WHEN the garden party was finally over, Cesia returned to the guest quarters in the castle she had been assigned, with Rosary accompanying her. As soon as she changed into a more comfortable dress, she plopped down on the couch and sprawled out as if melting into it.
“So slovenly,” Rosary said, annoyed.
“I’ll recover; just give me a minute,” Cesia said, hanging her head.
Rosary had promptly tidied up what was necessary and had already dismissed the other maids. There was no way to know whether any of the maids that frequented Cesia’s quarters were under the influence of the noble wives from the garden party. Until Cesia married Marcus, her title of fiancée was a trivial thing that could be revoked at any time. That was particularly true for a special case like hers.
Those noblewomen weren’t the only people digging around for dirt on her. Ministers interested in using Marcus for political gain also had their attention firmly locked on her. They wouldn’t have been so ready to spark a conflict with a foreign princess like Juliette, but Cesia, who couldn’t really even be called a noble lady, was a soft target. They all saw her as easily replaceable. Cesia thought it was questionable to assume that because Marcus’s fiancée had already been swapped out once, they might do it again, but she knew they didn’t care for her opinion on the matter.
Looking at Cesia, whose nerves had become so frayed from a single tea party, Rosary stopped herself from sighing. “This isn’t like you.”
“Huh?”
“Normally, you’d have lashed out at those women for treating you like that.”
“Don’t make it sound like I have a short temper…” Cesia said. From Rosary’s perspective, Cesia was the type of person to take on anyone picking a fight with her instantly. Perhaps because she had understood what Rosary was trying to say, she frowned. “When I was all alone, in the absolute worst case, I could’ve always taken responsibility and hanged myself, but things are different now… I don’t want to burden His Royal Highness,” she mumbled, pursing her lips. Women in love might be more beautiful, but anyone with someone to protect also became weaker.
Rosary stopped working and stared at Cesia.
“What?” Cesia asked.
“It’s nothing. You’ve become much more respectable, somehow. It’s hard to imagine that you’re the same person as the one who splashed water all over me.”
“I think you’ve gotten nastier, Rosary.”
“Hmm, it must be your bad influence.”
“Well, you always were nasty.” Cesia frowned. Rosary just chuckled.
It was rare for her to see Cesia so exhausted. Until now, Cesia had always obstinately acted as if everything was normal, even if she had to push herself to do it. I wonder if she’s letting her guard down around me, Rosary thought. She could tell that Cesia made every single movement and gesture with the utmost care around the other lady’s maids and maids. Cesia wasn’t experienced enough yet to be able to hide her effort, but she was still easily deserving of a passing grade.
As Rosary was thinking, Cesia stretched, arcing her supple back. Her black hair was tied up, but some loose strands were around the nape of her neck. “All right, break’s over!” Cesia said. “Hey, can you tell me something? Countess Ellabelle offered me sweets, right? What’s the correct way to respond to that?” she asked, quickly moving to review everything that had happened earlier.
She had already learned everything in the guidebooks, but in noble high society, everything was done by unspoken agreement, and the best response changed depending on the context. Most high-ranking nobles’ improprieties were tolerated, but Cesia was the center of attention of the entire country. She had to be able to do anything and everything as if it were only natural, and it was best to keep any slip-ups to a minimum. That was why Rosary had been chosen as Cesia’s lady’s maid; with her experience, she could cover for Cesia’s mistakes.
“The way you did it was correct. But this way conveys more respect to the other person,” Rosary explained, using empty tea utensils to demonstrate. The way Cesia earnestly listened to her was like a child trying to imitate her mother.
In the past, Rosary had bullied Cesia. Actually, it was more precise to say that she had bullied “Selene Diane,” not Cesia Kathrin. As long as Cesia insisted as such, Rosary couldn’t apologize to her for having bullied her. By making every effort to help Cesia train to be a lady, Rosary intended to make up for what she had done. She was a proud noblewoman and Cesia’s lady’s maid, after all.
“Ugh, isn’t it weird that you have to subtly change the way you move depending on the season? It’s only tea,” Cesia whined.
“Tea leaves and utensils change depending on the season, so how they must be offered changes too. Altering the way you drink to match is a sign of respect for the other person’s hospitality,” Rosary said unsympathetically. Actually, now that she was explaining it to another person, she was struck by how troublesome it was. Anyone born into a noble family adhered to these complicated social norms from an early age; they didn’t have any trouble with them after they became adults. But Cesia had never lived as a noble, so it was difficult for her. Still, there wasn’t anything else she could say to her besides, “Get used to it.” From a logical perspective, many aspects were strange or pointless, but that was the nature of everything that could be called a custom.
On the other hand, Emeroade was a free country compared to its neighbors, and people were more flexible about those customs than most places. Even a small effort to anticipate the season could be seen as sophisticated. However, Cesia wasn’t a normal noble—she was going to become a princess consort. She might have to entertain foreign guests, and it went without saying that she should firmly grasp the fundamentals in preparation for that occasion.
“But customs passed down through the generations all have their reasons for lasting so long. Before stubbornly refusing, you first must be able to practice them,” Rosary said.
“Okay,” Cesia said, nodding. She picked up the tea utensils and attempted the proper movements again. She was awkward, but she did everything correctly.
Rosary watched her neatly return the utensils to the table and nodded. “Okay, you had no issues there.”
“Great!” Cesia exclaimed, smiling brightly. “Then, next—”
“Baroness.” Rosary stopped her. “Let us end here for today. If you cram too much, you won’t retain anything.”
“You’re right,” Cesia said, nodding. She didn’t want to force herself to learn as much as possible just to forget everything. She picked up the cup of tea Rosary had made for her break and took a sip. “Hah…delicious. At that garden party, I had no clue what the tea was supposed to taste like.”
“Oh, what a waste. Those were leaves from the eastern provinces, the first picked of the season.”
“Umm…those are the highest-grade leaves, right? They did smell like fresh leaves…”