Chapter 21…
Clarissa forced strength into each step as she swallowed down the anxiety that crept up on her too late.
Damn it, I’ve only wasted time. Today of all days, I have to find out what Aryan is hiding.
“Marie, the carriage?”
Clarissa called out to Marie in a raised voice.
Marie came running from somewhere and answered her call.
“I had it prepared in advance.”
“Good.”
Today’s affairs hadn’t gone badly.
With a noticeably lighter heart, Clarissa continued on her way.
She had been delayed a little more than usual, but it wasn’t too late to head to the Matthias estate.
Clarissa had no intention of stopping ever again.
“…So, have you heard that story?”
“Ah, the somewhat lacking eldest son of Count Matthias’s family?”
She would have missed it—if not for the faint voices drifting in.
Clarissa slowly turned her head.
Her cold-set eyes landed on a group of maids, each wearing an apron.
Her lips moved, drawing a red line.
“Marie, what are those.”
Marie’s head turned in the same direction Clarissa was looking.
The differently colored aprons were not the kind used in the Marquess of Lisette’s household.
Nor did Marie recognize their faces.
She faithfully relayed her conclusion to her mistress.
“Um… they don’t seem to be ours. They’re probably attendants brought by other ladies today?”
No sooner had Marie finished speaking than the very voice Clarissa had first heard spilled from their mouths again.
“Yeah, that one with only a pretty face.”
“Didn’t they say he was engaged to the young lady of this house?”
Clarissa didn’t need anyone to tell her who the “pretty-faced” eldest son of the Matthias family was.
Sensing the situation, Marie trembled violently and glanced at Clarissa.
“I heard that fell through already.”
“Oh, really?”
“You didn’t know? That story’s been around for ages.”
“What? Why?”
Marie clasped her hands together and prayed—
that they wouldn’t cross the line any further.
But her earnest prayer was in vain.
A freckled, brown-haired woman puckered her lips and spoke up.
“Why do you think? Just look at that young master. Sure, he’s good-looking, but he’s already thirteen. His build is nothing to speak of, and he barely talks—like he’s mute. Obviously there’s something wrong with him. And the Matthias family isn’t exactly insignificant. Do you really think they’d send a perfectly fine legitimate heir to become a marquess’s live-in son-in-law?”
“Well, true.”
At the nonstop stream of voices, Marie had to fight the urge to faint on the spot.
“Besides, there are plenty of rumors about this house’s young lady having a nasty personality, but still, the other side should at least qualify as a person. Do you think the high-nosed Marquess of Lisette would ever accept a defective kid like that?”
They had crossed the line—by far.
Clarissa no longer stood there quietly listening.
“C-Clarissa… ma’am?”
Leaving Marie’s trembling voice behind, Clarissa stepped toward those whose mouths had grown wings.
They kept bursting into laughter, unaware that Clarissa was already right beside them.
As the distance closed, so did Clarissa’s patience.
“How interesting. Would you mind telling me that story in more detail too?”
The voice that spilled from her twisted smile cut sharply through the air.
Silence fell in an instant.
Everyone held their breath and turned their heads toward the source of the voice.
“Who—”
“Hey!”
A maid in a wheat-colored apron urgently clapped a hand over the brown-haired maid’s mouth.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The brown-haired maid, apparently gifted with nothing but a loose tongue, kept asking stupid questions despite her companion’s stiff panic.
Clarissa’s eyes shone like the sun.
She didn’t mind idiots. They were easy to wield.
“It’s nothing. More importantly, go on. You know how the most infuriating thing in the world is stopping mid-story.”
Burying her surging rage deep inside, Clarissa urged the brown-haired maid on as if nothing were wrong.
“Oh, I’m Marie—Delphi, I mean! A maid of Countess Aronde-whatever!”
Having suddenly become a maid of “Countess Aronde-whatever,” Clarissa raised her index finger to her lips toward the maid in the wheat-colored apron, whose face looked on the verge of collapse.
The brown-haired maid—lacking both tact and brains—had no idea what sort of tacit agreement had just passed and casually opened her mouth again.
“Aronde-whatever? Never heard of it… By the way, are you really a maid…?”
It seemed she was finally taking in Clarissa’s appearance.
A soft, bluish-purple silk dress and a diamond necklace around her neck.
No matter how one looked at it, she hardly resembled a mere maid.
The wheat-aproned maid finally let out a breath and nodded vigorously.
But before suspicion could deepen, Clarissa added brightly,
“Oh, this? It’s just a hobby of our Countess Aronde-whatever. She says dressing even a simple maid like this is a good way to show off her wealth or something.”
“…Well, there are nobles with strange hobbies like that sometimes. Still, I’m jealous. Getting to wear clothes that look so expensive.”
“Jealous? So then, who are you and where are you from?”
Clarissa slipped neatly through the gap left by their crumbling guard.
“I’m Delphi, from the Roel family. And over there is Kara, from the Beryl family.”
“Delphi. Kara.”
Clarissa’s red lips curved coldly.
Kara shot a resentful glare at Delphi for selling out her name as well, but Delphi still had no idea what she’d done wrong.
“Nice names.”
They said praise could make even a whale dance.
With a face as clear as the sky, Clarissa flattered Delphi.
A faint satisfaction settled on Delphi’s lips.
Swallowing a cold laugh, Clarissa spoke again.
“Well, introductions aside—why don’t you tell me more about that story from earlier?”
With Clarissa openly setting the stage, Delphi chattered on with even greater enthusiasm.
Time and again, Clarissa fought the urge to let her expression crumple, instead coaxing Delphi along with just the right amount of praise and responses.
Watching this, Kara couldn’t even run away and could only dart her eyes around, while Marie—who had abruptly lost her own name—couldn’t hide her shock at her mistress’s ruthlessness.
“Delphi, you really know everything, don’t you?”
“Do I? Or are you just slow on the news compared to everyone else?”
At Clarissa’s praise, Delphi snorted, her proudly raised nose twitching—
utterly unaware of the trap hidden beneath the compliment.
At Delphi’s words, which bordered on reproach, Clarissa tilted her head diagonally like the most pitiful girl in the world and continued in a wistful gaze.
“I’ve only just started working as a maid… I didn’t have any friends to talk about things like this with.”
“Oh my.”
The freckled bridge of Delphi’s nose creased.
With a genuinely sympathetic exclamation, she looked at the pitiful little girl before her.
Clarissa smiled as though she might shatter at any moment and went on,
“So, how do you all come to know stories like this?”
Feigning hesitation, she revealed her determination to hear every last filthy detail with her own ears today.
Delphi’s face visibly stiffened.
Sensing something off, she still slowly opened her mouth.
If her lips were capable of stopping over some vague unease, she wouldn’t have caught Clarissa’s eye in the first place.
“Well, it’s not like I know everything every time. Um… about Young Master Aryan…”
“About him?”
Clarissa’s voice jumped slightly higher, pressing Delphi on as the sound filled the hushed air.
“One of my friends works for the Lavende family. Apparently, that family’s eldest son is very close with the marquess’s young lady here. So naturally, things like that end up reaching our ears.”
Ha. A twisted smile hooked onto Clarissa’s lips.
No sooner had Delphi finished than Clarissa’s golden eyes froze like ice, turning into those of a beast hunting its prey.
Grinding her teeth with a sound that seemed ready to chew them to pieces, Clarissa slowly lifted her chin.
“Well then.”
A bright smile had already returned to her face.
“That’s a fresh story indeed.”
