Mess 195

195.

“Where on earth did you learn language like that?”

Startled, Seraphie leapt where she sat.

Impossible—she, with such a sincere and well-mannered face, reciting the kind of vulgar curse words one would expect only from ruffians in the back alleys.

“I picked it up at the resort.”

Batisa answered with a bright, innocent expression.

“Actually, after I found out what happened to that scoundrel Baglosa, I was so furious I blurted out the same curse words right in front of my parents….”

Apologizing for having been late because she’d been reprimanded by her appalled parents, Batisa added her confession in a guileless voice.

‘She used that language in front of the Marquis of Castane?’

In front of such an upright and principled adult?

Seraphie felt the world spinning before her eyes. She herself was now on the verge of fainting.

“Who exactly did you learn that from?”

“From Lady Kia, the Viscountess.”

Grandmother!

Seraphie covered her face with both hands. She felt nothing but remorse toward the Marquis and Marchioness of Castane.

“But, you know, I—I actually like it very much!”

Batisa was delighted with her own newfound ability to curse.

“You see, they always say that for nobility, it’s a virtue not to show one’s feelings carelessly. Being forthright is considered vulgar….”

Batisa too had grown up with that philosophy, always hiding her feelings as much as possible, showing others only her best side.

“I didn’t even know how to properly express that I disliked something.”

“Is that perhaps why Baglosa’s heir kept following you…?”

“I don’t think that anymore.”

Perhaps once she might have, but Batisa now knew very well that none of it was her fault.

“In any case, I much prefer the person I am today.”

“……”

Watching her bright smile, Seraphie found herself at a loss for words.

And so, in the end, she could only return the smile herself.

‘Yes, this is a good thing.’

What better change could there be in the world than this?

Seraphie had liked the previous Batisa, but she liked this Batisa even more—the one who could curse boldly and express her feelings honestly in front of her.

Yet there was something, just a small thing, niggling at her heart.

“Then why did you say earlier you were upset over what happened to Baglosa’s heir?”

“Oh, that!”

Batisa, recalling what she’d momentarily forgotten, huffed indignantly, rather like a squirrel whose acorn had been snatched away.

“But if he starts bothering me again, chasing after me and causing a nuisance….”

Yet what the squirrel produced from her cheek pouches was anything but cute.

“I was planning to use this.”

What she revealed was a small dagger.

“In accordance with the ‘Act to Punish Stalking and Chronic Obsessive Behavior’ that you had passed at the last council, Seraphie, I could invoke self-defense and…”

“Ha ha…”

“I learned this one from your new father, Sir Dula!”

Insisting she learned it with the Marchioness, Batisa proceeded, in earnest demonstration, to show how she wielded what she’d been taught.

Clumsy though the movements were, the way she flicked and turned the palm-sized dagger sent a real chill up one’s spine.

“Don’t you think I show a bit of talent?”

Batisa’s eyes sparkled as she stroked the blade with her fingertips.

“…I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

Seraphie could only laugh.

And she resolved that when next she met the Marquis and Marchioness of Castane, she would bow deeply and apologize for turning their daughter into an aspiring assassin.

---

One way or another, preparations for Seraphie’s first ball proceeded smoothly.

When word first spread that she would be hosting a ball, there were voices of concern from all quarters. Some went so far as to hurl outright reproach.

But as soon as it was announced that the purpose of the event was to raise funds for charity, the response shifted dramatically.

Even the Emperor praised the cause, mentioning it personally, and the nobles slyly began to express their intention to attend.

Yet Seraphie remained prudent.

“This is your first ball, my dear.”

Viscountess Kia offered personal counsel as Seraphie prepared the invitations.

“Do you understand your position within the Empire?”

“I’ve become the greatest high noble in the Empire. And I will flourish still further.”

“Exactly so.”

This, then, was Seraphie’s—and the Countess of Validus’s—very first ball.

“You mustn’t think of a ball as mere diversion. That gathering is where your skill, wealth, and power—everything you possess—will be presented before the world.”

“It’s a place for my abilities to be measured, then.”

“And at the same time, it is where you yourself can confirm much.”

Your allies, your influence.

Your standing.

For Seraphie, who had only ever raced forward, it would be the moment to verify and take stock of the ground she had covered.

The success of this ball would have enormous repercussions for everything she did henceforth.

Moreover, with the exception of attending official events like Imperial banquets or council meetings, this was to be Seraphie’s first social engagement of any kind.

“I’ll do everything I can to help.”

The Countess Validus likewise spared no effort on Seraphie’s behalf.

She saw to the decorations for the ball and even personally selected the dress her daughter would wear, all to help the busy Seraphie.

“Hehe…”

Yet every so often, out of nowhere, she would dissolve into a fit of giggles to herself.

“What do you find so amusing?”

Seraphie, searching through outfits alongside her, inquired.

“I just… never thought such a day would come for me.”

Such happiness had never entered her wildest dreams, and so, even when things grew hard, she could not help but smile as her cheeks flushed bashfully.

“That’s why I feel so grateful to you, and so sorry…”

“Don’t say the last part,”

Seraphie interjected brusquely, cutting her off.

