Chapter 4 - Shopping With My Father

Deep into the night, long after the moon had ascended the sky, the maids engaged in clandestine conversation amidst a garden adorned with pristine white roses.

"Ah, today proved to be quite arduous."

"Likewise... By the way, where is Merilyn?"

"She is likely being reprimanded by Lady Floyen."

Just then, Merilyn emerged before them.

"Merilyn!"

The maids approached her with worried countenances, bombarding her with inquiries.

"How was your day?"

"Are you alright?"

In response to Sella's query, Merilyn recollected the recent events and let out a sigh.

She pretended to be fine... but...

Though Jubelian had endeavored to conceal her emotions, the tears brimming in her indigo eyes were perceptible to Merilyn. The lady adorned an awkward expression accompanied by a contrived, almost sheepish smile. Though Jubelian had often subjected the maids to mistreatment, witnessing her vulnerability evoked sympathy within Merilyn.

"No, there were tears shed."

Upon Merilyn's words, the maids widened their eyes in astonishment. They proceeded to cast aspersions upon Jubelian.

"Lady Floyen is truly excessive!"

"Indeed. She should have directed her anger towards Sir Mikhail, not you, Merilyn."

Merilyn massaged her temples. It appeared that the maids had misconstrued her intentions, assuming they were offering her consolation.

"No, not me. Lady Floyen was the one in tears."

One of the maids, who had queried if Jubelian had hurled something at Merilyn, was taken aback by her revelation. Her eyes widened with surprise, akin to those of a startled rabbit.

"What?"

"After completing the bath preparations, I entered her chamber and witnessed her silently weeping."

All the maids scowled with skepticism. They were well-acquainted with the kind of person Jubelian was. It proved difficult to believe the veracity of Merilyn's account.

"Did she truly?"

"It appears that the breakup affected her deeply. She appeared exceedingly listless this evening as well."

Silence pervaded the somber ambiance before a masculine voice pierced the stillness.

"She wept?"

At his abrupt interjection, all the maids jolted with surprise.

"M-master!"

Duke Floyen, the proprietor of the estate, scrutinized them with an unyielding gaze. Fear gripped the maids, knowing full well that they had been caught red-handed, discussing Jubelian. They found themselves bereft of excuses to escape punishment.

"You." The duke's resplendent, peacock-blue eyes settled upon Merilyn. Merilyn held her breath, awaiting her master's continuation. "Elucidate in detail what you witnessed," he commanded in a frigid tone.

* * *

Upon awakening, my body felt lighter than the day prior.

Ah, today holds promise.

Spending my days as a recluse, relishing delectable cuisine, wouldn't be an unfavorable prospect. However, my scheme was akin to mere wishful thinking. For some inexplicable reason, my father summoned me for breakfast this morning.

"How is the fare?"

Undoubtedly exquisite, but it's your presence that dampens the experience, Father.

"It is splendid."

The complete truth eluded me; I managed only a short reply before eagerly diving into the meal.

I needed to expedite this task and return to my chambers.

I nearly devoured the food, though a light breakfast felt somewhat burdensome.

"Consume at a leisurely pace. Hastiness may cause indigestion."

My father peered at me, observing me as one would scrutinize something pitiful.

Yet, it is you who induces such illness within me...

I was already taken aback by his sudden invitation for breakfast. His gaze, as I consumed my meal, only compounded my discomfort.

Why is he subjecting me to this? Is he silently reproaching me for severing ties with Mikhail?

Departing from the dining hall to relieve my unease would only unveil my discomposure. I persevered, forcing sustenance down my throat. Before long, my father averted his gaze and sighed.

He must deem me pitiable. Well, it is understandable.

My father held the esteemed title of duke. Moreover, he commanded the revered Imperial Knights, the backbone of the Central army. After his triumphant victory in the war two decades ago, he emerged as the empire's heroic swordsman and a beloved icon.

He possessed it all.

Moreover, my father's striking handsomeness endured. Even now, marriage proposals came his way.

If he finds me inadequate, it's beyond my control.

My father was the embodiment of success. In contrast, I fell short, not merely as an ordinary person, but as a pitiable one. My lack of discernible talents was overshadowed by my pursuit of Mikhail, and my social standing plummeted. My poor social skills hindered any attempts at forming connections.

In typical stories, villainesses remain adored in their circles, regardless of their actions... This character exudes a rare authenticity.

Unintentionally sulking, my gaze once again met my father's.

"Is this what you wish for?"

He must have believed I was regarding the plate of food before him. I shook my head, yet a substantial portion of meat had already landed on my plate.

"Partake."

Despite feeling satiated, I couldn't refuse what my father had bestowed upon me.

