Sister-in-law of the Heroine in a Childcare Novel - Chapter 130

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 130

I broke out in a cold sweat trying to soothe Bibi. She kept shrieking that she absolutely opposed such a rushed timeline, so I pacified her as best I could, called out “I’m sorry, Bibi!” and ended the call. She continued to beseech me—though it wasn’t quite beseeching—to let her sponsor the clothing, to let her provide jewels, and I simply laughed and deflected every plea with a wave.
Time slipped away mercilessly in the interim, and the preparations moved forward at dizzying speed. To avoid drawing attention, Valentina corresponded with the Countess of Orland entirely by letter.
I watched Valentina lay her bait in society with admiring fascination—though I would have preferred merely to watch. Instead, I found myself just as busy, caught up in endless preparations and fussy errands. On the appointed day, I rose at dawn and took meticulous care with my appearance from head to toe, then climbed into an elegant carriage with Valentina. The House of Orland occupied a grand estate in the most exclusive district of the Capital, complete with a ballroom spacious enough to host receptions entirely on their own grounds. Fortunately, the journey was short. As we rode in our large, ornate carriage, I glanced back at the smaller one following behind us.
“Will it work?”
“And if it doesn’t? You’re bold enough to have dragged a stranger like me into scheming at the Imperial Palace itself. Are you only now getting cold feet?”
Valentina, who typically wore clothes elegant yet somewhat subdued in tone, had dressed herself today in something appropriately radiant. I admired the gold trim that framed her neckline.
Gold was one of the Imperial Symbols, and even Empress Cleo dressed in fabrics shot through with golden thread as a matter of course. Yet the fabric Valentina wore carried an unmistakably different quality from what Cleo habitually procured.
“No. I’m not afraid.”
As I felt the carriage wheels slow to a halt, I smiled.
One way or another, I needed to find a way outside the Imperial Palace walls. Once my debutante presentation was complete, my freedom of movement would expand considerably, and then I could accelerate my search for the remaining Divine Power Bearers and my path to becoming a True Sword Contractor—currently stalled.
The carriage door opened. Valentina descended first, elegant as ever, leaning lightly on her cane. The man waiting below looked somewhat anxious. …Anxious? I found myself studying Raymond’s face with fresh curiosity.
Once upon a time, I would have thought that face incapable of looking anxious—so impassive that a needle wouldn’t penetrate. But now his brow was slightly narrowed, his mouth taut.
“…You are beautiful today.”
Rather than remark on Raymond’s expression, I simply replied in measured tones.
“The Young Duke looks quite striking himself.”
I placed my hand upon the man’s and descended from the carriage. A faint floral scent drifted from his fingertips—persistent and cloying, like the memory of scattered cherry blossoms once crushed in his palm and never released.
We walked slowly toward the ballroom. I had deliberately chosen a time after the guests had assembled, so that music and laughter spilled out even beyond the threshold. The doors opened, and for a moment the hall fell silent. A sudden hush amid the chatter. The moment the attendant’s resonant voice announced our arrival, every eye turned toward me, struck dumb.
“…enters the hall!”
“Good heavens.”
“What in the world—!”
The Countess of Orland approached wearing a smile as practiced and polished as a mask.
“How welcome you are, Your Highness. We have not had the pleasure of meeting you outside the Palace before. You honor my reception by gracing us with your presence. I am truly delighted.”
“This woman, always indulging her whims—she’s simply gratifying her wish to let her great-niece see something of the wider world.”
“Lady Armerin, how wonderfully long it has been! I still recall those days when you stayed at the Palace, and how you adorned the entire garden with shrubs of Armerin flowers woven in gold for your garden reception. Seeing you today, I cannot help but feel those blossoms have bloomed anew.”
“Your tongue remains sharp as ever, I see.”
Valentina laughed warmly. All eyes fixed upon me. The young woman standing directly beside Valentina—Orland’s Eldest Daughter—could not hide her agitation as our eyes met. I offered her a subtle smile in return. I had memorized her face long ago: the lady who had danced the first dance of her debutante with the man at my side. Her wavering gaze flickered between Raymond and me before falling to the floor. The Countess of Orland simply beamed, oblivious to it all.
