Chapter 38: A Father’s Warmth, and a Brother’s…

Faustina sat on a swivel chair in the library, spinning around and around while lost in thought.
When the rotation stopped, she kicked against the floor to spin again.
When it stopped, she kicked off once more.
She folded her arms and hummed, clearly worrying about something.
If Rinsy were here, she would have scolded her for poor manners, but she was not.

After lunch, she had come to look for a book she wanted to read, but nothing in particular caught her interest.
Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, she sat on the swivel chair and started spinning.
Thinking while spinning was surprisingly fun.
But she was starting to feel a little sick.
She stopped and looked up at the high ceiling.

She recalled lunchtime.

Apple pie, as Faustina had requested, would be served for afternoon tea.
Only her portion had been made smaller.
That part was fine.

As the meal progressed as usual, Faustina felt that today was unusually quiet.
She glanced at Elvira.
Perhaps it was her imagination, but Elvira looked downcast as she used her knife and fork.
Next, she looked at Cain.
As always, he wore his cool expression.
Cain was unreadable as ever, but Elvira clearly seemed troubled.

Faustina figured that even if she asked, she would not get an answer, so she deliberately did not ask.
When she reached for the salad, she saw green peas she disliked and her brows drooped.
She could never grow fond of their peculiar texture.
She stared at the peas and came up with an idea.
She put the peas into her mouth together with a larger amount of other vegetables.
Skillfully pushing the peas to the side of her mouth, she chewed the other vegetables, then bit the peas once and swallowed them.
Because she disliked them, it took longer to swallow, making them even harder to eat.
Still, this way, she could manage somehow.

If that were all, it would just have been her devising a method to deal with green peas.
But reality was not that simple.
Because her portion was smaller than the others’, she finished eating first.
It was when orange juice was brought out after the meal.

“Mother.”
“Yes, Elvira?”
“You will hold a grand party for my birthday too, won’t you?”

Out of the blue, Elvira brought up the topic of her own birthday party, which would be held two months later.
Faustina concluded that Elvira’s earlier dejection had come from anxiety over whether her own birthday party might not be held.

A birthday only comes once a year, after all.
It was only natural for Elvira to feel uneasy.

“Of course.
Faustina’s situation was unavoidable, but for Cain’s and Elvira’s birthdays, we will hold parties as usual.”

Elvira’s face relaxed in visible relief.

After that, nothing happened.
She finished her orange juice and headed to the library.

“I hope it’s just my imagination, but I’ve got a bad feeling.”

She had no memory of causing trouble at Cain’s or Elvira’s birthday parties.
Once the queasiness passed, she started spinning again.

“Hmmm.”
“Fana?”
“Fah—!?”

Startled by a sudden voice, she let out a strange sound.
Embarrassment rushed to her face, heat pooling in her cheeks.
She stopped the chair and looked back to see Citrine standing there, holding an old book in one hand.

“You’ll make yourself dizzy if you spin too much.”
“Y-Yes.”

Had she not already felt sick just a moment ago?

“Did you come to look for a book?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t find anything I want to read.”
“Ah, that reminds me.
I did say I would take you to Aleister’s Bookshop.”

Two months earlier, the topic had come up during breakfast on the morning of the Queen’s tea party.
Citrine had been busy then, so it was decided that Ludmila would accompany her instead, but Faustina had collapsed at the tea party, and the matter had been left unresolved.

“Please take me when you have time, Father.”
“I’ll try to make time as soon as I can.”
“It’s fine whenever you can.
Your work comes first.”

Because of his position as a duke, his free time was extremely limited.
Even so, he always made an effort to spend time with his family, and Faustina loved her father for that.
An urge to cling to him welled up, and she hugged Citrine around the waist.

“Oh my, you’re quite affectionate today, Fana.”
“Heehee.
Father always smells like flowers!”

She had loved that scent in her previous life as well.
It was not overly sweet, just a faint floral sweetness.
Not an artificial perfume, but a natural scent that put her heart at ease.
She rubbed her cheek against him, and a warm hand rested on her head, carefully stroking her hair so as not to mess it up.

As before, she could share such parent-child closeness with her father, but why was it impossible with her mother?
Should she have been the one to act spoiled?
Or should she have played the role of the perfect duke’s daughter her mother wanted?
If she had known the fate that awaited her in the end, she would never have entertained such foolish thoughts or actions.

Everything had been the self-inflicted result of her own greed and arrogance.
She would not walk the same path again.
She did not want to.

While leaning against Citrine, she thought about how to bring Bernhard and Elvira together going forward.

So far, she had done nothing to Elvira, so Bernhard’s impression of her should not be bad.
In fact, he treated her properly as his fiancée.
Was there no way to break off the engagement amicably without earning his displeasure?
When Bernhard was with Elvira, his expressions were livelier and happier than when he was with Faustina.
She did not need words to understand that the two of them were “fated lovers.”

If she continued without incident, her queen-consort education would resume, and her status as fiancée would remain unchanged.
Feigning illness and collapsing was an option, but she wanted to avoid causing trouble for those around her.
Still, once she chose to pursue breaking off the engagement, she would have to steel herself somewhere along the way.

In the end, would Bernhard himself have to realize that he loved Elvira?
Even if Faustina did nothing, Elvira was already approaching Bernhard on her own, so perhaps he would notice that way.
Wait—

An idea flashed through her mind.