Why are you subjecting me to this?

As I silently suffered the consequences of overeating, he suddenly addressed me by name.

"Jubelian."

"Yes?"

"What is your ideal suitor?"

I dropped my fork in response to the unexpected question.

Why on earth is he posing such a query?

A servant in the dining hall promptly replaced my utensil, but the shock was such that it felt as though I would drop it once more.

"I am merely curious."

While it was a simple inquiry, it seemed incongruous emanating from him, considering his treatment of me over the past eighteen years.

He never displayed an interest in me, so why does he now inquire about this?

An uneasy thought suddenly dawned upon me.

No way... Is he attempting to marry me off to another individual? Is he genuinely seeking an heir?

The hypothesis appeared plausible. As his sole progeny, I did not possess the qualifications to succeed his title.

I would prefer a stepmother and a half-brother over matrimony!

Rapidly pondering the implications of his question, I ventured forth an improbable proposition, given the circumstances of this world.

"I cannot say for certain. Perhaps a man stronger than you, Father?"

He mumbled something to himself before casting his gaze upon me.

"Do you speak in earnest?" he queried, his voice emanating a chill.

Upon hearing the tone and meeting his icy gaze, I realized my misstep. There existed no individual in the empire stronger than my father. To avoid further agitation, I hastened to amend my response.

"...I mean, that would be ideal, but such a person does not exist in this realm, correct? Father, you are the preeminent swordsman of the empire!"

His countenance softened upon my praise.

He is exceedingly difficult to please...

"Thus, what is your final answer?"

I had hoped to segue into a different topic, yet he exhibited no inclination to do so.

I must mention someone who meets near-impossible criteria without inciting his ire.

After all, no other family boasted higher prestige than the Floyen household. Even if he were to introduce a prospective suitor, I could simply dismiss him on grounds of incompatibility with our lineage.

Having sorted my thoughts, I regarded my father with an unwavering expression and declared, "I shall not wed unless the man possesses everything. I desire the most affluent, renowned, and competent individual."

I surreptitiously inserted the possibility of foregoing marriage, carefully scrutinizing his countenance for any shifts. His visage remained inscrutable, rendering it arduous to ascertain his thoughts.

After a protracted silence, he finally spoke."Understood."

It appeared that I had convinced him. I heaved a sigh of relief.

I am weary. A little longer, and I can return to my chambers.

Spending time with my father proved disconcerting; thus, I eagerly awaited the conclusion of breakfast.

"Jubelian."

"Yes?"

I felt a twinge of apprehension concerning his forthcoming words. However, this time, I steeled myself to respond.

No matter the question, I shall provide an answer.

His lips parted slowly. "Let us venture somewhere together."

Startled by his impromptu query, I dropped my fork for the second time.

"Go somewhere?" I sifted through eighteen years of Jubelian's memories to determine if I had ever accompanied my father anywhere, yet nothing surfaced. "Why?"

Upon voicing my reservations regarding his unexpected proposal, he replied calmly, "For no particular reason."

Baffled by his succinct response, I experienced a dull throbbing in my head.

Why do you subject me to this, Father?

* * *

We eventually found ourselves at Arcade Street, wherein a high-end shopping emporium stood, reminiscent of modern establishments wherein numerous stores congregated under one roof.

"That." My father pointed toward a peculiar-looking owl watch. The attendant guiding us summoned someone. "Neil, add the owl watch!"

I sighed in exasperation, my headache intensifying. I briefly closed my eyes.

I fail to comprehend. Why does he persist in these actions?

When I reopened my eyes, I deliberately averted my gaze from lingering upon any particular item for too long. Nonetheless, while perambulating past an array of stores, my attention was captivated by a porcelain rabbit.

That is exceedingly expensive.

In my previous existence, ceramics were commonplace. Yet, within this world, they constituted high-quality items accessible only to a select few. Consequently, ceramic figurines fashioned as animals, flowers, or people elicited envy from many.

How regrettable. I fail to perceive its allure...

Witnessing the surrounding onlookers extol its beauty, I found the various pigments adorning the porcelain rabbit to be disordered and peculiar.

I cannot fathom why individuals would expend substantial sums of money on this.

At that instant, I detected a weighty gaze behind me, prompting me to hastily divert my attention elsewhere.

Ugh, not again...

Despite my determination to refrain from lingering upon any object, I had fixated upon this peculiar artifact for an extended duration. While berating myself for this lapse, I discerned my father's utterance.

"That one as well."

He pointed toward the porcelain rabbit.

I scowled in frustration.

Why does he continue purchasing items upon which I inadvertently cast my gaze?