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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: A Sick Child's Memories
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Having quit the academy, Leonhart had no choice but to build connections through other means.
But how could he foster friendships when his asthma left him barely able to support his own body?
Moreover, if rumors spread that he was on the verge of death, there would have been even fewer nobles to support him.
Of course, his faction likely began to form after he regained his health and defeated the Demon King.
Even so, the other princes' factions were already well-established, leaving him at a disadvantage.
This was why Leonhart wasn't chosen as the crown prince and had to compete on nearly equal footing with the other princes.
‘I thought that would be a problem solved if I just supported him…’
There was no way Leonhart would join hands with me. Unless he was insane, would he really accept help from his stalker?
‘Didn't he join the expedition to avoid marrying Adrianne?’
No wonder it seemed strange that Leonhart, who was weak in swordsmanship, volunteered for the expedition.
At the time, I thought he was pressured into it because he was the powerless third prince, but to think he volunteered because he'd rather die than marry Adrianne.
This was a hopeless situation. From now on, I had no choice but to do my best to avoid Leonhart.
‘Anyway, the protagonist of this world is Piache. I just need to focus on her.’
Piache was slower in her studies than other children and clumsy with her words. Would she be able to adapt well?
‘It would be nice if I could at least check out the academy's atmosphere beforehand.’
Just then, a directive appeared.
[Step 3: (Pressing the space between your brows as if tired) Apply to observe a class at the academy.]
What's with the trash author doing something commendable for once? I read the directive, bewildered.
“Apply to observe a class at the academy.”
“My Lady intends to… observe in person?”
[Step 2: (Slamming the table) Are you suggesting I entrust the Ivrante family's ward to just anyone? How can I know what kind of education she will receive!]
“Do you think the Ivrante family's ward can be entrusted to just anyone, Butler? How can I know what kind of education she will receive?”
“Ah… My apologies, I was shortsighted. If you tell me which class you desire, I will check if an observation is possible.”
Of course, I don't know what classes there are. The trash author wouldn't tell me, would they?
[Step 2: (Glaring at the butler as if thinking, 'What kind of idiot is this?') If I specify a class, they'll prepare for it in advance!]
The trash author is being quite cooperative today.
It's not like they feel sorry for dragging me into a childcare story.
‘The academy must be incredibly important for the plot.’
I deliberately furrowed my brow.
“If I specify a class, won't they just prepare for it in advance!”
“Ah, I see.”
Specifying a class was pointless. I had no interest in the content of the lessons.
What would I even understand from listening?
“Find a way for me to observe without specifying a class.”
“I will inform you of the results as quickly as possible. Would you care for more tea?”
“No, that's enough.”
I should probably tell Piache beforehand, right?
She needs time to prepare herself.
[Step 3: (With a stern gaze) Has Piache eaten breakfast?]
“Has Piache eaten breakfast?”
“She seemed quite lethargic all morning and skipped her meal, I'm told.”
Because we'd been eating separately until this morning, I didn't even know Piache had starved.
‘Why is she lethargic? And why didn't you make her eat? Did you call a doctor?’
I couldn't ask any of that.
Because Adrianne was the kind of person who wouldn't bat an eye even if Piache starved for days.
And…
[Step 2: (Roughly setting down the empty teacup) How dare she refuse a meal?! Where did she learn such ill-mannered behavior!]
I also had to follow the directive.
I swallowed a sigh and slammed the empty teacup down.
“How dare she refuse a meal?!”
“My apologies…”
“What's the reason? Is she sick?”
“…I received a report that she has a high fever.”
[Step 1: (In a sharp voice) She's acting selfishly over a little fever? Isn't it because you've been coddling her that the child has become so spoiled!]
“You've called a doctor, I presume?”
“Yes? Ah, yes. He has yet to arrive.”
[Step 3: (Averting your gaze from the butler) Tell her to come down to the dining room. Right now!]
‘Seriously, can't we just leave a sick child alone!’
A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I wiped my face.
“Tell her to come down to the dining room. Right now!”
“…Yes, my Lady.”
But Piache did not appear in the dining room.
Her fever was too high for her to get out of bed.
***
“Hah, hah.”
“And so the prince and the princess… Young Miss, should I stop reading?”
“Yes…”
The maid closed the storybook.
Her head was hazy. Sounds echoed as if she were underwater.
The maid set down the storybook and felt Piache's forehead.
The maid's hand, usually warm, felt cold today.
“Young Miss, the ice pack has melted. I'll get you a new one.”
The ice packs tucked under her arms were replaced with new ones. The startling chill made Piache's teeth chatter.
“C-cold, it's cold…”
“It's because your fever is so high. I'll take them out later, so please bear with it until then. You can do that, can't you?”
