A Mad Lady’s Confession - Chapter 81

“Do you know something?”

“What?”

“…They say a ghost lives beneath the roof of the Brynhill mansion.”

“What?”

Two pairs of eyes naturally turned upward, toward where the roof presumably was.

“Didn’t you just hear something?”

“…Wh-why are you trying to scare me….”

Thump, thump, thuuump!

“Aaah!”

The two maids whispering in the dark, gloomy corridor screamed and ran away.

Eleanor, who’d been lying on her stomach and watching them through a crack in the floor, sat up and complained.

“Del! Why do you keep doing that? You scared the maids away!”

Eleanor liked watching the maids. Everyone already avoided coming to the fourth-floor corridor because they found it eerie…. She thought she might finally get to see the older maids again after so long, only for Del to ruin it.

“You don’t understand. When people tell ghost stories, a ghost is supposed to appear.”

Del, who always stamped those feet to drive visitors away from the fourth floor, spoke triumphantly.

Eleanor puffed out her cheeks as she looked at the fair face resembling her own. The two children, who turned eight that year, had many similarities.

Their faces were white like the powdery inside of a potato, their bodies unusually small for their age, and their hair hung loose all the way to their knees. Even the loose cotton dresses they wore, which looked like sacks thrown over their bodies, made them seem as though they’d been stamped from the same mold.

“I don’t care. I didn’t get to see the maids because of you.”

Sulking, Eleanor went to a corner of the room and hugged her knees. The surroundings in which the small child sat were messily disordered.

On one wall, where the wallpaper hung in tatters, lines marking their growing heights, tally marks corresponding to their ages, and various scribbles had been drawn in black charcoal.

Piles of old bedding lay scattered throughout the room like graves. With no bed and pillows and cushions heaped everywhere, the entire place was a mess.

Apparently accustomed to the sight, Del stepped across the pillows as though they were stepping stones and went to Eleanor’s side.

“El, are you angry?”

Instead of answering, her small, plump lips stuck out in a pout. It meant she was thoroughly sulking.

“Should I brush your hair?”

“….”

Knowing the silence meant yes, Del hurriedly took out a small treasure chest from one side of the room and opened it.

Inside were several books whose corners had worn down from being read over and over, a floral handkerchief some apprentice maid once dropped outside their door, and an old comb whose teeth had been polished smooth.

Del carefully picked up the old comb, kicked the cushions aside, and sat behind Eleanor. Swish, swish. With practiced hands, Del brushed through Eleanor’s long hair.

“I wish my hair were pink too.”

“….”

“If I looked like Mother, mine would’ve been a pretty color like yours.”

In truth, neither child had ever seen the mother who gave birth to them or their father. Everything El and Del knew about the outside world came from the old maid Jules.

“I just had to take after Father.”

That was the difference between them. Aside from their similar yet distinct faces, the color of their hair set them apart more clearly.

Unlike Eleanor’s hair, which resembled cyclamen petals covered in morning dew, Del’s brown hair was said to be the same color as Count Brynhill’s.

Eleanor slowly shifted her eyes and studied Del. Hair, Mother, and Father always made Del gloomy. All three had just come up, so she thought Del must be sad.

“Del, should I do yours too?”

“…Yes.”

Eleanor quickly turned around and took the old comb from Del’s hand. Just as Del had done, her small but capable hands carefully brushed through the brown hair.

While having that hair brushed, Del quietly asked, “El, why do you keep watching the maids?”

“…Just because they’re pretty….”

“We’re prettier.”

“…And I want to make friends….”

“You can’t be friends with a maid, El.”

“…Hmph.”

“You have me, El.”

Del turned around to face Eleanor.

“And I have you. Don’t I?”

“…Yes.”

“There’s no need to be sad. Some people in the world have no friends or family at all. Do you remember Mr. Simson, the old bachelor Jules told us about last time?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“He has no family, no friends, and no sibling like you and me. But at least we have each other.”

“…That’s true.”

“What did I say I’d do if someone bullied you?”

“…You said you’d slap them across the face.”

It was a rather violent method, but Del nodded solemnly.

“You only do that for someone precious. It’s all in the books.”

“…Really?”

Even though they lived in the same place, Del knew far more than El and could read many more letters. So Del couldn’t have been wrong.

“I can do that for you. Because you’re precious to me.”

Eleanor nodded. “…Me too. I feel the same.”

Like an adult, Del proclaimed boldly, chin raised, “‘Even among the misfortunes scattered across the ground, find good fortune’….”

“‘And even among the malice drifting like air, find goodwill.’”

The two children giggled as they took turns reciting a maxim they’d picked up and memorized without understanding its meaning.

“So, El, meeting you as my sibling is the good fortune I found among the misfortunes at rock bottom.”

