You, me, Lady Christina, and the marquis and his wife.”
And probably Sir Arthur as well. Several more questions followed as they pieced together the facts. Had this girl made the marriage vows before the priest? Had she gone through the wedding night? Had Sir Arthur shown any sign of suspicion that day, even a hint? Be honest. Mrs. Hurst answered most of them, while Reina stammered through a few. The head butler, who had been staring silently at Reina, trembled and shook his fist again.
“No, even so, dressing this girl in a gown right now…… What do you plan to do?!”
Reina hurriedly shut her mouth and bowed her head. Knock knock. At the sound of the knock, Mrs. Hurst, the head butler, and Reina all turned to look at the door at once. The head butler, anxious that the door might open any second, positioned himself to shield Reina behind his back as he faced the door and replied.
“What is it?”
A servant’s voice came from outside.
“Head butler? Lord Rembrandt is asking about the schedule for the family portrait he mentioned today.”
The head butler drew in a short breath and pressed his forehead. ……Lord Rembrandt! He had completely forgotten amid this unexpected chaos. The servant’s voice continued.
“The marquis said he wanted to do the first sketch on the evening Sir Arthur returns. In fact, he’s already been waiting for three hours……. Should I tell him to go back today?”
The head butler frantically checked his pocket watch, shoved it back into his pocket, and clenched his fist.
‘Why schedule something so uncertain!’
Rembrandt Eaton von Klein. That was the name of the distinguished guest who had been staying at the marquis’s mansion for the past week or so. He was the emperor’s nephew by marriage and a cousin to the crown prince, the heir to the prestigious ‘Klein’ family, which had a longer history in the imperial palace than the current imperial house itself. He wasn’t the sort who would normally paint portraits—that was a job for court painters—but he was a promising artist nonetheless, and now he had been exceptionally dispatched to the Julius territory to paint the marquis’s portrait at the emperor’s request. In line with the imperial favor, he had come in person to stay at the mansion and fulfill the task of painting the portrait of ‘Elector Julius.’ The imperial family had packaged it as a ‘small gift for the marquis, who has contributed much to the empire over the years yet only now receives recognition for his merits—that is, only just becoming an elector.’ But no elector had ever had the Klein heir—let alone the emperor’s own nephew by marriage—summoned for a personal portrait, making it a remarkable privilege and exception. By sending ‘Lord Rembrandt,’ the imperial family was showing the surrounding nobles just how elevated Marquis Julius’s status had become. The marquis, eager to boast, had deliberately overlapped the schedule, whining to the nobles around him with lines like, ‘I have a prior appointment with the painter, so-and-so, I can’t just reschedule on my own, it’s really difficult, blah blah blah,’ flaunting the existence of the Lord Rembrandt sent by the imperial family. Since Lord Rembrandt was effectively serving as an imperial envoy expressing goodwill, he let the marquis boast and strut using his name. Besides, the process of painting a portrait naturally involved the kind of flattering chatter that elevated the subject.
「Not everyone has the eye to spot a pearl in the mud, after all.」
「What noble could dare claim the emperor’s son as a son-in-law?」
「A historic reunion will soon take place.」
「I look forward to taking home a memory worth boasting about myself.」
Flattered by Lord Rembrandt’s pleasantries, the marquis eagerly replied.
「Hahaha. Oh, come now, it won’t be anything that historic. Just a simple family gathering.」
「But if you’d be so kind as to view it as the sort of historic scene that would pique everyone’s curiosity, would it be too presumptuous to ask for one painting from Lord Rembrandt……?」
……And so the marquis had scheduled Lord Rembrandt for today—the reunion of Arthur and Christina with the marquis and his wife—to capture it in a single painting. And that Lord Rembrandt had been standing alone in the appointed place, waiting blankly for three hours. The head butler wanted to bite his tongue and die.
“Where are the madam and the master?”
“They’re treating the crowds in the square to an open-air banquet. Reporters are starting to gather, and with this sudden schedule, both of them are too busy to…….”
The head butler nearly burst out yelling.
‘Reporters are the problem right now!’
Lord Rembrandt was effectively an imperial envoy. In other words, someone who would closely report the marquis household’s situation to the imperial family. With the mansion in an uproar over ‘she’s not my wife,’ how would he relay this after waiting three hours for the absent Sir Arthur and marquis family?! The head butler answered in a fluster.
“Tell him we’re sorry for being out of sorts today…… No, wait! I’ll go myself.”
The head butler paused just before rushing out, stared at Reina for a few seconds, and said.
