Chapter - 4
What did Wolfgang Eisenfuth do when I spoke out loud?
He was just stunned, his eyes wide open in surprise.
Oh, what? It's not the reaction I was expecting.
It's not like he was transformed into a dragon spewing out horrible flames, even if it was just an image. I thought it was only natural that he would glare at me with hatred.
It was a complete waste of time to brace myself for the possibility that he might try to touch me.
If I had to compare his current state to that of a cat encountering an unknown enemy, I would say he was more surprised than alarmed. He was well brought up to be more surprised than cautious.
I guessed that he had never been called a bad word back, at least not by someone his own age. Considering his status, it would be hard to argue with him face to face, even if he was an adult.
His father, the Duke, was unlikely to tell his son that he was short.
A cold sweat ran down my back.
I'm sure that people living in peaceful modern Japan would agree with me. Not only do I not want to be a victim, but I don't want to be a perpetrator either.
Even if that person turns out to be a yandere in the future. Now, if he is just a mentally weak child who stops functioning just because he says the same thing I said back to him. My earlier remark was quite unpopular.
"Well, I was rude. I apologize. I apologize."
My words seemed to dissolve the shackles, and the blood rushed to Wolfgang's face.
"You will not be forgiven!"
"Huh. Well, you don't have to forgive me."
"......!"
His white face turned red like a ripe tomato. I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not.
I'm not sure how much this boy is usually pampered. I'm surprised every time he says something back.
I thought Lord Ranancula was a nice gentleman, but I wondered if he was a father who couldn't scold his son. It's true that we tend to love the children we have when we are old.
Speaking of which...
I came up with a possibility.
I'm sure you're not the only one.
"Are you going to tell my father?"
I tried my best to smile amiably, thinking that there was something cute about being afraid of being told off by one's father.
"No, sir. No, I won't do that, so why don't you join me for a little chat instead?"
At my suggestion, the Wolfgang boy glared at me with a cat-like expression that made every hair on his body stand on end in alarm. It's a lie that a smile can have a soothing effect on others.
I tried to lower his guard with a series of words.
"I'm interested in the parent-child situation in other families. ....My father works in diplomacy and is often not in the country, let alone the territory, so we don't get to see each other very often. I'm not sure what to say to him when I see him after a long time of living apart. Lord Ranancula is a busy man, so isn't he usually in the center of the country?
When I revealed my hand to him, I seemed to have caught his attention a little.
"It is true that my father is usually in the center of the city and only comes back here a few times a month. But I'm surprised that you have trouble talking with Lord Leelia. He is a man of many words."
"Yes, he is. That's why our conversations are limited to my father's one-way conversations. He's a great conversationalist, but I can't talk about anything fun, so I just end up talking to him. But that's a lonely family conversation, isn't it?"
It was supposed to be a way to get the other person off guard, but after I said it out loud, I realized that I had consulted him about my problems more thoroughly than I thought.
But perhaps it worked, because the Wolfgang boy opened his mouth with a slightly serious look.
"....The examples of my father and I will not be of much help. Neither of us is very eloquent. I would report on my academic achievements and my father would praise me, but that was about the extent of our conversation. It was different in the past, when my mother was still alive."
(Hasn't this person noticed that the first person has changed from "I" to "me"?
I feel like "I" is closer to the real thing.
"What kind of person was your mother? In my case, my mother died before I could remember, so I barely remember her."
"I see. I don't remember much about her. No matter how mature a child is, it's not always easy for him or her to express condolences to others. They don't have much experience."
I lifted my skirt and bowed politely to show him that I understood his heart. He seemed to understand, and his expression relaxed.
"....My mother died four years ago. She was not a person of many words, and she never praised or scolded me much. She was a beautiful and kind person, but she was always watching over me.
After reminiscing about the past, he suddenly said, "That's a cliché," as if embarrassed. I felt a little sad at his unchildlike expression.
Even though it was only yesterday that I remembered it clearly, I had a previous life. But he was born as an innocent baby and spent only six years with his mother.
I couldn't help but ask him if he was lonely, and he replied that he was not lonely because he had servants and tutors.
"What about your friends?"
"No children come and go in the house."
"Neither do I."
We both looked at each other and sighed. We looked at each other and sighed, both feeling the inconvenience of our high status.
Despite the differences between men and women, there were similarities between his and my circumstances.
Both of us lost our mothers at an early age, and our fathers were too busy working to see each other. He lives surrounded by adults, such as servants and tutors, and has no one his own age to play with.
I decided to shift the topic from my family to something else.
We talked about our progress in political science and history, about interesting books we had read recently, and about our riding skills.
I found him to be an interesting person to talk to, as I could tell he was also a reader, although his interests were different.
The conversation got so interesting that I told him something that I had kept secret even from my father.
It was when I was out exploring the city by myself.
To be precise, one of the servants selfishly accompanied me to the city. I took advantage of the fact that he was absorbed in negotiations to leave his side for a while and walk around the city. That was all.
Still, it was a great adventure for me. I couldn't resist the urge to share this important secret with a child of my age, who would be furious with me for my safety if I told an adult.
Wolfgang lived up to my expectations. He surprised me and gave me a few words of praise.
I didn't realize it at the time, but I was getting a little carried away.
Looking back, I think my personal name has changed from "I" to "me", which I am usually careful about when I speak. I can't speak for others.
It sounds like an excuse, but this is the first time in my life that I've met someone I feel comfortable talking to.
My grandmother is someone I can talk to about relatively anything, and I think she cares about me more than her duties as a servant. She's as close to family as you can get, but she's not a friend.
This time was unexpectedly enjoyable, and the time flew by.
We came to our senses when both of our fathers came to call us to tell us that dinner was ready with a strange look on their faces, as if they couldn't hold back a smile.
By that time, we had become friends, calling each other Wolf and Lycoris.
What am I doing getting along with you?
***