The Rose Garden's Courtesan

It was the only hat I had brought with me — a simple, timeless design in black, something that would even go with mourning clothes.

"Why?"

"It does not go with the dress."

I had always thought clothing only needed to look proper, but apparently that was not how things worked in Caliwood. There had to be a reason Marianne was being so firm about it, so I nodded.

Marianne whisked the hat away at once, but her expression remained peculiar. It seemed the dress I was wearing did not meet her standards either. But what could I do? I had no other choice.

When I left Dvorden, all I had packed were two day dresses comfortable enough for a long train journey, and a single set of mourning clothes. To Marianne, who had once served the Marchioness of Derian, it must have looked woefully inadequate. There was still nothing to be done about it.

Unable to improve the dress, Marianne poured her efforts into my hair instead. An elaborate style would have clashed with what I was wearing, so we settled on a neat updo. Her hands moved this way and that, then finished by putting a curl into the strands that had fallen naturally at my temples, leaving me with a look quite unlike my usual self. Even so, she did not look entirely satisfied.

Having done what we could, I left Daisy House, the Marchioness of Derian's private villa, and arrived at Count Heinrich's residence at the appointed hour.

Countess Heinrich's first words, after four years, were not a greeting.

"So you really were a young lady."

"It's been a long time, Countess Heinrich."

"If it hadn't been for the Marchioness of Derian's deer crest, I would have taken it for a prank. I never imagined House Dvorden would ask to see me again."

It was a reaction I couldn't quite understand.

Countess Heinrich was a distant relative of my mother's, and it was through that connection that she had volunteered, four years ago, to serve as Dorothy's chaperone. Until Dorothy married Viscount Cecilia, she had stayed at the Count's residence, and the Countess had looked after her like an aunt, or so I had been told. I had assumed they had remained on good terms. So where was this hostility coming from?

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to pay my respects until now, my lady. I hope you've been well?"

"Spare me the pleasantries. Why did you ask to see me?"

I tried to speak warmly, but Countess Heinrich's manner remained ice-cold. I had no choice but to come to the point.

"I requested this meeting because I have questions about Dorothy."

Countess Heinrich didn't answer. She simply stared at me. Her eyes seemed to ask whether I could possibly be serious.

"If it's about that girl, I have nothing to say."

"Please don't say that, my lady. You were so fond of Dorothy."

"That's exactly it. I have no desire to talk about a girl who didn't even know the meaning of gratitude!"

Countess Heinrich finally lost her temper.

The second assessment of Dorothy I had heard since arriving in Caliwood: an ungrateful child.

It felt as though a bruise were spreading across my heart, but I pleaded with Countess Heinrich as if clinging to her.

"My lady, please tell me what happened to Dorothy these past four years. If she was rude to you, I will apologize in her place."

"Apology or not, I don't even want that girl's name in my mouth."

"I'm begging you, my lady. My only sister is dead, and I don't even know how she died. You're the only one I can ask. Please. I'm begging you."

"If that's all, why don't you just ask Viscount Cecilia?"

"...He won't even see me."

When I lowered my head and answered in a hollow voice, Countess Heinrich slammed her hand down on the arm of the sofa.

"That snake of a man — I knew it. That's why I tried so hard to stop her!"

She struck the armrest several more times in fury, then changed her tone and asked,

"The Viscount won't even see you? Then you really didn't know a thing?"

"I thought she was doing well. That was all I knew."

"You dense, hopeless—! Your name was Teresa, wasn't it?"

"It's Teredoa, my lady."

"Right. Teredoa. How can an older sister know nothing about her own sibling?"

Under Countess Heinrich's scolding, I could only bow my head even lower. If they called me a heartless sister, I had no defense. Because it was true. I had known nothing at all.

Countess Heinrich let out one heavy sigh after another, then began to unspool the story of the past four years as if she were coughing up a grievance.

