Chapter: 15
For some reason, she woke up early today.
More precisely, she heard something outside.
Dorothy got out of bed and looked out the window.
The sound she had heard was a carriage.
‘Did the Duke already return?’
The duke, who had gone up to the capital at dawn yesterday, had come back after just one night.
Well, that could happen.
Deciding not to think much of it, Dorothy opened the window.
Just then, her eyes met the duke as he stepped out of the carriage.
“Good morning, Duke.”
Had he tried to sleep the whole way back to Selibrums?
Brandon’s appearance was different from usual.
He wore only a light shirt without a jacket or vest.
Several buttons were undone.
His normally neat hair was slightly disheveled.
“You came back early! You must’ve had a hard time traveling all through the night.”
Dorothy had only meant to offer a simple morning greeting.
But—
‘Did he not hear me?’
He had stopped walking, so he must have heard her voice.
Yet no reply came.
He didn’t even look in her direction.
His head was tilted downward, so she couldn’t see his face clearly.
For some reason, it almost looked like the corners of his mouth were trembling.
‘Huh?’
She had only a moment to wonder.
The suddenly halted Brandon bent one knee.
It seemed his shoelace had come undone.
After tying it, he slowly stood up.
“Good morning, Dorothy.”
Then, as if he had just noticed her, he greeted her.
But she still couldn’t see his face clearly.
“It’s a nice morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes! Good morning, Duke! It is a nice morning.”
“Dorothy. By the way, what is that?”
“Pardon? That?”
“Yes, that.”
Crash!
As she turned her head toward what he was pointing at, a loud noise came from the opposite direction.
“Ahh! That startled me!”
The sudden crash made Dorothy jump.
“I’m sorry, but I’ll tell you what that is later. I think I need to check what that sound was first!”
The noise had come from the second floor of her house.
In her haste, Dorothy didn’t even look back at Brandon as she turned away.
“No, I must’ve been mistaken. See you later, Dorothy.”
Brandon’s voice followed behind her as she hurried off.
* * *
A flowerpot on the second floor had shattered.
It hadn’t even been placed precariously on the railing.
A stone that had flown in from somewhere nearby had smashed it.
Where on earth had the stone come from?
At least Mrs. Horton or anyone else hadn’t been hit.
Anyway, by noon, Dorothy had finished preparing to head to the house next door.
As she opened the front door to go outside—
“Hello, Dorothy.”
“Aaah!”
Bang!
Startled out of her wits, Dorothy slammed the front door shut.
Brandon had been standing right outside.
Her heart had nearly leapt out of her chest.
Clutching her chest, Dorothy steadied her breathing.
Still, she couldn’t leave someone waiting outside for long.
“H-hello, Duke.”
She calmly opened the door again.
“We meet again, don’t we? My apologies. I didn’t realize you were standing in front of the door.”
“Haha, it’s alright.”
Unlike his appearance at dawn, Brandon now looked completely at ease.
Thinking about it, this was his usual self.
His hair shone smoothly.
His face was perfectly composed, without a trace of fatigue.
And today, too, a faint pleasant fragrance drifted from him—
so much so that standing next to him made one want to sniff unconsciously.
“Here, take this, Dorothy.”
“Pardon?”
At that moment, Brandon handed her something.
It was a flowerpot.
“I heard the flowerpot on your second floor broke. What a shame. You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“No, fortunately I wasn’t hurt! And thank you so much for giving me a flowerpot as well!”
Then she tilted her head in confusion.
“But did I ever tell you that my flowerpot broke?”
“Of course not. But we’re neighbors, aren’t we? I was wondering about it when I noticed the flowerpot I saw every day had disappeared.”
Brandon replied kindly with a gentle smile.
“Ah, I see!”
His keen observation must be how he rose to the position of an executive officer of the council.
“By the way.”
Just as Dorothy nodded in agreement, he changed the subject.
“Thank you for the chocolate you gave me before, Dorothy.”
“Pardon? Oh…”
Dorothy felt slightly embarrassed.
“No, I’m sorry I only gave you one.”
It wasn’t something worth thanking her for.
She had simply been grateful that he followed her despite having cold symptoms—
and had slipped it into his coat while helping him along.
“That’s not true.”
But Brandon looked oddly pleased.
“Look.”
After rummaging through his inner pocket, he showed her the chocolate.