“You haven’t done anything to be sorry for, so only be grateful—actually, there’s no reason even to thank me.”

“My dear, I am still your mother, you know…”

“You survived to the end and protected me.”

“……”

“Just having you hold out alongside me—that alone is enough for me.”

In the end, the Countess wept, quietly overcome, but even that was a moment of happiness and peace.

With so much help, preparations for the ball proceeded easily.

On top of that, Viscountess Kia had taken on some of the work herself, allowing Seraphie to breathe a little easier.

“Phew…”

Stretching wide as she emerged from her study, Seraphie wandered the manor for a stroll.

She exchanged pleasantries with the staff as she passed, eventually arriving at the library.

Moving confidently to the most secluded corner of the library, Seraphie reached up toward the top shelf.

“……”

What she took down was a glass jar stuffed full of feathers. The lid was tightly bound with a bandage imbued with Peonia’s protective magic.

Seraphie unwound the bandage and opened the lid. As a cheerful sound rang out, the feathers inside the jar stirred from the motion.

“This is odd…”

Seraphie’s blue eyes blinked slowly as she peered inside the jar.

“I never put any feathers in here…”

So why did the feathers within the jar keep multiplying?

At some point, the phenomenon of feathers sticking to Seraphie’s back had vanished. She realized it after returning from the resort.

Since the night she had lain with Orchis, Seraphie had not seen a feather attach itself to her.

Instead, the feathers began settling in the jar by themselves, one after another, in neat stacks.

But what was even more peculiar was that, despite the jar being closed, the feathers kept accumulating inside without cease.

Outwardly, it did not appear to be filling up any further, but Seraphie could tell for certain.

The feathers in the jar were steadily increasing.

“…Why am I not troubled by this?”

The more she looked, the more familiar and natural this oddity seemed. At some point, she regarded the phenomenon with complete indifference.

Yet, at the same time, there was a faint, lingering unease—an annoying, oppressive feeling, like the discomfort that comes just before indigestion.

Whenever Seraphie tried to reflect seriously on the feathers, she would feel a wave of nausea and the beginnings of a headache.

So Seraphie decided for now to put it out of her mind.

She wasn’t ignoring the matter altogether—she was only prioritizing the truly important things in her life.

For now, the feathers did not seem very important.

She was plenty busy already—there was no need to invite discomfort.

It’s not as though they were doing her any harm; in time, with patience, the answer would surely reveal itself.

‘…Hmm?’

Seraphie tilted her head.

“Eventually?”

What exactly was it that she would come to know, eventually?

“Ah…!”

Questions and dread flickered simultaneously across her mind, but with one slow blink, peace returned to her face.

Suddenly, she found herself recalling the black-haired priest.

She could not say why, but it was as if he had just been beside her mere moments earlier.

‘Come to think of it, I ought to get in touch with the temple at some point.’

Rising, Seraphie closed the jar, wound the bandage tightly around its mouth once more, and restored it to its place.

And with lighter steps, she left the library.

‘The temple’s communications network in every province is something to covet…’

Through collaboration between the Foundation and the temple, Seraphie wished to build her own independent communications network across the Empire.

Via the Validus Foundation, she hoped to extend a helping hand not just in the capital, but to every part of the land.

At the same time, she sought to gain access to intelligence on incidents and relevant information arising throughout the Empire.

‘After all, I can’t always rely on the Imperial family and Felicia for help.’

Over the past year, Seraphie had grown unimaginably, but one thing had always been in short supply.

It was information.

Having once lived a life all but isolated from the world, Seraphie was still profoundly ignorant in so many ways, even after finally setting foot in the real world so late.

‘Ignorance is a weakness, and leads to mistakes.’

When she first began prospecting the land deserted by the gods, she learned the basics of business directly from Orchis, and later leaped into the field with Loony at her side.

Still, it hadn’t been enough.

She hadn’t even known her own family owned a foundry, or that the temple had a loan shark business in the capital and maintained a house to hide their mistresses.

She was still not clear on what had happened to the Kia family, or exactly how that incident had been investigated and subsequently buried.

She didn’t know about Glache, nor was she aware of what was happening in Iris.

She was ignorant of the temple’s sordid underbelly, and unaware just how vicious their loan operations were.

‘And…’

And.

‘…I still don’t know anything about Count Loria.’

No matter how thoroughly she searched, nothing would turn up regarding him.

All she’d ever had was the faintest connection—he had briefly been a suspect in the deaths of the previous Viscount Kia and their family.

Even that suspicion had faded for lack of evidence, and afterward he had left the Empire with his family on an extended trip abroad.

Seraphie continued to suspect that it was he who introduced her father to the temple’s loan business—a prime instigator.

Power, whether the Crown Prince’s or Seraphie’s own—all of it seemed to have Count Loria’s shadow at its origin.

‘Therefore…’

Seraphie stopped and glanced sideways.

Reflected bright in the corridor window, the woman standing there was utterly changed from the ‘■■’ she once knew.

In every way.

‘Soon, it will be time to face it.’

Staring long into her own eyes in the mirror, Seraphie resumed her steps.