“Me too, Del. Then we’re each other’s good fortune, aren’t we?”

The two children, white as flour bread, smiled sweetly and lovingly patted each other.

El and Del were born and raised beneath the roof of the Brynhill mansion.

To be precise, they were born in the countess’s bedroom, but from the earliest moment Eleanor and Del could remember, they’d lived in a room with a sloping ceiling beneath the roof. In other words, that was their home.

Not many people knew they were there. The only ones who cared for them were the old maid Jules and two apprentice maids whose difficult circumstances left them no choice but to keep their mouths shut.

Until they turned nine, the two had never ventured beyond the attic room. The large, shabby room filled with piles of pillows, cushions, and blankets was their entire world.

One year, when the tenth tally mark was drawn on the wall, the old maid Jules grew even older and one of the apprentice maids quit, allowing them to leave the room beneath the roof for the first time. It was all because Jules, her mind growing dim, forgot to lock the half-sized attic door.

Deep into the night, the entire estate was precariously quiet, like a sleeping beast.

“Del… let’s go back now. I’m scared….”

“What are you afraid of when I’m here?”

Eleanor clutched the hem of Del’s pajamas and looked around the pitch-black corridor.

“Don’t worry. Whatever appears, I’ll defeat it.”

They were similar in height and build and had the same slender wrists and ankles, but Del was always brave. Eleanor didn’t possess that much courage, but she was brimming with curiosity instead.

Even as she said she was frightened, Eleanor’s green-grape eyes constantly roamed over every part of the corridor they were exploring for the first time.

Few people came up to the fourth-floor corridor, so there wasn’t actually much to see. An old carpet covered the floor, and a few aged tapestries were the only decorations on the walls.

Even so, merely walking through a space other than the one beneath the roof made the two children’s hearts pound wildly.

“El, should we go in here?”

“Huh?”

Before Eleanor could even nod in agreement, Del gripped the doorknob with a small hand and turned it forcefully.

Since Eleanor was holding on to Del’s clothes, she was pulled inside in bewilderment before she had any chance to stop her twin.

As with the fourth-floor corridor, there wasn’t much to see inside the room. White cloths covered every piece of old furniture, and even those apparently hadn’t been changed when they should have been, as thick dust had accumulated over them.

Del lifted one dusty cloth after another to look beneath them. Eleanor, who initially did nothing but watch nervously, soon began actively roaming around the room and examining everything.

The space was as large as three ordinary rooms combined and appeared to be used as storage, with objects scattered about without any order. In the area farthest from the door were several cloth-covered objects without any encrusted grime1) on them, as though they’d been brought there relatively recently.

“El! Look at this!”

Eleanor hurried over to Del on her bare feet. Her hazy green eyes trembled faintly at the object Del had discovered.

“…Do you think these are our father and mother?”

“Yes. I think so.”

The two people in the portraits looked exactly as Jules had described them, leaving no room for doubt. Besides….

“Look, Eleanor. Mother’s hair is exactly the same color as yours.”

Just as Del pointed out, the woman in the portrait had beautiful pink hair.

“And this… must be our father.”

The brown-haired man in the portrait Del indicated looked stern and cold.

“Do you think they’re dead?”

“I don’t know. Jules won’t tell us things like that.”

If the two children grabbed hold of Jules and refused to let her go, the maid would groan and occasionally let a few things slip. But there were some questions she steadfastly refused to answer.

Where their parents were now. Why they were living beneath the roof like this.

The world they’d seen since birth consisted entirely of the space beneath the roof, but as the years passed and they counted the sun rising and setting beyond the decorative round window, their curiosity grew.

Whenever they asked those questions, Jules would mutter,

“Because you’re beings who deserve to live that way.”

Beings who naturally had no choice but to live that way.

“El, I think someone’s coming!”

When they pricked up their ears, they heard a door opening in the distance and sensed someone approaching.

Without hesitation, the two immediately hid beneath the white cloth draped over a large mirror beside the portraits.

Step, step, step.

The approaching footsteps sounded close at hand. Even without looking, they could tell that the person who entered the room was probably staring at the portraits.

“…Sob… haa….”

Someone was crying.

When El turned toward her sibling, Del brought a finger to those lips.

The crying, which sounded like the noise of a wounded animal, continued for quite some time. The person would cry for a long while, mutter something under their breath, cry again, and then laugh.

At first, El was merely terrified they might be discovered, but now she was growing bored of standing there. Her legs also hurt from standing for so long. She unconsciously leaned back slightly.

Creeeak.

The adjustable mirror tilted slightly at an angle, making a faint but harsh noise.

El’s eyes widened as she looked at Del, who wore a similar expression.

“Aah!”

The cloth concealing them was violently swept away.

Author’s Note

1) Coarse grime that accumulates on something deeply stained.