“I haven’t taken a single bite.”
“…Do you not like chocolate?”
“Hmm.”
Brandon paused for a moment, as if choosing his words.
“No, it was too precious to eat.”
“Ah.”
“Thank you for the gift, Dorothy.”
As he said this, Brandon looked strangely delighted.
* * *
On the way to the neighboring house together, Brandon brought up another topic.
“I’m also sorry for bringing up my mother the other day. I wanted to apologize for that too.”
“It’s alright! You’re helping me right now, Duke. You don’t need to apologize.”
“Didn’t it upset you? I brought up your late parents.”
“Not at all!”
She had only been curious about her mother’s unexpected past.
It hadn’t made her feel bad.
“Rather, I was grateful you mentioned her. It’s nice to recall memories with the mother I loved.”
All of Dorothy’s memories of her mother were positive.
In truth, there had been very little negativity in Dorothy’s life at all.
Her mother from the past had shaped who she was today.
Her strong mother had always protected her.
Now that she was an adult, she often found herself thinking about how much her mother must have struggled raising her.
But it seemed different for the Kaishner siblings.
“Really? I don’t particularly like talking about parents. They’re just people who happen to share our blood, after all.”
Did Rose also dislike talking about their parents?
Dorothy had spent much time with her but had never once heard her speak of the former duke and duchess.
“Well, and ‘love,’ you say? Hmm…”
Brandon shook his head playfully with a teasing smile.
Dorothy had only heard that they were divorced.
As a commoner, she couldn’t know how nobles lived.
The private lives of aristocrats were always shrouded in secrecy.
“I neither want to know nor talk about it.”
It was just as Dorothy entered the neighboring house with Brandon—
“Hey! Brandon!”
Rose, standing in the entrance hall, hurled something straight at Brandon’s face.
It was a garment made of gray velvet.
“Why did you bring this kind of thing into my house?”
“My, throwing clothes at someone’s face is rather rude.”
Even with the clothes thrown at him, Brandon wore a beautiful smile.
“This is the official robe the chairman gifted you.”
However, the words coming out of his mouth were far from gentle.
“It’s something for my sister to wear at the council when she eventually decides to leave the house.”
“I told you I’m not going back!”
Rose grew even more furious.
“And why would you bring something that man gave you into my house?”
“I told you—it’s a gift.”
“Does that look like a gift to you? No matter how you see it, it’s a threat!”
Rose shouted.
“He’s telling me to come back out there no matter what!”
The chairman of the Gorsaout Council, Grand Duke Tabelon.
Even a commoner like Dorothy knew who he was.
Rose seemed to harbor immense resentment toward this chairman.
“It’s true that the chairman is waiting for you, sister.”
No matter how she looked at it, this wasn’t a conversation Dorothy should interfere in.
It wasn’t polite to meddle in another family’s affairs.
“I’ll step aside for a momen—”
As she tried to withdraw tactfully—
“There’s no need to leave, Dorothy. It’s not worth hearing anyway.”
Brandon stopped her with a smile.
And so, unwillingly, Dorothy ended up caught in someone else’s family matters.
“Not worth hearing?!”
“It’s just another boring conversation where you’ll rant about the chairman.”
“What? Boring?”
She had felt it before—
but how should she describe their conversations?
They always started with anger.
“You seriously consider that chairman your father?”
“It doesn’t particularly matter. What’s important is that he takes care of us.”
They were clearly family.
And yet, even though they cared deeply for each other,
they seemed unable to express it properly.
“And you call that ‘taking care’? That’s raising livestock.”
No. Don’t interfere.
With her ears ringing from their argument, Dorothy resolved to stay out of it.
“What’s the difference between taking care of someone and raising livestock?”
“I’m saying the person you rely on has nothing reliable about him!”
Was this a conversation or a fight?
Why were the very people who would rush forward first if something happened to the other trying to tear each other down?
“Then who should we rely on? Haha, surely you don’t mean you, sister?”
Their exchange was less like adults talking and more like stubborn children arguing over pride.
What was this? These were the most basic things.
Had no one ever taught them?
Why did they know nothing?
“What did you say just now?”
“Shall I repeat it for you?”
Whatever past these two had wasn’t what mattered right now.
This kind of conversation was clearly wrong.
In the end, Dorothy—
“Excuse me, you two.”
—finally spoke up between them.