Because of past events, even when Faustina met Bernhard, their conversations never lasted long, and silence often followed.
Bernhard himself often seemed at a loss for what to talk about.

But what about Elvira?
Elvira was naturally good at conversation, and if she were his partner, their talks would flow easily without running out of topics.

If Bernhard spent more time talking with Elvira, he would naturally come to realize it.
Who made his heart flutter more, and who directed more affection his way.

Alright.
It would take time, but she would go with this plan.
From now on, even when she met His Highness, she would keep their conversations as short as possible.
That way, he would surely realize that he loved Elvira.

Humming happily and practically scattering little flowers around herself, Faustina remained unaware that Citrine mistook her good mood for excitement over the apple pie at afternoon tea.

When Citrine went to fetch a dictionary and did not return, a butler came to the library.
Feeling apologetic about interrupting his master, who was clearly pleased by his daughter’s affection, the butler nonetheless urged him to attend to paperwork.
That’s right, Citrine said, and turned to the butler.
Faustina pulled away and said she would return to her room, then left the library.

Pleased with what she considered a brilliant plan for an amicable engagement annulment, she headed for her room in high spirits.
The servants at work—cleaning or carrying laundry—watched her with warm smiles as she walked along humming with little flowers blooming around her.

Back in her room, she immediately sat at her desk and opened her notebook.

Faustina’s This and That.

She summarized things concisely, and once she had written a fair amount, she set down her pen.

“This should be fine.
Oh, right.
I need to prepare for the tea party at the Fuarin Ducal House.”

That said, last time she had merely stuck to Bernhard the entire time and annoyed him.
There was only one action Faustina needed to take.

Do not approach Bernhard.

That was all.

“How simple and anticlimactic…
No, no, thinking of His Highness’s happiness, I shouldn’t call it anticlimactic.
Still, the Fuarin Ducal House…
Lord Cloud, huh…”

The Queen Consort Sierra’s nephew.
That made him a cousin to Bernhard and Neige.
One of the few friends who had been close to the princes.

“Lord Cloud… I don’t remember him at all.
I was obsessed with His Highness, but I barely remember any other young lords.”

Even among houses of the same rank, things differed depending on whether there was interaction.
As the Crown Prince’s fiancée, she must have met him at some point.
And yet she remembered nothing.

When she tried to recall her academy days, there was nothing.
It was not that she had forgotten.
There had simply been nothing to remember.
That was the conclusion she reached.

“Alright, fine.
I just won’t approach Lord Cloud either.
That works.”

She wrote it down.
Then she returned the pen to its place, closed the notebook, and hid it under the bed.

There was still time before tea, so she lay on her back on the bed.
When she had dozed off earlier after returning from the church, she had seen a dream of the past.
Perhaps dreams might give her glimpses of memories she could not recall.
She was not sleepy, but if she lay still with her eyes closed, she might fall asleep without noticing.
With that thought, Faustina decided to sleep.

She relaxed her body, let go of her thoughts, and allowed her consciousness to sink toward sleep—

“Are you asleep, Fana?”

She did not fall asleep.
Cain had come to her room.
Faustina hesitated for a moment about waking up, then decided to pretend to sleep.
Half excited, half anxious, she wondered what her brother would do.

“Fana?”

Cain approached the bed and poked her cheek.
Seeing no reaction, he assumed she was fast asleep.
He let out a breath, sat on the bed, and stroked her cheek.

“Hey, Fana.
Mother told me earlier that an invitation has arrived from the Fuarin Ducal House.
As you know, it’s Her Majesty’s family home.”

I know.

“The date is next month.
And there’s something I deliberately didn’t tell Mother.”

What is it?

“At that tea party, the Crown Prince and the others will attend in disguise.”

You exchange letters with His Highness, Brother, so that’s how you found out.
You said the same thing before.

“Even though it hasn’t been publicly announced that you’re the Crown Prince’s fiancée, most nobles know it.
Given your appearance and age, it’s only natural to assume you are.
Though, since you collapsed, there’s been a flood of families recommending their own daughters to the royal family.”

That must be hard on His Majesty.
And His Highness tells Brother everything.

“…Hey, Fana.
I tried thinking, in my own way, about why you run away from the Crown Prince.”

Faustina, committed to playing dead, did not know it.
At that moment, Cain’s ruby-red eyes were no longer beautiful, but a murky, blood-like red.

“I thought it through… and I reached an answer.
I won’t say it out loud.”

That’s such a loaded way to put it.
But if I wake up now, all the effort of enduring the tickling and playing possum will be wasted.

“All I can say is this.
Make the choice you won’t regret.”

He removed his hand from her cheek and stood up from the bed.
Talking to someone who was asleep meant his voice would not reach them, but that was fine.
He spoke because he did not want her to hear.
After one last glance at Faustina, still lying there unchanged, he said goodbye and left the room.

When she heard the door close, she opened her eyes.

…

Cain’s words echoed in her mind.
Make the choice you won’t regret.
Her pale yellow eyes, the same as the sister goddesses’, shone with determination.

“I understand, Brother.”

Even if the prickling in her heart someday grew into searing pain and struck her down, she would achieve her goal without leaving regrets.

She abruptly sat up and raised both arms.

Victory.