Chapter 43
The sensation was purely delightful.
Watching Aubrey and Viscount Lilius simultaneously tremble with indignation at my saccharine, cloying response brought me a wave of genuine satisfaction. Their obvious discomfort didn’t bother me in the slightest. What recourse did they actually have? At this stage, there was absolutely no reason for me to stop playing the role of the innocent, charming niece.
Whether I endured Aubrey’s silent loathing or the overt hostility of Leon Frazier, the outcome remained identical. Given that reality, maintaining a facade of sweet obedience—especially with the household retainers observing—offered a distinct tactical advantage.
Deep down, a small part of me braced for Leon Frazier to snap, perhaps hurling a piece of silverware in my direction while demanding I drop the sickening act. To my relief, that outburst never materialized. It seemed the man possessed enough intelligence to maintain appearances, fitting for a protagonist of his stature. Neither the Viscount nor his wife would dare launch a direct verbal assault in such a public, formal setting.
Feeling the tension bleed away, I finally turned my attention to the breakfast spread. The arrangement was remarkably lavish for a morning meal, clearly designed to impress. Baskets overflowing with fruit were cradled by marble cherubs, and the porcelain bowls featured intricate carvings reminiscent of mermaid scales. The furniture was draped in twill and accented with pearl-toned silk and delicate lace, while lamps shrouded in ethereal muslin bathed the long table in a soft, flattering glow. Vases of warm ivory held floral arrangements so vibrant they must have been cut from the gardens only moments ago.
My appetite, however, was hampered by my lingering illness. I sampled the chilled appetizers and salad but quickly set them aside; the cold temperature was punishing to my raw throat. My interest only piqued when a servant presented a bowl of steaming soup, rich with tender clams and peas. The heat was a welcome relief, and the sophisticated blend of herbs and pepper felt like a medicinal balm for my scratchy throat.
Once I cleared the bowl, a servant hovered nearby, offering a choice of diluted wine, tart lemon juice, or champagne to begin the meal properly.
“I’ll take herbal tea,” I requested.
“Certainly, My Lady. Would you prefer a specific temperature?”
“Make it very hot, please.”
“We have an exceptional chamomile. Would that suit your taste?”
“That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
Our quiet exchange remained private, shielded from the others. Aubrey seemed to have retreated from her offensive, and Viscount Lilius filled the silence by signaling the small ensemble of musicians. As the soft, morning-appropriate melodies drifted through the dining hall, the music provided a comfortable acoustic veil for the guests’ private conversations.
I managed a few bites of honey-glazed ham, but when the specialty dish of crispy fried oysters arrived, I found myself hesitating. Under normal circumstances, I would have relished such a delicacy, but now I could only take small, cautious nibbles. The crunchy texture felt like sandpaper against my inflamed throat. It made me realize how thoughtful Adel and the junior butler had been, exclusively serving me soft, warm dishes in my room that were easy for a convalescent to swallow.
“Are you… struggling… to eat?”
A soft voice broke through my thoughts. I glanced to my right to find Lisian watching me. He moved with a grace that sat somewhere between aristocratic perfection and something divine.
Lisian was a unique case. Unlike most of the Frazier family, he hadn’t harbored an immediate hatred for me. Knowing he was destined to be the true romantic lead for Coriko, I had allowed myself to be a bit more open with him than with the others.
“It isn’t that,” I replied, offering a rare moment of honesty. “My throat is just very sore from this cold.”
The beautifully fried oysters, despite their luxury, were simply too painful to enjoy at the moment. Lisian looked down at my plate for a second before acting.
“My… my selection… was steamed,” he murmured.
Without fanfare, he transferred his own plate of succulent beef stew over to me. Since I had arrived late, my menu had been predetermined, but Lisian had clearly arrived early enough to make a specific request.
“But Lisian, what will you have if I take this?”
He took my plate of oysters with a nonchalant shrug. “I… enjoy… oysters as well.”
A strange, flickering warmth bloomed in my chest. “I’ll make sure to enjoy it, then,” I said, my voice softening. “Thank you, Lisian.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied simply.
