Anastasia Lauderdale
At Elizabeth’s words, Anastasia’s body trembled. A little sister? And Anastasia Lauderdale, at that?
Elizabeth had never once acknowledged Anastasia as her sister. Nor had she ever attached the Lauderdale name to her.
When she first came to Edenhurst and saw Elizabeth, Anastasia had—shamefully—held a brief hope. The hope that such a beautiful person might call her little sister and cherish her. For the Elizabeth she first beheld was the very image of the princess Anastasia had always cradled in her fantasies.
But that fantasy shattered in mere minutes. When the Count brought Anastasia before Elizabeth and Catherine and told them to call her Anastasia Lauderdale from then on, Elizabeth had tilted her head as if she’d heard something truly strange and said,
“Lauderdale? That name, for a thing like that?”
Only much later did Anastasia learn that the white-furred puppy in Elizabeth’s arms had been graciously bestowed the Lauderdale surname. The name given to a dog, but never spoken for Anastasia. And yet why attach that name to her now?
An inexplicable dread made Anastasia’s body tremble. She could not look at Elizabeth, who wore a faint smile.
“Wait. Then the woman the Count adopted…”
Ilya, who had been listening to Elizabeth, was even more shocked than Anastasia.
Thinking about it, it was something he could have deduced without difficulty. The hunting grounds of Edenhurst, now forbidden to outsiders. A woman roaming inside them in fine clothes as if it were her own home.
He should have naturally thought her a person of Edenhurst, yet why had he been so stupid as not to think of it at all?
Ilya cursed himself for having been so entranced, and desperately tried to recall the information he had heard about the Lauderdale family’s adoptive daughter.
Many people did not even know of the Lauderdale adoptive daughter’s existence. Neither the Count nor the Countess had ever so much as mentioned the newly taken adoptive daughter in the capital’s social circles.
The Countess, they said, disliked her, but even the Count, who had taken her in despite opposing his wife, had never spoken of her to anyone. Thus Ilya had first heard of the adoptive daughter’s existence from Catherine.
“She looks disgusting. With that vulgar red hair, all gloomy, doesn’t even know letters or numbers and can’t speak properly. Ah, it’s so embarrassing. Her name? Anastasia, they say. The most common name among my maids. Father picked her up from some countryside… truly disgusting.”
Catherine had poured out her complaints about Anastasia to Ilya, who had visited with his parents in the past, as if she had finally found someone to grumble to. In truth, Ilya himself had not felt kindly toward Anastasia then. The Countess, who always welcomed his family with a smile, had not come out, saying she was unwell, and Elizabeth, always like the queen of Edenhurst, never once set foot in the direction where that adoptive daughter stayed.
Naturally, during Ilya’s stay at Edenhurst, he never once saw that adoptive daughter. No—more than not seeing her, without Catherine’s grumbling he would not even have sensed such a person existed in Edenhurst. For the Count and Countess, and even the servants, behaved as if no such person existed. And yet…
Ilya looked at Anastasia, who stood with her head bowed deeply before Elizabeth. The lively appearance from moments ago had vanished, and there stood a sinner. He could not understand why Anastasia was acting this way toward Elizabeth.
“I should be going…”
Anastasia muttered in a voice almost inaudible, then turned and vanished as if fleeing.
“Anastasia!”
Ilya called after her, but Anastasia disappeared around the corner of the mansion without once looking back.
“……”
Ilya’s hand waved futilely through the empty air where there was no one to grasp. Behind him, Elizabeth merely watched the scene quietly. Then, when he turned back, she smiled and said,
“In any case, it’s good to meet again like this, Ilya. Please understand that I couldn’t reply to your letters. Circumstances weren’t favorable.”
At Elizabeth’s words, Ilya shook his head as if it were nothing.
“Of course. I was merely worried.”
At Ilya’s words, Elizabeth’s smile deepened.
Worried?
Elizabeth felt her insides twist at Ilya’s words. To receive concern from someone who had fallen to a class that couldn’t even receive a title and had to work with his own hands to eat. It was humiliating. Elizabeth’s eyes swept the place where Anastasia had disappeared. Ilya’s gaze was directed there again as well.
Elizabeth could tell that Ilya had already taken a deep liking to Anastasia.
Remarkable, really.
To make him wear such a vacant expression after only a few hours of meeting. Elizabeth clenched a small flower from the nearby shrub in her hand. The thin petals were crushed in her grip.
When Ilya, who had stared for a long time at the spot where Anastasia vanished, turned around, the flower that had been in full bloom moments ago lay on the ground in a form unrecognizable, but he did not notice.
Elizabeth said to him,
“Welcome, Ilya. I sincerely welcome you.”
For from now on, it seems you’ll have much to do.
The servants of the mansion received Ilya with polite deference. The staff who had always seemed a little clumsy compared to those in the capital now moved with brisk efficiency. Beginning with the butler and extending to the head maid, Ilya realized that every face he remembered had vanished.
The servants who took his luggage said they would place it in his room and disappeared; when he remained alone in the drawing room, the door opened and a familiar person entered.
“Catherine.”
“Ilya! It’s been a while.”
Catherine greeted him with what seemed genuine pleasure.
