Bonus Story: Rosemary’s First Kiss?
“MARY, do you remember when you first blessed me with a kiss?” Reynaldo asked.
One peaceful evening, the three of us—Reynaldo, Albert, and myself—were sitting around the dinner table. In the midst of our usual routine, Reynaldo suddenly dropped this bombshell on us. The bread I’d just taken a bite of fell onto the table in a most unladylike manner. At the same time, Albert’s knife slipped from his hand and clattered against his plate.
“Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?!” I cried.
“I thought we might discuss the past,” Reynaldo answered. “Since the three of us are back together and having dinner, we should spend the evening reminiscing over wine.”
Despite his high-spirited tone, he seemed to be enjoying Albert’s and my reactions more than the wine.
“Is this talk of a kiss true, Mary?” Albert asked.
“Hmm…” I mused. “Let me think about that.”
Thankfully, I had no memories of ever blessing anyone. However, I’d routinely kissed Reynaldo good morning and goodnight. On the cheek or forehead, of course. From what I could tell, he wasn’t talking about that sort of greeting.
Still, how would a man feel about his first real kiss coming from his sister? If Stanley had brought up this sort of conversation, it would have been to spite me. However, Reynaldo couldn’t have been more different than Stanley. In fact, he’d brought up this conversation with a huge grin on his face.
“Do you remember giving me a present to celebrate my fifth birthday?” Reynaldo asked.
After thinking back for a while, I nodded. It had been Reynaldo’s first birthday after moving into the Hubert household. Rosemary hadn’t been able to host a large party due to her mother’s presence. Thus, she’d celebrated with Reynaldo in her favorite garden, having asked a handmaid to prepare a meal and cake for two.
“As I recall, you gave me the first handkerchief you ever embroidered as a gift,” Reynaldo said.
I smiled at that. “Oh, you remembered.”
Reynaldo’s eyes sparkled, his expression identical to the boy he’d once been.
“Your needlework was so precise that it hardly seemed like your first attempt,” Reynaldo said. “You embroidered my initials into the handkerchief, remember? Even after all these years, I still keep it safely stored away.”
“Wait, you still have that old thing?” I asked.
That seemed excessive. Reynaldo had said this as if stating the obvious, but that handkerchief was over twenty years old now.
“In part, I kept the handkerchief because Rosemary gave it to me, but it was also my first ever birthday present,” Reynaldo explained. “It holds deep sentimental value for me.”
Up until then, neither his real mother nor Marquis Hubert had ever given him a gift. Moreover, he’d revealed this information so matter-of-factly. I found it heartbreaking, but Reynaldo spoke of Rosemary’s gift with pure joy. Not even Rosemary had known how much that handkerchief had meant to him.
In response to my sorrowful gaze, Reynaldo donned a strained smile. “Please don’t worry yourself over this matter. At that point, I didn’t even know about the custom of receiving presents on one’s birthday. Thus, I was overjoyed when Rosemary gave me a gift. As an additional request, I even asked for a kiss, to which she obliged.”
Yes, that’s right.
Even if this had taken place in my past life, it still made me blush. But honestly, there was no need to be embarrassed, as it had simply been like us playing house.
As Reynaldo and I fondly reminisced about our time as siblings, Albert dropped another bombshell.
“Rosemary once kissed me as well, you know.”
“…Huh?” Reynaldo and I spoke in unison.
Albert drank his wine, unconcerned by our reactions. “Rosemary probably wouldn’t remember, though.”
“When was this?” Reynaldo asked, his tone dripping with murderous intent.
“Oh, it was at her debutante,” Albert replied.
Based on his nonchalance, he was likely telling the truth. To find out for myself, I probed Rosemary’s memories even deeper.
Debutante… Rosemary’s debutante.
So far as I could remember, Rosemary had asked Prince Grey to escort her, but since he came down with a fever on that day, Albert accompanied her instead.
“What were you doing at that time, Reynaldo?” I asked.
“I was at boarding school,” he answered.
Reynaldo’s sulky expression looked exactly as it had when he was ten years old. “I want to be your escort!” he’d shouted back then. However, only people fourteen years of age and older could enter the ballroom, so he wouldn’t have been allowed inside.
Rosemary had attended her debutante at the early age of fourteen, since the royal family wanted to announce her engagement to Prince Grey as soon as possible. She’d mastered ladylike etiquette by that time, so presenting herself at the youngest possible age hadn’t been any trouble.
Or at least, I don’t think it was.
A doubt appeared in my mind. Though I couldn’t recall the details, it felt as though something outrageous might have occurred.
“You don’t remember, do you?” Albert asked, his eyes fixed on me.
Yes, Rosemary had committed some sort of unspeakable act. If it had been my current self, I would have understood, but the flawless Rosemary? Unthinkable.
“How strange,” I said. “I can’t remember what happened at all.”
I bowed my head slightly in apology because I couldn’t remember. To be honest, I wanted to know the answer as well. When had Rosemary kissed Albert, exactly?
Before the debutante, when Rosemary still entertained faint hopes for love, she briefly harbored affections for Albert. Yet, as someone who’d been betrothed since childhood, she’d discarded these feelings. They’d been a fleeting, adolescent dream.
But did she actually give into reckless abandon and do something outrageous at one point?
As I looked at Albert uneasily, Reynaldo glared at him with displeasure.
“Unfortunately, this isn’t the beautiful sort of memory that you two might be imagining.” Albert smiled at us. “Do you still want to hear the story?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“By all means, tell us,” Reynaldo agreed.
In response to our prompt answers, Albert drained his last few sips of wine.