"I was looking for a suitable match for Dorothy. Would it have killed her to listen to me? She fell for that snake of a man hook, line, and sinker and wouldn't hear a word I said. That girl always did have a vain streak, didn't she? Thought her pretty face was worth something. The moment he started buying her dresses and jewels and pressing them into her arms, she was simply delighted..."

The words were laced with accusations that were hard to hear, but I listened in silence.

Four years ago, at a ball, Viscount Cecilia had met Dorothy and courted her with passionate intensity. Despite Countess Heinrich's objections, Dorothy had fallen for him — and had even run away, staying at the Cecilia viscountcy before they were even married.

That much, I had more or less already known.

The problem was what came after.

"The reason Viscount Cecilia picked Dorothy was obvious from the start. He needed a pretty, naive little thing who didn't know the first thing about the world. A tribute to offer up for his own advancement."

"A... tribute...?"

"Ahem. This may be unpleasant for you to hear, but it's an open secret in Caliwood. The crowd Viscount Cecilia runs with is notorious for being a bad lot. He passed her around here and there — no. That is, he used her to cultivate all sorts of... connections, and eventually she caught the eye of someone quite high up, or so I heard."

I could see it myself — my own hands, clenched in my skirts, trembling. Countess Heinrich must have seen them too, because she changed her wording midway through. But no matter how she dressed it, the substance remained hideous.

"That's how Viscount Cecilia went around with his chest puffed out for a while, you know? Drunk on power he'd bought by selling his own wife — it was insufferable. But what good did it do him? Men like that don't keep just one or two girls like Dorothy around. In the end... another... the Viscount..."

Countess Heinrich's voice blurred, like a steam whistle sounding from far away.

My mind wouldn't turn. I had lost all feeling in my hands some time ago.

I groped through the fog in my head and fitted the pieces together. This was the conclusion:

Nausea surged up my throat.

"Teresa? Hey — are you all right?"

"Yes, my lady."

"No wonder you're shocked. Hearing this for the first time — of course you'd be stunned. I was beside myself when I heard what had become of her. I wanted to say only kind things, for old times' sake, but facts are facts. And besides, when that girl was at the height of her pride, do you know how cold she was to us? I begged her to put in a word about our Count with that gentleman, and she refused me flat. I was so—"

"Hm?"

"The high-ranking man Dorothy was seeing. Who was he?"

I asked as if coughing up blood. I swallowed the nausea, held my breath, even held back the spinning of my thoughts, and asked.

"Oh? Well, that's..."

Countess Heinrich, who had been chattering away with such relish, trailed off in sudden confusion. She glanced at me — at my unfocused eyes fixed on the teacup on the table — then looked away as she answered.

"I don't know that. How would I know a thing like that?"

"You said you asked her to put in a word with him. You must have known who he was, to make a request like that."

"Goodness! No, that's not— I only mentioned it in passing. Anyway, I don't know anything about that. And I don't want to know!"

"Countess Heinrich."

"I truly don't know, I tell you. But Teresa — how do you know the Marchioness of Derian?"

"My lady."

"If you're borrowing her crest, you must be quite close, yes? Are you?"

"My lady!"

"Well, I never. Who do you think you're raising your voice at?"

I could actually taste blood in my throat. Something was about to come up. I bit down on my lower lip and held it in — and Countess Heinrich rapped the armrest again.

"Enough. That's enough! Elder sister or younger, you're all the same. I've said what I have to say, so go. Don't come back. Do you understand? And I'd rather you didn't go around saying you heard about that precious sister of yours from me."

Countess Heinrich rose from her seat, leaving me where I sat, unable to move. Muttering something that was almost certainly a curse, she walked straight out of the drawing room.

I needed to ask who he was. I had neither the strength nor the presence of mind to stop her. I couldn't even stand.

I swayed there for a long time like a mote of dust suspended in the air, and only managed to get to my feet when the butler of House Heinrich threatened to call someone to drag me out.

I moved my legs one step at a time, heavy as if stones had been tied to them, and climbed into the carriage. I had lost all sense of where I was supposed to go. The carriage, without a single error, carried me back to Daisy House.