The World Has Become Kinder to Her

“It must sting, doesn’t it? I can’t believe someone would strike such a pretty face like that. I’m upset on your behalf. I always knew Lady Lissian had a temper, but I didn’t expect her to go this far,” Lady Lillian of the Izlet County said. Her voice was gentle, as if she fully understood what Lotus was feeling. A debutante who had only recently entered society might have easily been charmed by such a sympathetic tone.  

It became clear why Lady Lillian was known as an eloquent speaker—her smooth delivery combined with an ability to adapt her voice perfectly to the situation made her persuasive.

It was a style Lotus had found impossible to emulate when she was eighteen.  

If Lady Lillian were to learn rhetoric from Theodore, she might be able to sway others to her side in an instant, or perhaps, push someone’s patience to dangerous levels with her words.

‘Two of them, just like Theodore… What a terrifying combination. I hope they never meet,’ Lotus thought to herself before responding.

“I’m glad I followed your advice. I’m fine, but if my father or brother had seen my swollen cheek, it would have caused unnecessary worry.”  

Her words were significant, subtly reminding the ladies that any harm done to her would not go unnoticed by the Marquis and the young Marquis Estelle.

Lady Lillian’s eyes glinted at the implication.

“I only have a younger sister, so I envy ladies with older brothers,” Lady Lillian remarked.

“Just because you have a brother doesn’t mean it’s all good. My brother is nowhere near as kind as Lord Estelle. He’s always so mean and difficult,” Lady Charlotte of the Kashima County interjected, shaking her head.

“Being an only child has its own struggles. It can be lonely at times,” added Lady Sylvia of the Soiren Viscountcy, joining in the conversation.  

It felt like they were reading from a well-rehearsed script, as the discussion about family remained perfectly balanced.  

Since Lotus had no desire to mention the Marquis or Marchioness, the only family she could talk about was Hession.

“My brother is kind in his way, but he can be strict. Once, I went out to buy books without taking any knights, and I ran into him at the main gate. He scolded me severely for it,”  

Lotus recalled the incident from when she was fourteen—she had gone out alone, without any maids or knights, and had returned only to be met with her brother’s fury. She had to endure a lecture not just from Hession but also from the knight commander and the head maid.

The way the knight commander and head maid had looked at her after Hession turned away—they must have wanted to strangle her.  

‘I had forgotten about that. No wonder he’s so insistent about this whole escort business now.’

As Lotus searched her memories for suitable stories to share, she realized, just as Theodore had pointed out, that her recollections were strangely distorted.  

Even the memory she had just recalled—at the time, she had only felt resentment and fear toward Hession, but now, upon reflection, she could see his concern for her.

‘It’s almost as if someone wanted me to remember only his cold, harsh side…’

Hession had never been the warmest of brothers, but he wasn’t the type to stand idly by while she suffered or was in danger, as some of her memories suggested.  

‘Then why did I misinterpret the day I was harassed by Viscount Modren’s son as playful?’

Her expression at the time had likely been filled with disgust and fear. Yet, the memory felt incomplete, unreliable. Lotus began to doubt every event she had experienced.  

The more cracks appeared in her trust of her memories, the more fear crept in. Part of her wanted to flee from the truth, while another part urged her to uncover it.

The conversation soon shifted to fashion and gossip in high society, topics that Lotus had no difficulty engaging with, having already seen these trends in her past.

“By the way, wasn’t Lady Lissian quite taken with Lord Abran? That’s probably why she acted so viciously toward you, Lady Estelle,” Lady Lillian said, offering a new insight.

Ah, so that’s why. Lotus gained a fresh understanding. Now that she thought about it, Frederick and Theodore had been quite popular among the young ladies, though Kenneth had garnered the most attention.  

Frederick, with his freewheeling nature and eccentricities, had developed something of an infamous reputation, and as a result, many noblewomen eventually dismissed him as a potential suitor.

‘Are they going to start attacking me by bringing up the men from the ball now?’ Lotus wondered. She had been subjected to these kinds of attacks before—disguised as compliments about her popularity, only to be twisted into accusations that she flirted with any man she met. As a result, she tensed slightly in anticipation.  

But her tension was unnecessary. The noblewomen barely mentioned the men who had approached her at the ball.

“All the young lords were staring at you, Lady Estelle. That dress—was it a creation by Madame Lisette?”  

“At the Harvest Festival ball, you truly looked like a single, beautiful rose, Lady Estelle.”

Just as Lotus feared the conversation might shift toward something more insidious, the topic veered into compliments about her appearance at her debut, leaving her feeling more embarrassed than anything else.  

‘This feels like a new kind of mental attack.’

The pleasant atmosphere, which should have been comforting, was instead stifling to Lotus. She struggled to conceal her discomfort, masking her feelings behind a calm expression.

“No matter how good your cosmetics are, nothing beats a full night of sleep for maintaining your skin,” Lady Lillian chimed in.

“I agree, Lady Lillian. Ever since I had this strange dream a few nights ago, I haven’t been sleeping well. My skin feels dull and tired. Has anyone else had a similar experience?”  

