A familiar sense of resignation, one that had practically become second nature to her by now spread throughout Flare’s heart.
“Lord Samuel, if Lady Lillian is feeling unwell, then her mother, Camilla, should be the one to nurse her.”
“Camilla has her hands full, so it can’t be helped! Or what, are you saying that simply because Camilla used to be a commoner?”
It was true that Lillian’s mother, Camilla, was originally a commoner. She had been noticed while working as a servant in a Baron’s household, subsequently married into the family, and became Lady Muller.
In the Kingdom of Luarl, even if a commoner marries a noble, any child born between them is treated as nobility. However, the commoner’s own social status remains unchanged.
In other words, while Lillian was a noble, Camilla remained a commoner.
Because class divisions were so strictly enforced, nobility generally frowned upon commoners entering their families through marriage. The only reason Camilla had been accepted was likely because her partner was merely a Baron.
The higher the noble rank, the more prominent such class prejudices became. Yet among them, Samuel was a rare individual who never seemed to care about social status.
(I used to think that quality was wonderful, too…)
Not discriminating against people based on their status. It was a splendid perspective, and Flare agreed with it in principle. However, to live within the structure of society, one had to conform to social rules to a certain extent, regardless of one’s personal beliefs.
Thus, Flare never loudly pushed her own views onto others. At the same time, she always made sure not to discriminate based on status within her own capabilities.
(And yet, I thought Lord Samuel understood that about me…)
Receiving such a misplaced accusation made Flare’s chest ache with pain.
“It is not because she is a commoner. It is because Camilla is Lady Lillian’s mother. Nursing someone back to health is normally a duty for family, is it not?”
“Lillian is like family to me as well!” Samuel retorted, his voice thick with displeasure at Flare’s words.
(Even if she were family, you still shouldn’t spend all your time lingering in the bedroom of a young woman of age.)
What Flare considered common sense simply did not register with Samuel. And the only times it failed to register were when it concerned Lillian.
“I’m so sorry, Lady Flare… It’s all my fault. Having Lord Samuel by my side just makes me feel so safe so whenever I feel horribly unwell, I end up relying on him without thinking. I’m truly, truly sorry…”
Saying this, Lillian shed tears that trickled softly down her cheeks. After making sure her tears left a deep impression on Samuel, she slowly covered her face with both hands and continued to sob quietly.
“Don’t cry like that, or your eyes will get swollen. Don’t worry, I’m right here beside you.”
Lillian’s gentle sobs echoed through the room. Placing a comforting hand on her back, Samuel offered her soft, soothing words.
(Just what am I being made to watch here?)
They nestled together like a picture-perfect scene, while Flare stood on the sidelines, feeling like a mere spectator looking in from the outside.
Who was actually Samuel’s wife?
Anyone stumbling upon this scene would be thoroughly confused. No matter who looked at them, Samuel and Lillian appeared to be the true husband and wife.
“Flare, if you stay here, Lillian will feel uncomfortable. Please go back to the manor ahead of me.”
Faced with Samuel’s instruction as he comforted Lillian, Flare couldn’t bring herself to answer right away.
“When do you plan to return, Lord Samuel?”
Flare forced the words out past a throat that felt tightly constricted.
“I will return once Lillian’s condition stabilizes. I might remain here for the night.”
Samuel spoke without even looking in Flare’s direction. He was likely displeased by their previous exchange.
He was doing this on purpose, fully aware of just how important today was to Flare.
“…I understand.”
Deprived of even the energy to argue, Flare gave her response, turned her back on the two of them, and left the room.
In the study where the evening sunlight filtered in, Flare pressed a hand to her aching forehead.
The mahogany desk was solid and heavy, exuding a grand presence that clearly appealed to masculine tastes. Yet the one using the Walsh family’s study was not Samuel, but Flare.
Seated in a large office chair scaled to the desk, Flare turned her gaze toward the attendant standing before her.
“It seems I am not particularly welcome here.”
Exhausted from the emotional toll at the Muller residence yesterday, Flare let out a weary sigh.
“Indeed. It appears the butler is the only person in this household with a sensible mind.”
The one who answered was an attendant who had accompanied her from the Rickbelt family for her wedding.
The attendant, a young man with black hair and deep navy eyes, was named Lucius. Together with his twin sister Louise, he had served as Flare’s personal servant in the Rickbelt household.
Since Louise, who was her maid, was intentionally arriving a little later, Lucius was the only one present at the moment.
“It was definitely the right choice to leave Louise behind. If she knew about the current situation, who knows what would happen…”
Since the twins were around the same age as Flare, they had spent their childhoods together. Because of this, Lucius spoke in a tone that was remarkably casual for a servant speaking to his master.
“You’re right. I can practically picture her throwing a rampage.”
The two possessed diametrically opposed personalities. Lucius was the intellectual, quiet type, whereas Louise was an athletic, action-oriented go-getter. People had often joked in the past about whether their genders had been swapped.
If Louise, who practically worshipped Flare were here right now, things would have turned far more chaotic. Whether physically or verbally, Louise would undoubtedly tear the opposing party to absolute shreds.
(If that happened, Lord Samuel would simply fire her.)
Naturally, authority over the staff’s management and employment belonged to Flare as the mistress of the Walsh house. However, if Samuel as the head of the family voiced a final refusal, his decision would take precedence.
“It seems the servants wished for Lady Lillian to become the mistress of the house instead of me.”
In the end, Samuel never returned from the Muller residence yesterday.
Whether that was meant as a deliberate spite against Flare or because Lillian was genuinely ill, she could not tell. However, it rendered Flare’s standing within the Marquis manor extremely precarious.
The unprecedented scandal of a ‘bride abandoned on her wedding night’ swept through the servants’ quarters overnight. From Flare’s perspective, since the wedding itself had already been canceled before that, she no longer cared about such trivial gossip.
And today, Flare caught whispers of the servants gossiping in various corners of the estate. No, they weren’t even trying to hide it, as if they wanted Flare to overhear them intentionally.
“I was so sure the Master would marry Lady Lillian.”
“I know, right? There’s no couple better suited for each other than those two.”
“Lady Flare must have forced her way between them.”
“Is that why the Master didn’t come home from the Muller residence yesterday?”
“It must be!”
They would exchange meaningful glances while shooting look after look toward Flare.
“They lack discipline entirely. To think servants of a Marquis house could be so vulgar…”
Perhaps recalling that moment, Lucius spoke with rare emotional intensity. Though he usually kept his feelings concealed, he made no effort to hide his deep disgust now.
“They know nothing about what would have become of this family without you, Lady Flare.”
At Lucius’s sharp remark, Flare recalled a conversation she had shared with Samuel not too long ago.