Aiden looked at Rosia with sad eyes. Rosia felt pity for his eyes as blue as the clear winter sky. And she found the people who spread such childish nonsense pathetic. Rey was just a six-year-old child. Rosia didn’t believe in such superstitions. Especially not bad ones.

“I’m glad you’re the one taking care of my brother. Most people run away saying they’ll quit after hearing this story. They pretend everything’s fine in front of me but suddenly disappear.”

Aiden said in his pleasant voice while refilling Rosia’s teacup.

“I hope you’ll stay at this mansion for a very long time.”

Rosia took his words as mere courtesy. And in reality, she needed to continue this job until she saved enough money. At least until her brothers returned. Rosia smiled at Aiden as she lifted her warm teacup. It was her own way of showing agreement.

After the short tea time ended, Aiden escorted Rosia back to Rey’s room. And before opening the door, he asked,

“How far is it to the Berthe mansion?”

“Not too far. About two hours by carriage.”

“You must be tired. Be careful on your way back since the days are still short.”

Aiden opened the door. Rosia thanked him and entered the room. The door closed quietly. Rey had already fallen asleep on the bed. They said the child needed a nap, and it must have been just that time. Rosia silently watched Rey’s sleeping face, straightened his disheveled blanket, and sat down in the chair.

Perhaps because it was so quiet all around, she suddenly remembered what happened at the banquet hall. The hot breath, the warmth on her hands, the pounding heart, the low voice calling her name.

Rosia Berthe.

Bang. Rosia unconsciously slammed the desk hard as she stood up. Rey sat up, opening his round eyes, startled by the sound. Rosia looked at the boy with an embarrassed face.

“S-sorry. You can keep sleeping.”

Rosia sat back down awkwardly and pretended to read any book she could find. Though midsummer was still far away, her whole body was already hot. Nigel’s actions were beyond common sense for her, who wasn’t even married yet. It was a shameful experience she could never reveal to anyone.

But why did it keep coming back to haunt her like this? Blood rushed to her face, making it burn. Rosia spent quite a while trying to cool down her face with both hands.

＊＊＊

As specified in the contract, Rosia only went to Count Hess’s mansion three days a week. If she had gone every day, Viscount Berthe would have quickly noticed something was amiss. Rosia had informed Betty beforehand and asked permission to use her name. It was to coordinate the story that she attended social gatherings at the Odor mansion three days a week. Though Betty seemed displeased that Rosia was putting social circles aside to work as a governess, she had no choice but to agree when her only friend asked for help.

Viscount Berthe seemed not to suspect much since he already knew well about Rosia and Betty’s relationship. Though it pained Rosia to tell several lies to her beloved father, she endured willingly since it was all for the family and their house.

On the other hand, Baron and Baroness Luther wished for Rosia to meet better people more often than those of House Odor. Someone who could help House Berthe, for example, like Grand Duke Gragford. They became even more excited as soon as they learned that Rosia had danced with Aiden Hess and stayed close to him at the Leblanc mansion. They were determined to marry their niece to a man with a high title and lots of money.

Rosia listened halfheartedly to their stories and just barely played along. She knew well they weren’t the type to back down even if she got angry or cried. The Baron and Baroness Luther became even crueler whenever Rosia showed weakness. Just as they had blamed her at Viscountess Berthe’s funeral.

Anyway, Rosia was having extremely busy days lately. Three days a week she made the four-hour round trip to Count Hess’s mansion, and for a day or two she responded to party invitations brought by Baron and Baroness Luther. On the remaining days, she selected books to read to Rey Hess or prepared activities to do together. A week had already passed like this.

“Miss, aren’t you tired?”

The nanny was very worried about Rosia. It was too demanding a schedule for her, who was already weak. Though she got check-ups from the doctor monthly, that alone wasn’t enough for peace of mind. If Rosia were to collapse or fall ill, the nanny would blame herself for turning a blind eye to all this. Though Rosia must have known this, she was particularly stubborn about it. The nanny found even this aspect of Rosia lovable, but she was also concerned. Her precious young lady who should have lived without ever knowing such hardship. The nanny fretted anxiously.

Today too, Rosia was selecting books to read with Count Hess’s son. Very carefully, choosing the least provocative ones possible. She calmly skimmed through the contents of a couple books while answering the nanny’s question.

“To be honest, I am a bit tired.”

“Then why don’t you rest for a few days? I’m really so worried about you, Miss.”

The nanny sat down close beside Rosia and sniffled as if she’d been waiting for this. Only then did Rosia put down her book and look at her.

