Alas. Our lives were turbulent. But I was strangely happy.
“Mother!”
No matter how many times I scolded her, Claire always happily leapt into my arms. Sometimes she would cry after I lectured her, sometimes she would need to be cheered up after making a mistake with her dance, and sometimes she would come running to our bed because she was scared of the lightning outside. But no matter the occasion, I always found my worries blown away by her wholehearted, pure love and trust in me.
Claire turned four today. The maids and I prepared a wonderful party for her, but before we could celebrate, a letter arrived. The sender was Clément Achard. He was inviting us to a discussion with many other influential nobles, several of whom had signed the letter as well, making the invitation difficult to ignore. It sounded like many members of the progressive faction had been invited too, and the letter mentioned something about the conservative side being willing to make a compromise. As the leader of the progressive faction, House François had to attend.
“No, you can’t go! Today’s my birthday, you two have to stay with me!” Claire protested with tears in her eyes. She so often had to endure Dole and I being absent. She hardly complained, but we knew it was tough on her, so we’d made an effort to plan for us to spend her birthday with her.
“Claire, don’t cause problems for your mother. As nobles, we must put our duty first,” Dole said with a guilty look. I’m sure he would have chosen to stay with Claire in a heartbeat if he could.
“But I’m always putting up with you two being away… Can’t I have you here on my birthday?” Claire said through tears.
I felt like my heart would tear in two. Shaken, I thoughtlessly said, “I’m truly sorry, Claire. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Oh, I know! I’ll buy you a birthday present, anything you want. What would you like, dear?”
She froze stiff, before yelling, “I don’t need your presents! I hate you, Mother!” She then ran away to her room.
“Oh, Claire…”
She was too young to understand a noble’s duties. We tried explaining it to her a number of times, but some things were simply beyond a four-year-old’s comprehension.
“She’ll understand one day, Melia,” Dole said. “The responsibilities of a noble come before all. Even before family.”
“…I know. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder if Claire might have been happier if she were not born a noble.” Perhaps Claire was meant for a life of freedom, not one of duties and ideals. Either way, it did not matter now. I could not turn down Clément’s invitation.
“Lene, please look after Claire. Cheer her up if you can,” I asked.
“I will try. I wish you both safe travels.”
Our new maid, Lene, was a favorite of Claire’s. I hoped she would be able to cheer Claire up and asked her to do just that. She accepted, but the look in her eyes seemed to fault me for my choice not to stay. I did not blame her.
“Let’s be off, Melia. For Claire’s future,” Dole said.
“Let’s.”
There was a chance today could bring an end to our political divide. Dole and I steeled our wills and departed, intent on making sure Claire’s tears today wouldn’t be in vain.
“What a waste of time…”
“That was nothing more than a get-together, wasn’t it?”
Dole and I could only sigh despondently on our way back from the Achard manor. What we were told would be a discussion to find middle ground between the conservative and progressive factions turned out to be a mere social gathering. There were no political discussions to be had, only insubstantial, trivial talk that barely touched on the issue. To think we’d made Claire cry for such an inane event… Dole and I were livid to say the least.
“At least we were able to leave early. We should be able to make it back in time for Claire’s birthday,” Dole said.
I didn’t reply, as my mind was elsewhere.
“…Melia, is what happened still weighing on your mind?”
“…It is.”
“We did what we had to. Clément may be a political opponent, but he is still a high-ranking noble. We couldn’t refuse his invitation, even if it was sent at the last minute. Especially not with how he framed it.”
I knew Dole was right. We had no choice but to go. Even so, the image of Claire’s tearful face was seared into my mind.
“Hey, Dole? I—”
Just then, there was a great impact against the carriage.
“Melia!” Dole covered me with his body, putting himself in danger in the process. There was a moment of weightlessness, then a mighty thud.
By the time I regained my bearings, the two of us had been tossed out of the carriage. My arms and legs hurt, but I forced myself to stand and assess the situation. It appeared we had collided with another carriage and fallen off a cliff. Our carriage was broken, with Dole and the coachman lying nearby. The horse lay on its side, braying, with what I presumed was a broken leg.
My consciousness was fading. I looked down and saw my thigh had been pierced by a broken shard of the carriage. I was bleeding profusely. It was clear I would die if nothing was done, so I seared the wound shut with my fire magic.
I looked around and saw four figures approach from the darkness of the surrounding deep forest.
“…I take it this is no accident, then,” I said.
They were all clad in black. They looked like children, but the way they moved told me they were trained. In their hands were knives.