Marshall and Volan
Marshall Alhemits had been one of Leona's closest friends. Seated beside her was Countess Volan Palmania, who had been much the same.
Leona, Marshall, and Volan. That particular trio had been enough to make the former Esika's blood run cold.
The ill-fated acquaintance had begun at Leona's first birthday celebration after Esika's marriage, when the three of them had subjected her to a humiliation she would never forget.
"You brought a blue pearl as a gift? Do you even know what that means?"
"I-in Prihatz, blue pearls are a symbol of beauty and longevity..."
"Now I understand why the Duchess Dowager of Klaus is so heartbroken. Her daughter-in-law is going to need quite an education."
In the capital, Torres, a blue pearl meant jealousy.
Leona had briefly hired Marshall and Volan to "educate" Esika. They called it education. It was nothing short of abuse.
"It's so cold... please, let me go inside...!"
"Oh my. You can't even walk properly as a duchess, and you want to go inside?"
Marshall, claiming she was drilling Esika in the correct posture, would wrap herself in a thick fur coat and then send Esika out to practice walking for hours in little more than a nightgown.
"I'm hungry. Just a little more, please..."
"Maintaining one's figure is a basic accomplishment of any noble lady. I suppose they never taught you that at House Brigate — practically commoners, as they are."
Volan, whose own waist was twice Esika's, kept her surviving meal after meal on a scrap of bread no larger than a thumb.
It was obvious enough who their cruelty originated from.
Leona Klaus, the Duchess Dowager.
In the early days of her marriage, Esika endured their torment until she lost even the will to resist. If she failed to do as they instructed, harsh corporal punishment followed. To stay alive, she had to obey.
"Now you're looking a little more presentable."
Marshall and Volan had cackled those words at the final lesson.
"Still not worthy of Klaus, though. Hohohoho!"
Esika's once-lively cheeks had grown rough, and dark shadows had settled beneath her eyes. Only when every trace of the young duchess who had arrived bursting with sweet dreams had been thoroughly erased did they consider her education complete.
Even afterward, the two women would occasionally visit the ducal estate to call on Leona. On any day Esika so much as glimpsed their shadows, she would retreat to her room and tremble.
"........."
That ashen face, turning tail and fleeing — that had been the last image of Esika Klaus.
But to Marshall's eyes, the Esika standing before her today looked like a different woman. A face of dignity and composure — and one that did not even bother to look away.
Volan, too, twitched an eyebrow at the sight of an Esika who had not shrunk into herself in the slightest.
"I've come in the Duchess Dowager's stead to congratulate Count Alhemits on receiving the Imperial Medal."
And a dry, utterly fearless voice.
What is this?
Marshall furrowed her brow slightly, turning the sense of unease over in her mind. She had heard Esika was coming in Leona's place and had rather been looking forward to seeing how terrified the woman would be.
And yet she was perfectly, infuriatingly fine.
"Where should I sit?"
At Esika's words, the ladies stirred and looked toward Lady Marshall. Flustered, Marshall pointed the maids toward an empty seat.
"Show the Duchess to her place."
Failing to offer a seat to a guest at a tea party was a grave discourtesy. The unexpected blow left Marshall bewildered, and that bewilderment curdled swiftly into rage.
Leona had always said Esika was only Kalian's temporary match. House Brigate was far too lowly to marry into Klaus, and Esika — unloved by Leona, and unloved even by Kalian himself — had seemed barely able to cling to her place in the family.
So tormenting some insignificant provincial noble girl who would eventually be driven from the ducal house, all to please Leona and, as a bonus, to work off a little stress, had not seemed like such a bad arrangement.
And now the likes of her dared to challenge Marshall?
Rage seethed in Marshall's gut.
So this is the caliber of women I used to cower before.
Meanwhile, Esika, now seated, let out a quiet scoff. The former Esika had been driven to thoughts of death every single day by women like these. They, too, were among those who would one day pay the price for their wickedness.
"Hello, Duchess."