Lady Charlotte’s mention of a dream seemed oddly deliberate. Was it just a coincidence, or was there a plan behind it? Unlike Lady Lissian’s direct outburst, this subtle mention of “dreams” carried a different tone.

Lotus kept her expression neutral, responding with an innocent suggestion.  

“I’ve heard that drinking warm milk or honey water before bed can help you sleep better.”

“Lady Estelle, do you also have strange dreams or nightmares sometimes?” Lady Charlotte’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, and the other women turned their attention toward Lotus.

“Well, I suppose my dreams aren’t too different from anyone else’s. Recently, I dreamed I accidentally fell from a window, but someone was there to catch me, as if they had been waiting.”  

Lotus’s nonchalant response seemed to disappoint Lady Charlotte, whose face briefly fell.

However, Lotus noticed a subtle shift in the group’s mood, a ripple of unease. It seemed that “dreams” might be a clue to understanding this strange world.  

The noblewomen, ever composed and well-educated, quickly redirected the conversation, this time to tips for revitalizing skin after a sleepless night.

‘No matter what their true feelings are, they’re all being kind to me on the surface,’ Lotus thought, noting how none of them wanted to offend her.  

‘Have they had strange dreams about me, like Lady Lissian did? Is that why they fear me as a witch? If they’re so afraid, why would they even invite me here instead of keeping their distance?’

It felt as though her head was spinning. Between skipping proper meals recently and keeping her nerves on edge, her body was beginning to protest. Lotus closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to refocus.

At that moment, Lady Sylvia of the Soiren Viscountcy, who had been relatively quiet, gently slid a plate of macarons toward Lotus.  

“Lady Estelle, please try one of these macarons. They’re my favorite snack from the duchy. The filling has such a rich flavor.”

The other noblewomen, now realizing that Lotus hadn’t touched any of the food besides her tea, glanced toward her as well.

“Thank you, Lady Sylvia,” Lotus said, picking up a strawberry macaron and offering a delicate smile—her first genuine one of the day, albeit tired.

***

“Did you enjoy the tea party, my lady?”  

Rutin, standing near the carriage with a smile, greeted Lotus as she approached. His posture was as formal and neat as always, though he appeared far more animated than Sior and Millen, who remained rigidly in place.

Lotus found Rutin’s demeanor both strange and intriguing.  

‘Why does this young knight look so happy to be assigned as the escort of someone like me?’ 

If this knight had any past connection to her, Lotus suspected he would have already pried or provoked her with sharp questions. Despite her cynical nature, she wasn’t one to pick a fight with someone ignorant of her circumstances. So she answered his innocent question truthfully.

“…It was informative,” she said, reflecting on the fragmented clues she had gathered and how they had brought her closer to answering her suspicions.

“Sir, you didn’t wait outside the entire time, did you?”  

“No, I waited in the duchy’s lounge and came out just a moment ago.”  

“That’s a relief.”  

“Shall we return to the Marquisate now?”  

“Yes,” Lotus replied.  

Although she hated the Estelle Marquisate, there was nowhere else she could go. In both the past and the present, one thing remained unchanged: there was no place where she could truly feel at ease.  

She climbed into the carriage, and it began to move slowly. There was no rush to return, so the pace was leisurely.  

‘Tired,’ she thought, and afraid. Constantly keeping her guard up and questioning everything around her was draining her, and the more information she uncovered, the more suffocated she felt.  

Even the act of crying wasn’t a freedom she could afford. Afraid of her sobs slipping out, she bit her lip hard, silencing them.  

Even if a sound escaped, it would surely be drowned out by the clattering of hooves and the wheels turning.

Knock, knock, knock.  

At some point, the carriage slowed and eventually stopped. What was going on? Lotus hurriedly wiped her face with a handkerchief.  

‘The tear marks should be gone, but my eyes will still be red.’  

Just as she began to panic, a concerned voice came from outside.

“My lady, it’s Rutin. Could you step out of the carriage for a moment?”  

“What’s the matter?”  

“Oh, it’s nothing serious. But there’s something I’d like you to see if you could come out for a moment…”  

Maybe if her expression and voice were composed, the redness in her eyes would go unnoticed. But then again, who cared?  

‘How absurd. Who’s even paying attention to how I look?’  

It wasn’t as though she had been crying right in front of anyone, and even if she had, why would her escort knight care?  

After all, he’d been pulled from his familiar territory to be saddled with the duty of guarding a bastard noblewoman. His emotions surely weren’t pleasant.

Lotus quickly gathered her thoughts and took Rutin’s hand as he helped her down from the carriage.  

She hadn’t noticed earlier because the curtains were drawn, but they had stopped near the bridge that crossed the Venus River.  

The river, bathed in the glow of the setting sun, was breathtakingly beautiful.

Several others had also stopped to admire the view, but Lotus couldn’t join them.  

The sight brought back memories of when her body had been swallowed by those very same red-tinged waters.  

The sensation of water filling her lungs, her limbs growing heavy as she sank deeper and deeper.

It felt like she couldn’t breathe. As if submerged once more, her breaths became labored, and her legs weakened. Lotus staggered, her strength draining away.