A Mad Lady’s Confession - Chapter 37

The official start of Römern’s social season began with an invitation from the imperial family.

During the full social season, the imperial family held three social events, and the number of times one was invited to these events allowed others to gauge the standing of that family.

It may have begun as a wish to pass the long summer safely under the rule of the Emperor, who received the grace of the Mother of the Earth and the Sun God, but in truth, it was nothing more than an event for the imperial family to empty the nobles’ purses.

In gratitude for the Emperor’s invitation, it was customary to present several million marks or an equivalent tribute, so even nobles could not help but click their tongues in bitterness.

Even so, every noble in Römern wanted to attend all three imperial events, even if it meant going into debt. That was the only way to uphold their family’s prestige.

Even if their financial situation was not good, they had to attend through gritted teeth to prove they were still standing. Calling it a duty of the nobility fits perfectly.

Inside a carriage that moved steadily through the capital’s streets without a sway, Eleanor clasped her hands together as she kept her gaze on the scenery outside the window.

This event was the first official duty given to her.

Will I be able to do well? I want to do well.

Having asked Mrs. Nella separately, Eleanor hired a tutor and relearned etiquette. Compared to what her older sister from her family had hurriedly taught her before, she was able to learn in greater detail.

Moreover, this was not just a simple social gathering, but an event hosted by the imperial family. She was worried she might make a mistake.

It was fine if she embarrassed herself. Things like that were forgotten quickly anyway. What worried her was whether she might stain the name Nielsen that now followed hers. She feared that, and feared that Matthias might stop returning home because of it.

He’s been treating me well.

Though he seemed indifferent, she knew he was considerate in his own way. He bought her dresses, and even granted her wish that he return before midnight.

He didn’t seem like the type to listen to others, yet whenever Eleanor said something, he often gave her an answer.

Having never properly received consideration before, even these small things felt very meaningful to Eleanor.

Still, even if Matthias hadn’t done those things for her, Eleanor’s feelings would not have changed much.

Because the man named Matthias Nielsen possessed qualities that anyone could like at least once.

She wasn’t talking about his wealth or his appearance. It was the small things, like the jokes that didn’t quite feel like jokes he would offer when their eyes met, his light teasing, the faint scent that lingered from him, the shape of his fingers as he lifted a teacup, the look in his eyes as he read the newspaper, and his elegant, long strides.

Even the atmosphere that sometimes felt cold, his cynicism, and his indifference all made Matthias Nielsen stand out. So anyone who once gave him their attention would find it impossible not to like him.

Eleanor Brynhill liked Matthias Nielsen.

“El, love is another word for death.”

As Del’s voice echoed in her mind, her white hand gripping the hem of her dress tightened. She hurriedly made an excuse.

‘No, Del. It’s not love, I just… like him. Like liking a squirrel that builds its nest in an oak tree, like enjoying looking out the window on a rainy day… I will never fall in love.’

She would never love anyone. Love, in the end, destroys everyone.

But maybe it would be alright to just like someone a little, just a little, on her own.

“Are you nervous?”

At the sudden voice, Eleanor’s thoughts returned from her reverie to the reality inside the carriage.

When she turned her head, the man seated across from her let his gaze fall to the hem of her dress. Her gloved hand had been gripping tightly the skirt the maids had carefully pressed. The strength left her hand on its own.

“There’s no need to be nervous. It’s a ceremonial event.”

Eleanor knew that as well. She’d asked her etiquette teacher over and over and had already memorized the entire sequence of the event.

When their names were called, they would go together before the Emperor and offer their greetings. After receiving a brief word of blessing, the women would go to the tea hall, and the men to the cigar room, to spend time with members of the imperial family.

“I won’t make a mistake.”

Eleanor spoke as if making a promise to herself. At times like this, she wished she were Del. The thought came to her without effort.

Even knowing she could never become that girl who was already gone, Eleanor still found herself thinking of Del out of habit whenever she faced a difficult moment.

Matthias couldn’t hide his puzzlement as he watched the woman in front of him, who had been firming her resolve, suddenly grow clouded-eyed.

Again. Just what kind of train of thought moved so quickly that the woman could look as if she might burst into tears the moment after smiling?