The stew was magnificent. The beef had been slow-cooked in a reduction of red wine and aromatic spices until it was tender enough to fall apart at the mere suggestion of a fork. My appetite had been nonexistent, yet this meal tasted incredible. I followed it with sips of the scorching chamomile tea, blowing gently on the surface before letting the floral liquid soothe my throat and spread a comforting heat through my limbs.
“So this is the medication he needs?”
“That is correct, My Lady.”
“I appreciate your help!”
I tucked the vial from the family doctor into my pocket while the assistant butler draped a heavy cloak over my shoulders.
“Please keep that wrapped tightly until Head Maid Adel returns,” he urged while securing the silk ribbons. “I’d rather not face her temper if you catch another chill.”
I promised to be quick and hurried out into the crisp air. My current quarters were tucked away in a remote wing of the Frazier Main Castle, a sharp contrast to the prime real estate occupied by the twins, Leon and Lisian.
The disparity in our living conditions was a reflection of our perceived worth. The twins were the pride of the Marquis, both brilliant scholars and formidable warriors who vied for the top spots at the Academy. They had inherited the martial prowess of their father, the legendary Knight King, showing mastery of the blade at a remarkably young age.
Leon was a different breed of difficult compared to Tulia. While she had been a crude, unrefined troublemaker, Leon was the archetype of a frigid, intimidating young lord. The staff knew better than to cross him.
“Ah, Lady Tulia?” a servant noted as I approached the twins’ wing.
“Is Brother Lisian inside?”
“Young Master Lisian departed for the Central Library a short while ago.”
He was already back at his studies. It was typical behavior for the Academy’s most promising student. The library, often referred to as the Hall of Wisdom, was a ten-minute trek from the main residence. As I crossed the expansive courtyard, the scent of old parchment began to permeate the air. The massive structure housed an immense collection of literature, and despite its scale, it featured only a single guarded entrance to protect its treasures.
I arrived at the doors with a spring in my step. The guards offered respectful nods, and several librarians acknowledged me with silent bows as I navigated the stacks. Eventually, I spotted a shock of silver hair at the primary study table.
Silver hair was a cheat code for elegance. Even in the dim light of the library, Lisian’s hair shimmered like polished metal, marking him undeniably as high-born. I crept forward, trying to keep my footsteps silent so as not to disturb the scholarly atmosphere, while rehearsing a friendly greeting in my head.
However, the mood in the room felt sharply off.
“So, the… the text on… the proper… path of… lead-leadership… where…”
Lisian was struggling through his stutter, trying to maintain his composure while asking for a specific volume. The librarian facing him didn’t hide his annoyance, letting out a heavy, theatrical sigh.
“I’m sorry? You’ll have to repeat that, Young Master.”
“The… path of… lead-leadership…”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” the man muttered under his breath.
My blood turned to ice. Did that man just curse at Lisian? The librarian began scratching his head with exaggerated frustration, whispering just loud enough to be heard.
“I can’t make sense of a single word he says…”
From my angle behind Lisian, I could only see the side of his face, but it was enough to see the light die in his eyes. Without a shred of respect, the librarian slid a quill and paper across the table with such force it was practically a projectile.
“Why don’t you just write it down, Young Master?”
The social gap between a librarian and the heir of a Marquis was a canyon, yet this man treated Lisian with open contempt. Lisian didn’t lash out; he simply looked resigned, as if he were used to being treated like a nuisance.
Of course he was used to it. I remembered this from the pages of the story. This silver-haired boy had spent his life being dismissed because of his speech impediment, a wound that only the female lead, Coriko, was supposed to heal later on.
But even a villainous soul has its limits. Watching this was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl.
“You there.”
The librarian’s head snapped up, his eyes widening as he registered my presence.
“Eep! Lady… Lady Tulia!”
“Hey,” I said, my boots hitting the floor with a heavy, rhythmic thud as I closed the distance. I stood before him like an impending storm. “Listen to me.”
“Yes… yes, My Lady?”
“Tell me exactly what you just said to my brother.”
I might be a social pariah, but I pay my debts—especially when they involve a very good bowl of beef stew.