“Since such esteemed guests have arrived, I should dearly love to see a dance. What say you, Lady Armerin? There was no gentleman or lady in those days who could match you on the floor….”
“Enough, enough. These days I must depend upon my cane just to move about. I shall yield the dance to my great-niece.”
I felt Raymond’s fingers stiffen with tension. He hesitated only briefly before speaking to me with careful restraint.
“…Might I have the honor of the first dance, Your Highness?”
“With pleasure.”
We glided toward the center of the hall as smoothly as water flowing downhill.
The body that was “Titania” knew every waltz ever composed. Beneath the gold of anxious eyes, through gloved hands, I felt his touch grow cold—and together we spun, round and round. The weight of every gaze, the whispered commentary, the soft rustle of passing silks….
“…Was there a particular reason you chose this place?”
Round and round, round and round. My skirts bloomed like flower petals. It was a ready-made dress, skillfully altered by a tailor Valentina knew well, yet so perfectly finished that no one looking at it would ever guess it was anything less than new.
“My great-aunt recommended it. She said that to erase old rumors, direct confrontation is best.”
“…….”
“It’s all right. I harbor no ill will toward the House of Orland now. I acted only for the Castrain Family.”
Though I had never practiced dancing separately, my feet moved with consummate skill—almost absurdly so. One, two, one, two. The ghost of a young child, biting her teeth against the pain of blistered feet before the mirror, hanging like a dead petal from the hem of the heaviest, most cumbersome gown. That shadow was what I wore now.
As we danced in silence, Raymond stumbled ever so slightly—as if I had driven a dull knife into his chest. And then I understood.
Ah.
He remembers the “then” Titania. That is why he faltered.
‘…Why didn’t Raymond love me best?’
A birthday reception serves as an excellent pretext for a debutante presentation.
Titania had not been invited to the House of Orland that day.
Which meant she never witnessed this man dancing with that other woman. Had she seen it, how would she have reacted? Would she have raged at him for stealing away another’s betrothed, clawed at that woman’s hair, torn at her dress, caused some terrible scene? The likelihood was great.
But Titania could only remain in her palace, waiting for Raymond to come find her, consumed by nothing but despair and fury at the news.
Imagination always crushed her beneath its worst-case scenarios. That they made such a noble pair. That perhaps, perhaps they might even be destined to see their future together….
Raymond had no interest in any other woman—he was busy, he had a hundred excuses like that. But such pretexts had their limits in assuaging a despairing heart.
He did not soothe the sobbing, desperate girl. He did not make excuses. He simply stood frozen, watching. And Titania had grown far too weary to tend to the state of someone who could do nothing but stare at her with those frozen eyes.
‘Rather—rather, when you were angry with me, when you could make demands of me, my heart found a strange ease in it. I could accept that I could never, ever be the “perfect fiancée” you wished for. Somehow, if only you could come to understand that…. Then everything would end, and we could all find peace. I am not the kind of person who can save anyone. I grow too weary saving only those within my small circle. So therefore….’
I recalled that man’s face, pallid and drawn as he had once appealed to me. His words had not been wrong. Titania, after all, only ever needed someone to love her best. For that, she might have accepted even the most monstrous creature the world could produce. But Raymond was of the Castrain Family—and that was one thing he could never be.
Yet because of a sense of duty and guilt that he could not wholly abandon, whenever I thought of how Titania’s despair must have been not merely unwelcome but actively torment to him as he watched helplessly, a strange feeling would bloom in my chest.
“It is rather amusing, isn’t it? That the ‘Princess Titania’ before her death and resurrection must have prayed, in dreams and waking, for a day like this.”
I looked at his golden eyes, now visibly trembling like melted gold, and smiled.
“I believe that foolish, selfish child could never have achieved this dream while alive. In truth, was it ever truly love? They say you were such a perfect match, that you loved and cherished one another, that you would be married, that you existed for one another alone. To be raised in a palace, indoctrinated by such whispers, hearing only such words…. Perhaps it was merely obsession?”
“…Why…. Why do you speak of such things?”
Raymond’s eyes widened slightly as if I were speaking nonsense. I laughed as if it were merely a jest.
“Because it all feels like a dream.”
Clumsy pity is always the cruelest.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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