As she sat and began to take tea, someone beside her offered a brief greeting. The woman had brown hair and brown eyes, and her dress looked modest beside those of the two countesses. But unlike the others — who were so busy reading the two ladies' moods that they treated Esika as if she were invisible — this one, whether from a lack of social awareness or not, was actually speaking to her.
"Ah... I'm Hellenia Merhin. Baron Merhin's wife."
When Esika merely looked at her, she finally realized her omission and introduced herself. Only after recalling the list Sella had compiled did Esika think that made a certain amount of sense. The Merhins were a local noble family from Sainan, an outlying region much like the port city of Prihatz.
"His Grace Duke Klaus is quite famous even in Sainan... it's truly an honor to meet his wife..."
She had come up to the capital recently to expand her cheese business, hadn't she. Of course she would know nothing of Torres nobility, or of the atmosphere in high society.
Someone must have jabbed Hellenia Merhin in the side, because she flinched. The woman seated next to her whispered something in her ear, and her face went deathly pale.
Seeing that, Esika no longer continued the conversation.
Afterward, a lively, congenial chatter flowed among the rest. Esika did not participate, and no one asked her anything. The only one still glancing her way was Hellenia — and even she could not quite bring herself to speak further.
But rather than being cowed by this blatant ostracism, Esika was cheerfully eating her refreshments, and that did not sit well with Volan.
"I have a question for the Duchess of Klaus."
So Volan addressed her. Esika, who had been absorbed in a cookie, lifted her gaze.
The moment their eyes met, Volan felt her heart drop.
Were her eyes always like that?
It was probably her imagination, but she felt like a mouse standing before a lion. There was not even hostility in them, and yet a pressure that defied description flowed from Esika's calm, steady gaze.
I'm just not feeling well today, that's all.
Volan forced herself to deny it and opened her mouth.
"I heard the Duchess Dowager intended to send a gift to House Alhemits through you, Duchess."
At those words, every lady present turned her attention to Esika. Volan expected Esika's face to flood with panic. The Esika she knew would start trembling at once. I... I've never heard anything of the sort, she would say, breaking into a cold sweat. Then Volan could press her — was the Duchess Dowager lying, then? — and force her to surrender.
But Esika merely let out a quiet laugh. A moment later, she spoke.
The words dumped ice water over the tea party. Everyone was too stunned to even open their mouths. Volan, too, doubted her own ears.
A moment later, as Volan bristled to retort, Esika cut her off with ease.
"The Duchess Dowager has been bedridden with a severe illness for three days. The Count received his medal the day before yesterday — do you truly believe she was in any condition to prepare a gift?"
Volan's pupils shook violently at Esika's sharp, piercing reply. Now every lady gathered there was looking at her.
"I was aware that Lady Palmania is close with Lady Alhemits, but to openly demand a gift from the ducal house under the pretext of His Majesty's medal..."
This was insubordination.
"I... I was merely repeating something I heard from the Duchess Dowager. A... a week ago, there was talk that Count Alhemits was likely to receive a medal, and from there..."
"Everything announced by the Imperial Household, including the conferment of Imperial Medals, is a matter of special confidentiality. Even a ducal house cannot know of it before the announcement — and even if they did, the principle is that they must not speak of it."
At Esika's words, Volan's hands began to tremble. Of course Leona would never have said such a thing. But Leona, who so thoroughly despised her daughter-in-law, was the sort of woman who would gladly accept any lie told for the purpose of tormenting Esika. Esika's "education" had been conducted in just that manner.
"Ah... no! That's not it!"
Volan shot to her feet, her complexion darkening as she waved her hands frantically. In trying to torment Esika, she had suddenly become someone who had insulted Leona and demanded a gift from the Klaus Estate in an act of insubordination.
Most of the ladies here were from families close to Alhemits or Palmania, but rumors spread quickly, and always with exaggeration. This would not do.
In the end, Volan apologized to Esika in a trembling voice.
"I apologize, Duchess. It seems I was mistaken."
Marshall's complexion had changed as well.
What on earth? Why has that stupid, pathetic Esika Klaus changed so much?