Her emerald-like eyes, which shone so brightly, seemed to dry up without moisture like leaves withering in autumn, and it bothered him more than he liked, but he soon brushed the idle thought away.

At most, it’s a one-year relationship. No, not even that. There aren’t even three hundred days left now. Perhaps in the woman’s notebook, the days they had spent together were being carefully marked off one by one.

His mind, which had been thrown into a small confusion unlike himself because of the woman, had long since been put in order. Don’t pay her any more attention. Don’t bother with whether she’s truly mad or whether she used to be. What meaning would that have?

Even if one has everything in abundance, not wasting things foolishly is the virtue of a Römern noble. And he, of all people, was someone who lacked time. So he had no intention of letting it slip away carelessly while watching an hourglass that clearly showed when it would run out.

As the woman had said, one should spend moments without regret, he intended to share those “moments” with her only to the extent that he wouldn’t regret it.

There was no need to dig any deeper. Her curious, pretty eyes, her occasionally absurd actions that made him let out a small laugh, and a fairly satisfying bed. It would be enough to enjoy just these to a moderate degree.

Even so, as if driven by some instinct, his lips moved naturally and spoke.

“You can make mistakes.”

“….”

“After all, you’re also a Nielsen.”

He didn’t really need to say something like that, but well, it was a name she could enjoy for the time being. That was their contract. He would smooth over any mistakes under the name of Nielsen, so no one would dare say anything.

He watched the woman’s eyes, now moist again and shining, then lowered his gaze to the documents and added as if joking, “If you get really angry, pour tea on them. Not pig’s blood.”

“Pfft.”

A small burst of laughter escaped the woman. Without even realizing the slight sense of relief that came from hearing it, he focused back on the documents.

The carriage, now entering the imperial capital, began to slow down.

It went without saying, but the imperial palace was more splendid than Eleanor had imagined.

Every ornament placed along the road, large and small, was exquisitely crafted, and all of them were gilded, dazzling to the eye.

What surprised Eleanor the most was the golden fountain in the middle of the garden. Instead of water, something vividly red was surging upward.

“…What is that? Is it blood?”

“You really do like blood. …That’s wine.”

“Wine? Then why is it in a fountain…?”

As Eleanor covered her mouth in amazement, unable to hide her awe, Matthias looked coldly at the scenery beyond the window.

Under the pretext of receiving the blessing of the Sun God, the imperial family had always worshiped gold, but by the time of the current Emperor, it had gone too far.

Excessive splendor is worse than a lack of it.

Whether they wished to elevate their reign or deliberately exaggerate it, the current imperial family’s prosperity stood precariously on the boundary between luxury and vulgarity. The view outside the carriage made Matthias’s eyes ache.

Only after passing several more gardens decorated with rare flowers of every color, as if boasting of vigorous life in the height of summer, did the carriage finally come to a stop. Only then did Eleanor stop looking out the window and straighten her posture neatly.

She stepped down from the carriage with Matthias’s escort. Following behind the chamberlain who had come out to receive them, she walked along a long corridor, trying to maintain her posture and restrain her gaze from wandering everywhere.

At last, when they reached the place where the Emperor’s audience chamber was located, the gazes of numerous nobles lined up along the corridor, waiting their turn, turned toward the two of them.

“….”

The looks that had been directed at Matthias, filled with admiration, envy, and a trace of jealousy, shifted to Eleanor and changed into clear contempt and disgust. The eyes that swept over her from head to toe carried base curiosity, a different kind of jealousy, and ridicule.

How shameless, to come here of all places. They said she wasn’t in her right mind, and it seems that’s true after all. Their eyes seemed to whisper that.

Eleanor instinctively knew that the topic of the murmured conversations, exchanged behind fans between those nearby, was undoubtedly herself.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected the unkind atmosphere directed at her. But thinking about it and actually experiencing it were very different.

Lady Jules and Miss Sorelson’s attitudes toward her had also been sharp and sometimes stung, but it was nothing compared to the cold treatment from so many people at once.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from showing how she was shrinking back.

It’s something you did, Eleanor. So you have to accept it, their reproach as well.

Even as she repeated it over and over in her mind, she couldn’t stop the slight tremble in her fingertips.

Only when a large, warm hand firmly grasped hers did the trembling stop. A low breath brushed her ear like the wind.