“……For now, stay here in the dress.”
Reina stared blankly at the head butler’s retreating back.
* * *
“……Ha.”
‘Lord Rembrandt,’ who had followed the servant, peered through the crack in the door with a small fragment of mirror and confirmed the woman and Mrs. Hurst left in the room. He couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. The young lady standing there in the dress with a world-ending expression on her face. Curly honey-blonde hair, deep-set beautiful features. Dressed and adorned, she astonishingly resembled ‘Christina.’ But she couldn’t fool the discerning eye of an artist. The subtly different impression. Eyes of a different color. Above all, she was someone Rembrandt already knew. · · ·
「Um…… Are you going to throw away that gazette after reading it?」
A few days ago, in the garden, a maid who had been side-eyeing him for a long time as he read the imperial gazette on a bench. Uncomfortable with her inscrutable gaze, he moved to leave, and she finally spoke up…… only to say.
「……Could you give it to me instead?」
Stunned and frozen, he watched as the maid’s face turned red and she added.
「Sh, should I pay for it? Of course, right……? I can’t pay much, but……」
Then she slyly pulled out the hand she’d hidden behind her apron. She opened her tightly clenched fist to reveal three coins.
「……」
They were already sweaty, as if she’d been gripping them long before approaching him.
· · · Rembrandt crossed his arms, bowed his head deeply, and chuckled softly.
‘She’s not my wife.’
And now this young lady suddenly dragged in and dressed up. He could vaguely picture what was going on. Julius. This is one hell of a mess. * * *
“What do you plan to do?”
At his aide-de-camp Tristan’s question, Arthur picked up a grape from his plate and ate it as he replied.
“Who knows? Let’s see what Marquis Julius does.”
Tristan said coldly.
“Isn’t the answer already clear? You saw them finally bringing out the ‘real Christina.’ Without a single apology. Acting like nothing happened.”
Arthur glanced at him. This wasn’t like his friend, who didn’t usually speak so sharply. Tristan looked angrier than Arthur himself, the person involved. And for good reason—while Arthur’s regrets over the matter had faded with time, Tristan had only learned the full story a few days ago, just as they neared the Julius territory. Arthur had told him matter-of-factly, ‘That’s what happened, so keep it in mind,’ but it was only natural for sparks to fly from his loyal aide’s eyes. How much hell had their conscripts from the Julius territory endured over the past five years? War was always grueling, but the special resentment in their hearts stemmed from ‘Julius’ ignoring them on the battlefield and failing to provide proper supplies. Even so, since Arthur was Julius’s son-in-law and heir, they had held back from badmouthing Julius too harshly in front of him. Fraudulent marriage? Tristan was furious enough to lose his mind. While Julius ignored them, Arthur had fed and sustained the soldiers for five years in their stead. The soldiers revered him now, but it had taken a long time; as Julius’s representative, Arthur had endured their protests and resentment over supplies. It was a miracle the army held together—there had been desertions, insubordination, even mutinies, truly dangerous situations multiple times. And yet, everyone took Arthur’s sense of responsibility for granted, saying things like, ‘He’ll get the promised wealth and glory when he returns,’ or ‘He has Christina Julius, the most beautiful woman in high society.’ And now a fraudulent marriage?! The more he thought about it, the more outrageous it seemed. In truth, Arthur had no reason to take responsibility for this army, but fully aware, he had endured the abuse in Julius’s place, held the most dangerous front lines, and kept them fed. Arthur smiled.
“Well, looks like they plan to give me their real daughter this time. Could see it as a gesture of reconciliation, right?”
Tristan bristled.
“How is that a gesture of reconciliation? To be honest, Your Excellency is too good for Lady Christina! It was true back then, and even more now.”
“……Thanks?”
Half amused, half awkward. Arthur’s ambiguous response made it clear he didn’t fully agree, so Tristan grew more agitated and pressed him.
“They’re treating you like a fool! They think you didn’t know they swapped in a fake five years ago, don’t they?”
Arthur soothed Tristan with the same smiling face.
“That’s why I told them she’s not my wife. Their faces were priceless, weren’t they?”
Priceless, indeed. But Tristan still grumbled with a face full of dissatisfaction.
“Even so……! Tch. Is that really enough to satisfy you?”
Thinking his loyal subordinate was endearing, Arthur rolled a fruit with his fingertip.
“Still not over it? Want me to scold them more?”
Tristan flared up and raised his voice at Arthur.
“Is my mood the issue right now?”
Arthur chuckled lightly.
