An Old Grudge

“Maeve. Have you ever once gone wrong by listening to me? Trust me a little.”

“I have always trusted you, my lord. Truly.”

“Then listen to me this time as well. Do not get involved with the Cardenas ducal house.”

The woman watched the scenery racing past the carriage window for a moment before she spoke.

“My lord, this is the second time. You keep swearing it. Don’t get involved. You’re certain that if I go to the ducal residence, I’ll be miserable.”

The Count was not a man who often spoke in such absolute terms. The Count she knew was the sort who not only tapped the stepping stones twice but checked them until they were nearly smashed before he ever built a bridge.

“Why? Why are you so certain?”

The Count glanced at the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh. Arms still folded, he looked at Maeve and spoke slowly.

“Haven’t you heard the social-circle rumors about Young Master Cardenas? A spoiled brat with neither the will nor the desire to learn. A problem child who only causes accidents. On top of that, the story going around is that five tutors have already come and gone in that short span of time.”

“……”

“I think highly of you. That’s why I mean to recommend you as the Crown Prince’s tutor. There’s no need to walk into the ducal house and risk ruining your record.”

When the Count finished, Maeve could no longer hold back her laughter. She bowed her head deeply. Even with a hand pressed over her mouth, the fine trembling of her shoulders gave her away.

“Are you laughing right now?”

“Ah. Forgive me. It’s the first time I’ve seen you lie so brazenly, my lord.”

The Count narrowed his eyes at her, the look of a man who could not understand why she was laughing.

“You always say it yourself, my lord.”

At last she mastered her voice and continued in earnest.

“Never be certain of information you haven’t verified yourself, and never make decisions based on it.”

The Count furrowed his brow and propped his head on his left hand. He pressed his fingers into his temple and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Just now you were certain that going to the ducal residence would make me unhappy. So I thought you must know something.”

She folded her hands neatly in her lap and smiled.

“Yet now you’re trying to persuade me with scandals circulating in society and an unverified story about tutors. This isn’t confirmed information, and it certainly isn’t anything you’ve seen with your own eyes. It’s nothing but rumor.”

The Count slowly opened his eyes and sighed. He fell silent for a long while, thinking.

“Doesn’t something strike you as odd when you think about it, my lord?”

“This is awkward. That quality of yours is both your strength and your flaw. Couldn’t you have let an old man off the hook just once?”

Rupert turned his face to the window as if he wanted no part of this. Why are you doing this in a carriage we’re all riding together… He fidgeted as though he would rather get out.

Maeve ignored him and fixed the Count with a sharp gaze.

“You know something about the ducal house. What exactly are you trying to hide?”

“……It’s nothing more than an old grudge. At least for now, that’s all it is.”

Maeve frowned. An old grudge? For something like that, the Duke and the Count had never once clashed in her previous life. Had the prison been too dark for her to notice the Count? That was not impossible, but it felt far too forced.

“If that’s all it is, then please tell me what you know.”

“My words have only clouded your eyes. Forget it.”

“My lord!”

“That’s enough. I’ll write the letter of recommendation.”

Maeve grew urgent. She was just beginning to regret not approaching the matter more obliquely when the Count spoke again.

“……If anything happens, be sure to contact me.”

Before she knew it the carriage had arrived at the Count’s townhouse. The door opened; the Count stepped down and spoke from beside her.

“Whatever happens inside that house, I’ll be on your side.”

The Count alighted, and Rupert—wearing the expression of a man finally escaping—followed after him. When Maeve moved to get down as well, the Count stopped her.

“Go straight home today. I’ll send the recommendation to your address.”

“……Pardon?”

Maeve sat back down awkwardly, and the carriage started off again. Whether he was offended or simply trying to conceal something he did not want discovered, she could not tell. The entire ride home she watched the scenery outside the window with a lingering unease.

The moment she reached home, Maeve sent a letter to the ducal house. She enclosed her application for the tutor’s post, her résumé, and a list of the documents she would submit at the interview—her Imperial Academy valedictorian certificate, the letter of recommendation, and the rest. A reply arrived three days later.

Maeve prepared her documents and went to sleep. At last, the first step.

The Cardenas townhouse stood a little removed from the heart of the capital.

Maeve spent some time taking in the quiet, refined atmosphere of the mansion. The Duke was said to spend most of his time in his territory, so the townhouse would only be used for brief visits to the capital—yet its scale was still impressive.

Waiting for her at the entrance were one butler, four maids, and a woman with a gentle expression. Judging by the difference in her dress from the others, she was very likely the Young Duke’s wet nurse. The only person currently living in the townhouse would be the Young Duke himself, who had come up to the capital to attend the Academy.

Maeve thought of the mansion’s size and the prestige of the ducal house. Could six people manage a place like this? She set the question aside for the moment and followed the butler into the drawing room.

“It is a truly beautiful residence.”

“Thank you for the kind words. It is said the previous Duke built it for someone he loved, so a great deal of care went into every detail.”

The butler answered in a measured voice, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“His Grace has not yet arrived, so please make yourself comfortable while you wait.”

“I appreciate the consideration.”