Ilya knew full well that he was not especially welcome at Edenhurst. There was no remaining friendship from their parents’ generation, and with neither title nor fortune he was little more than a temporary guest who would stay and then leave. When he had heard the news of Edenhurst and sent a letter offering whatever modest help he could give, there had been no reply, had there?
Yet Ilya did not resent the fact. Among nobles, such things were only natural.
“You must be tired from the journey. But dinner preparations are already finished, so how about eating and then resting?”
Catherine, without much consideration for his circumstances, sat on the sofa and gestured for him to take a seat. Ilya caught a glimpse of a hem of clothing passing the slightly open door.
“Miss Elizabeth?”
“My sister? She said she has something to check on for a moment and will come at dinner.”
He had thought the person at the entrance earlier might have been Elizabeth, but deciding it was probably his mistake, Ilya said nothing more.
“Have you been well in the meantime?”
“…Do I look like I’ve been well?”
Catherine’s voice was sharp, edged with resentment.
“…I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Catherine turned her head sharply as if already offended. He looked around the room. Everything in Edenhurst was managed to perfection—the garden and the exterior of the mansion, of course, but the servants and the interior as well.
So Ilya, knowing it would irritate Catherine, could not help asking.
“…It seems Mr. Mikhail Sokolov is quite fond of Edenhurst.”
Before coming, he had heard something of Edenhurst’s condition. That Mikhail was aiming for the Lauderdale countship and intended to marry Elizabeth. That he had taken over Edenhurst and settled the entire Lauderdale family’s debts in the process.
“Well. It’s only natural for the historic Edenhurst mansion. And this may be a rather impolite question, but… when is the marriage between Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Mikhail planned for? Ah, and if it’s all right… may I ask a little about Miss Anastasia as well?”
At his words, Catherine’s eyes sharpened. She had already heard from Elizabeth before coming to the room.
“Anastasia came with Ilya. With a face that looked thoroughly delighted.”
At Elizabeth’s words, Catherine had paused a moment, then tried to run straight for the annex. Of course Elizabeth had stopped her, so she could not do as she wished.
Unable to vent her anger, Catherine had no choice but to come to this room, seething. This was Catherine, who had been unable to say anything even before her mother—now completely despondent—or before Elizabeth.
And Sister isn’t here either.
If her sister had been present, she would never have opened her mouth so freely. But at the door Elizabeth had turned away, saying she had things to do. And after coming in, the moment Ilya raised Anastasia’s name, Catherine spoke sharply without realizing it.
“You want to ask about Anastasia?”
“Is there some problem…”
Startled by Catherine’s fierce aura, Ilya examined her. Strange. Elizabeth had affectionately called her little sister, yet Catherine did not seem to regard Anastasia as an older sister at all.
“There’s nothing wrong with it. You want to know about Anastasia?”
Catherine rapidly fanned herself with the fan Mikhail had newly gifted her and opened her mouth.
“What about that whore is so interesting to you?”
Chirp-chirp.
At the birdsong drifting through the open window, Anastasia opened her eyes. Rubbing them as she rose, she found a book in her hand. The book she had been unable to read in the chapel because she met Ilya. The travel records of the Central Plains and eastern Novgord also briefly mentioned the Academy.
“……”
Anastasia stroked the cover of the book, then rose from her seat.
There were so many things I was curious about.
Because he taught as a professor at the Academy, Ilya knew a great deal about it. Moreover, he had answered everything Anastasia asked with great kindness. But…
Anastasia recalled the moment Ilya learned who she was. That flustered voice. So now he would treat her like the people of the old Edenhurst.
“……”
Anastasia grew dejected and let her shoulders droop. Mikhail was not yet married, and he and Elizabeth were not exactly engaged, so their relationship could fairly be called that of lovers. Yet why did the word mistress refuse to leave her mind?
Then Anastasia remembered Elizabeth’s words. That soft voice calling her Anastasia Lauderdale.
“Why did she call me that?”
She could not understand why Elizabeth had addressed her so familiarly.
Anastasia, who had remained still for a long while, turned and looked at the empty space beside her. Mikhail had said he could finish and return in about a night. Then he would be back this evening.
Thinking she might wait for Mikhail in the room, Anastasia looked up at the clear sky once more. In the end she asked Natasha to help her dress and left the annex. Just as she was about to leave the garden and enter the forest—
“Anastasia!”
Anastasia turned at the voice calling her. There stood Ilya, whom she had met the day before, looking at her with a smiling face.
“Then let’s end it here for today.”
The man opposite Mikhail gathered the documents while watching Mikhail’s expression. Strangely, Mikhail seemed to be in quite a hurry today.
Seeing this unfamiliar side of him, the man assumed Mikhail had another busy schedule afterward, offered a suitable farewell, and withdrew. Mikhail would surely draw even greater wealth through the Central Plains railway. There was no need to bother him now and leave a bad impression.
When the man he had been dealing with disappeared, Mikhail let out a short sigh and raised his head. Beyond the hotel, quite luxurious-looking shops lined the street. One of the items in those shops kept catching his eye.
“Yury, how much time until the next appointment?”
“The next appointment? About thirty minutes left, I believe.”
Hearing the time, Mikhail rose from his seat.
“There’s something I need to buy quickly, so I’ll be back.”