Chapter 12…
“Hmm?”
Even at Marie’s sudden question, Clarisse’s face remained completely serene.
Marie’s lips automatically pouted. A strange chill ran down her side for no reason.
“About Aryan.”
“Oh, well…”
Marie thought that Clarisse didn’t really care for her little fiancé.
But recently, all of Clarisse’s actions seemed to revolve solely around him.
Marie wondered if this was the so-called “adolescence” her mistress had mentioned, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a little hurt.
“No matter how self-centered she is, she always shared her schemes with me first!”
No matter what anyone said, she was Marie—the oldest and closest personal maid to Clarisse von Lisette.
“But still! Throwing the box at him was too much. Don’t you know how scared I was?”
“You looked pretty excited while throwing it, though.”
“That—th-that’s because you told me to, Clarisse!”
Even as Marie grumbled, a faint smile lingered on Clarisse’s lips.
Could that be why Marie had dared to do something she usually wouldn’t?
“Anyway! I don’t think indiscriminate jealousy is good…”
As Marie’s sentence tried to form, Clarisse’s face noticeably stiffened. A cold air settled in the carriage as if frost had formed.
Marie was not perceptive, but when it came to matters involving her own life, she acted quickly.
She bowed her head deeply and confessed to a crime she hadn’t even committed.
“…I’m sorry.”
“Jealous?”
Clarisse’s golden eyes flashed.
“Uh, I-I mean…”
At that sharp gaze, Marie curled herself up and hugged her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for a scolding.
But even after a long while, no sound came.
Only then did Marie cautiously peek and look at Clarisse.
Clarisse was still sitting in her seat, resting her chin on her hand, gazing out at the scenery.
Why wasn’t she angry?
As Marie’s mind whirled, thinking this must be some new form of punishment, Clarisse finally exhaled a long sigh and spoke.
“Marie, are you stupid?”
“Huh? W-what?”
Suddenly doubting her own intelligence, Marie stammered.
The bigger problem was that she still didn’t know what mistake she had made.
While Marie seriously questioned her own brain, Clarisse continued.
“Do you really think I caused this mess because I was jealous of a box?”
“N-no…?”
Marie blurted out her thoughts again, without processing them in her brain.
Clarisse’s face twisted strangely for a moment, then softened into a gentle, radiant expression.
“Marie, how much severance pay do you need?”
“Eek! I’m sorry!”
Marie’s eyes moistened. Her trembling fingers clutched at Clarisse’s sleeve.
Clarisse coldly brushed Marie’s hand away.
“Enough.”
“Clarisse!”
Marie’s voice stretched long and desperate, making Clarisse slightly raise an eyebrow.
She couldn’t send Marie away, not even out of unease.
Clarisse’s red lips twisted in slight dissatisfaction. Her thinly folded eyes turned back toward the window.
“…Do you really think Aryan went into that box on his own? Seriously?”
“Huh?”
Sniffling, Marie lifted her round eyes from rubbing her cheek against Clarisse’s lap.
Clarisse’s pale face was beautifully tinted by the evening glow.
“That place… is where the monsters live.”
Clarisse whispered softly.
Marie couldn’t understand what she meant.
So she blinked slowly and listened carefully to Clarisse’s next words.
But it didn’t help much.
“Much more terrifying than you think.”
Those weren’t words meant to explain anything to someone else.
Marie patiently waited for Clarisse to finish speaking.
“So I told that monster something.”
By the last moment, the fiercely burning sun disappeared behind the ridge of the mountains.
Only Clarisse’s eyes cut through the darkness with their bright intensity.
“To show whose prey it really is that you’re thinking about.”
It had already been ten days since Clarisse began frequenting the Mathias household.
From the time dawn broke until the sun hid behind the horizon, what she did was very simple.
Simply…
“Aryan, when does your lesson end?”
She stuck close to Aryan, spending her time beside him.
Clarisse tapped her unreachable feet impatiently as if urging him on.
“Ah-hem!”
No, more precisely, it was a remark directed at Count Schupel, who was in charge of Aryan’s education.
Schupel smoothed the tip of his mustache and gently scolded Clarisse.
“Marchioness, the lesson has only just begun…”
“Oh, really?”
Clarisse tilted her head in innocent curiosity, her voice tinged with playfulness.
But only for a moment. Soon, the corners of her mouth twitched as she pouted.
“But…”
Her chocolate-colored hair, tied high, swayed rhythmically.
“We already covered the history of the Asgard Empire up to year 194 yesterday and the day before. Aryan already knows up to year 502.”
Right, Aryan?
At Clarisse’s delicate, birdlike voice, Aryan nodded blankly.
In his transparent blue eyes, Clarisse’s slightly stiff cheeks were reflected.
He couldn’t even imagine expressing his own opinion about the lesson’s pace, so he didn’t fully understand her question.
He just assumed she was in a bad mood today and anxiously watched her face.
“Ah.”
At that moment, their eyes met.
Clarisse, as if she had never hardened her expression, squinted one eye and smiled playfully.
Aryan didn’t understand what the expression meant, but a strange warmth ran through his entire body.
He quickly looked away, fanning his face lightly with his hand.
Seeing his gaze leave her, Clarisse turned her attention back to Schupel.
Schupel’s face had turned pale.
“Why? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Clarisse narrowed her eyes.
Though there were many things she disliked, she was astounded by Velisa’s shallow attempt to secretly manipulate even the heir’s lessons.
She restrained a small, crooked smile from escaping.
Then, like a naive marchioness, she clapped her hands together and fed Schupel a bit of candy right into his half-open mouth.
“Ah! You didn’t know that part, did you?”
“No…”
“Then Aryan can teach you!”
Schupel’s face turned red this time.
He cleared his throat and forced a smile, speaking in a teaching tone to Clarisse.
“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding, young lady. You… don’t know well yet, but learning is something that must be carefully cultivated step by step…”
“Ah, I see.”
Clarisse responded lightly, then flashed her golden eyes and continued.
“After all, Mr. Schupel is a distinguished scholar.”
“Haha, you seem to know quite a bit, young lady.”
“Yes!”
Their laughter rang together, light and cheerful.
Only Aryan watched cautiously, his expression uneasy.
As the laughter subsided, the brief warm atmosphere turned cold again.
Just as Schupel was about to resume the lesson, Clarisse whispered softly.