The butler bowed once and left the drawing room. Maeve sipped the tea and nibbled the cookies set before her while she considered how to persuade the Duke. Why had they suddenly stopped looking for a tutor? She had to make sure they hired her somehow.

Even after her thoughts ran dry, even after the refreshments were gone, even after the sunset beyond the window, the Duke did not arrive. Maeve swallowed a sigh and took out the pocket watch she had kept in her pocket. Five hours already. What kind of hospitality was this?

A maid who brought more refreshments hovered restlessly, watching Maeve’s face.

“Shall I bring more tea?”

“No, thank you. Would you call the butler for a moment?”

This was an interview arranged by formal letter. If they had known the Duke would be this late, they ought to have apologized early and sent the guest home; even if not, someone else should have come out to receive her. Maeve hid her irritation and swallowed another sigh.

The butler came rushing in and bowed over and over, looking genuinely at a loss for what to do.

“I—I am so sorry. Due to our error, we gave you the wrong date for His Grace’s arrival at the townhouse. We were told by the Young Duke that His Grace would certainly come today, and we relayed it without question……”

The butler trailed off, hesitating as if he did not know how to explain.

“……It seems it was a prank of the Young Duke’s. I do not know how we can compensate you for the time you have wasted……”

A prank of the Young Duke’s. Maeve tilted her head as though she had just heard something interesting. Quite a fascinating excuse. She smiled at the butler.

“It’s all right. Everyone makes mistakes. Then might I at least meet the Young Duke for a moment?”

“Th-the Young Duke?”

The butler looked flustered and glanced at the woman standing beside him. The woman, who appeared to be of a certain age, stepped forward and spoke.

“If it concerns the Young Duke, please speak to me instead.”

Maeve turned her gaze toward the voice. A woman with a pleasant face and a carefully painted smile was looking at her with warm eyes.

“Forgive the late introduction. I am Hilda Greta, the Young Duke’s wet nurse.”

“Ah, so you are his nurse.”

Maeve carefully set her teacup on its saucer and returned the greeting.

“I appreciate the consideration, but if the Young Duke is here, I don’t see why I must convey anything through his nurse.”

Pity rose within the older woman’s soft smile. The corners of her eyes drooped slightly; her gaze dropped to the floor, and she continued in a voice that sounded deliberately distressed.

“The truth is, the young master is a little afraid of outsiders. Given the rumors circulating outside……”

The wet nurse trailed off, hesitating as if the matter were difficult.

“As you know, they are not the sort of things a child should hear. The young master has been deeply hurt.”

“Ah, how unfortunate……”

Maeve murmured in sympathy while carefully watching the wet nurse, who continued without the slightest tremor. The woman looked as though she truly grieved for the child. Her expression said the boy’s wounds pained her.

“Then would you know how the Young Duke is faring at the Academy? What I am about to say is rather personal.”

“Oh! Of course. I have attended him ever since he came to the ducal residence, and he confides in me so completely that the moment he returns from the Academy he tells me every little detail of his day.”

The wet nurse’s face lit up as she thought of the child, looking as though she could not love him more.

“……Then I can speak with peace of mind.”

“Yes! I will convey anything faithfully.”

Maeve smiled softly and began.

“On my way here, Young Master Joshua Steil mentioned that he wished to invite the Young Duke—who is now in the same class—to a party. The party is so soon that there is no time to exchange letters, so he asked me to at least sound out the Young Duke’s intentions.”

“My goodness! Young Master Joshua! I remember him! The young master said that meeting peers at the Academy for the first time was such a joy. He was especially fond of Young Master Joshua!”

The wet nurse even clapped her hands as she chimed in. The smile on Maeve’s face deepened as she watched.

“But what are we to do……? Peers are one thing, but a party will include other nobles as well, and the young master does not much care for going out, so I am afraid we will have to decline the invitation……”

Looking regretful, the wet nurse seized Maeve’s hands with an air of apology.

“Still, I will do my utmost to persuade him!”

“……I would be grateful if you would.”

Maeve smoothly withdrew the hand the woman had grasped and rose. She gathered the coat and documents she had brought and walked toward the door. Standing at the entrance, she looked back at the servants who had gathered to see her off.

“Ah, I seem to have misspoken earlier in my confusion.”

“Pardon?”

Puzzled looks rose on the servants’ faces.

“Young Master Joshua Steil is not a peer in the Young Duke’s class; he is an upperclassman at the Academy. There is quite an age difference—I made a slip of the tongue.”

The wet nurse’s and the butler’s faces stiffened.

“He said he wished to invite him to the party in order to apologize for ‘the unfortunate incident last time.’ How fortunate that they are on such good terms.”

The wet nurse’s mouth opened and closed as though she could not decide how to answer. Maeve turned away again, opened the front door, offered a brief, smiling bow, and stepped outside.

“When His Grace arrives at the townhouse, please contact me again. I will be waiting.”

Maeve wiped the expression from her face as she came out. Crossing the well-paved street away from the townhouse, she thought. Her head ached from deciding where to even begin pointing out the problems.

……This household is a complete mess.