“Mhm, yes, P-Piache can, can do it…”
“Our Young Miss is so brave.”
Piache's face flushed at the maid's praise.
But it wasn't noticeable on her already fever-reddened cheeks.
“Young Miss, you must eat if you're to take your medicine.”
“B-but I don't want to eat…”
“The chef made crab soup just for you. Please have just a little, for his sake.”
Contrary to what the maid said, the chef was not the kind of person who would cook a meal especially for Piache.
He often complained about an orphan of unknown origin eating the food he made.
He would even subtly hint that Piache should eat just anything.
Of course, Piache never told anyone.
In fact, she felt sorry toward the chef.
“…O-okay, just a little.”
“Even a little is fine. They should be bringing it now.”
“Okay…”
Piache answered meekly and slowly closed her eyes.
She had no energy; it was too difficult to keep her eyes open.
When she was even younger than now, Piache had been the prettiest baby at the orphanage.
Cotton-candy pink hair and blue eyes that reflected her gentle nature.
She rarely cried and was always smiling brightly, so it was impossible not to adore her.
Nobles hoping to adopt always showed interest in Piache first.
Some nobles even began donating to the orphanage for Piache's sake.
The greedy orphanage director wouldn't let Piache go.
It was because the donations would decrease if Piache were adopted.
In the end, it wasn't until she turned three that Piache was adopted by the couple who donated the most to the orphanage.
They were a marquess and his wife, with a very respectable air. They placed Piache in a luxurious carriage and said:
“What a beautiful child, just like a doll. Please be a lovely little sister to our daughter.”
But the couple annulled the adoption after just one year, claiming Piache had scratched their daughter's forehead.
When she returned to the orphanage, Piache couldn't speak properly.
She would wake up startled in her sleep and have seizures if someone touched her from behind.
She sometimes had accidents in bed.
Her personality also became extremely timid.
At a time when she should have been trying to appeal to prospective adoptive parents, she would just curl up in a corner.
It took another year before Piache began to speak again, little by little.
She stuttered, and her pronunciation was so poor that she was nearly unintelligible.
This was because she had developed mutism during the crucial period for learning to speak.
Around that time, a noble visited the orphanage, arriving in a carriage so magnificent it was jaw-dropping.
The orphanage director made a fuss, announcing that the Duchess had come to visit.
Piache peeked at the Duchess from a distance.
The Duchess had a slightly intimidating air. Her expressionless face was pale.
It made her seem sad, and also sick.
Maybe it's because she doesn't smile.
For the first time, Piache found herself wanting to see someone else smile.
Just then, the Duchess walked straight toward Piache.
Without even glancing at the other children.
“Will you come with me?”
“I… I, I c-can't, can't s-s-speak, speak we-well. A-and, and I don't, don't know how to r-read… I-is, is that okay?”
The orphanage director broke into a cold sweat at the utterly incomprehensible reply.
She quickly tried to draw the Duchess's attention by introducing another child.
All the nobles who had visited the orphanage until now had been the same.
They would show interest in Piache's appearance, but the moment she spoke, they would turn their attention to other children with a look of distaste.
Piache hung her head low.
Strangely, she felt she would be upset if the Duchess spoke to another child.
It wasn't the first or second time this had happened.
She'd never felt this way before, so why now? Piache couldn't understand it.
As the dejected Piache stared at the floor, the Duchess spoke.
“It doesn't matter if you can't speak well. I didn't expect you to know how to read.”
“……!”
Piache was truly stunned.
The Duchess had understood her words, which no one else ever could!
“Will you come with me, or will you stay in this filthy place?”
“……”
“The choice is yours.”
Piache chose the Duchess.
After several hours in the carriage, they arrived at an enormous house.
It was dozens of times larger than the marquess's house where she had been adopted.
She was so surprised that she asked if it was the imperial palace, but the butler chuckled and told her.
“Welcome to the Ivrante Estate, Young Miss Piache.”
And so, Piache officially became the ward of the ducal family.
The Duchess was an incredibly strict person. She especially disliked any behavior that lacked dignity.
Piache had to learn everything, starting with how to eat properly.
At first, she was too self-conscious to eat her fill. Her body, tense all day, ached, and the bedroom where she slept alone was so large it was frightening.
It was sad enough being alone in an unfamiliar place, but the Duchess never offered a single warm word.
In fact, they rarely even saw each other, as the Duchess almost never left her bedroom.
But Piache tried her best.
She never did anything the Duchess disliked and practiced her table manners until her hands ached.
That was how much she liked the Ivrante Estate.
She liked the stoic butler and the kind maids.
But most of all, she liked the Duchess.
The Duchess who scolded her for everything else, but never once pointed out her way of speaking…
Piache really liked her.