“Don’t worry, nanny. Everyone lives a tiring life.”

“But Miss, you’re not strong. I’m afraid something bad might happen.”

“……I understand. I’ll go to bed earlier than yesterday.”

Rosia smiled gently as she pushed the book that had survived the final selection into her bag. The nanny protested that wasn’t what she meant, but Rosia pretended not to hear and changed the subject.

“Father?”

“The Viscount is away from the mansion again today. I believe he said he was visiting a distant relative……”

“It will take him several days then.”

The nanny heaved a deep sigh. This time it was out of concern for House Berthe rather than Rosia. Though it had become familiar enough not to need explanation, it still hurt every time. The nanny spoke grumpily,

“When will the young masters return? Getting involved in unnecessary business and reducing a perfectly fine house to this!”

“They said they’ll return before summer.”

“Really?”

“Yes, probably.”

Rosia replied calmly. That’s what was written in the letter that arrived yesterday. That they deeply missed the spring of Wetzel. That they would surely return before the rainy season began. Rosia had already noticed the lies hidden in those romantic and elaborate sentences. It would be fortunate if she didn’t forget her brothers’ faces. Rosia hid those bitter thoughts and held the nanny’s hand tightly while smiling kindly. Because of this, the nanny pretended to give in and brought up a different topic.

“How is the young master you’re teaching? He’s not a rascal, is he?”

“He’s still just a child.”

Rosia burst out laughing at the nanny’s crude expression. Rey Hess was very far from being a rascal.

“He’s very quiet. And quite composed.”

“That young child? Miss, you were quite the tomboy at that age. There was even that time you spilled paint all over the room and caused such a commotion.”

The nanny exclaimed with round eyes in surprise. Rosia blushed slightly and glared at her. Her sparse memories of childhood felt both nostalgic and unfamiliar at times like this. Rosia’s brothers, father, the nanny and butler, and all the other servants who had worked at this mansion this year all described Rosia from that time as a ‘tomboy’. While Rosia was curious about exactly what this past that only she couldn’t properly remember was like, one corner of her heart felt warm. It must mean those were good times. Rosia pouted slightly and muttered,

“I don’t remember any of it at all, nanny.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. You were adorable then and you’re adorable now.”

The nanny smiled contentedly as she answered perfunctorily. Rosia stared at her blankly before breaking into a smile too. It was enough if her past could be good memories for someone else. Especially if those someones were her beloved family.

But that didn’t mean she could be generous to everyone. Especially not to Nigel Gragford. Of all times, places, and people to meet. Rosia unconsciously bit her lip. The events at the banquet hall came flooding back naturally again. Her gaze dropped downward. Though she wanted nothing more than to leave this place immediately if possible, it was absolutely impossible in the current situation.

Meanwhile, Nigel appeared completely unbothered. He just stared at Rosia with his characteristically relaxed gaze.

“It’s been a while, Lady Berthe.”

“……Hello, Your Highness.”

Rosia greeted him back in a small voice. No wonder Baroness Luther had suddenly visited and insisted on dressing her up, saying there was somewhere to go. She must have heard information that the Grand Duke would appear here. Though Rosia didn’t want to hate Baron and Baroness Luther, at this moment she despised them to the point of disgust.

“I didn’t know you would come.”

“I felt the same.”

Rosia shot back immediately. For some reason, she didn’t feel like yielding only to Nigel. Rather, his presence provoked Rosia’s pride that she thought had been buried and disappeared until now. Nigel and Rosia’s eyes met in mid-air. Though people were packed all around them, at this moment it felt like they were the only two there. Just then, cheers suddenly erupted from beside them. Rosia was startled and slightly parted her lips before closing them again when she felt Nigel’s gaze.

Baroness Luther had clearly said there would be a gathering of very cultured unmarried women here. But ridiculously, it was completely the opposite of that description. It was so full of men that Rosia could be said to be the only woman there. The biggest problem was what was happening at this venue.

The long-lost jousting tournament had been specially held to commemorate Her Majesty the Queen’s birthday. There were also rumors it was held to celebrate Nigel’s return, but the reason wasn’t important to Rosia right now. She only wanted to escape from the men’s angry shouts. Rosia felt dizzy seeing the men who had pretended to be refined while dancing at parties now shouting like barbarians.

That’s when Nigel muttered while standing with his arms crossed, staring intently at the match,

“I’m surprised you have such a militant hobby.”

“……I hear that often. Thank you.”