RS 08

Chapter 8

In the newspaper Dolores had seen the previous day, there had been an article saying that the second son of the Durand de Morten Company might inherit part of their business, and that he had returned after studying political economy at Rudigen Academy in the neighboring country of Triavelle.

She had heard that he had gone abroad to study, but she had never heard the details directly from Xavier. She knew very little about it.

Dolores finally asked the question that had been lingering in her mind. That much she couldn’t hold back.

“…Did you quit completely? The violin.”

Instead of answering, Xavier turned toward her and raised the corners of his lips mischievously.

“If you missed me that much, why didn’t you come see me at least once? Whether it was during my travels or while I was staying abroad…”

“Why are you changing the subject?”

“Pab told me. He said you missed me a lot.”

“You’re the one who left without saying a word.”

“What would have changed if I’d told you I was leaving?”

Dolores stopped herself from speaking.

She hated to admit it, but there wasn’t a single lie in his statement that nothing would have changed.

“Fine. I was being pathetic.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Don’t call me that. Don’t call me at all.

Anger rose all the way to her throat, and the veins on the back of the hand gripping her cane stood out.

When she could do nothing but glare at him without saying a word, Xavier lightly rose from the swing.

“You still don’t know what you want.”

“Why do you act like you know what I do and don’t want?”

“Because I do.”

His utterly shameless confidence left her speechless.

Xavier took a step toward her.

“If you’re happy that I’m back, say you’re happy. If you missed the days when we used to spend time together, say you missed them.”

“I’m neither happy nor nostalgic.”

“Not ‘I wasn’t,’ huh?”

Xavier slipped his right hand into his pocket and tilted his head until their eyes were level.

He was smiling.

His left hand covered the back of the hand that held her cane.

“Tell me what’s really on your mind. It doesn’t matter if something about me bothers you.”

“I have no interest in your explanations. I don’t know what I was like last year, but at least now, you and I have nothing to do with each other anymore.”

“I have no intention of explaining myself, either. It’s not important… But you are curious, aren’t you? About how I’ve been all this time. …Hmm. Whether I’ve continued with music.”

Dolores pushed his hand away and looked straight at him.

“When I say I’m not interested in your explanation, I mean that it’s not even worth spending my time on you.”

When she had met him a few days ago, Dolores had shown him enough sincerity—she had made her refusal perfectly clear.

What irritated her even more was that Xavier knew that and still didn’t care.

Just like last year, when he had left without caring about her as a person at all.

“I know.”

“Then go back.”

“Clody will be upset.”

“I can meet her separately and say goodbye before she leaves.”

Xavier stared at the stubborn Dolores for a while before smiling meekly.

Then, as though he had never been so persistent in the first place, he walked past her.

“Stay home. It might rain this evening. See you soon.”

The sky looked far too clear for rain to be possible.

Dolores glared at the back of his head as he walked away and told him that she would send back the money he had given Pablo, but he didn’t seem to hear her at all.

Watching him disappear gave her an uncomfortable feeling, like looking at a button that had been fastened into the wrong hole.

She returned to the front entrance.

The faces of her two younger siblings were stuck to the window beside the entrance like barnacles.

“What did that guy say?”

“Sister, what did you talk about with Xavier?”

Anais had a sullen expression, while Pablo looked as though he were eagerly anticipating something.

Dolores stared intently at her siblings. She had been about to head upstairs to her room, but instead, she turned around and walked back toward the window.

Then she abruptly held out her hand.

“Pablo, give it to me.”

“Give you what?”

“The money Xavier gave you. I’m going to return it, so give it to me.”

Anais’s eyes flashed.

She pursed her lips into a little circle and gave Pablo a sidelong look as though she had just discovered something interesting.

“Oh-ho. The eldest son of the Artois family has been bought off with money!”

“Stay out of this, Sister!”

“So that’s why you’ve been saying such nice things about that guy all this time, huh? Father would have a field day if he found out. He’d get incredibly angry and put you under house arrest, wouldn’t he? How long do you think your punishment would last this time? Two weeks? Three weeks? How many weeks would you be forbidden from going out?”

Pablo’s face began turning red enough to burst, while Anais seemed to regard it as proof that she had won another glorious victory.

“Stop!”

Before Dolores even had to make much of an effort, Anais’s relentless attack caused Pablo to huff angrily as he rummaged through his pocket and pulled out the money.

Two crumpled 100-livre bills.

“There! Happy?”

It wasn’t an enormous amount of money, but it was certainly not a small amount either.

Two hundred livres was enough to watch a first-class performance by the famously expensive Vaguesdorées Municipal Ballet Company or a performance by the Avi Toulouse troupe in Bino from the best seats in the theater.

For some people, however, it was merely several days’ wages.

Anais snatched the bills away and waved them in the air.

“For a son of a Bransen family, why are your hands so small? Then again, I suppose this is how you became rich—by being so stingy.”

Having been influenced a little more strongly by their father, Anais had always tended to be cynical toward bourgeois and gentry families.

As she entered adolescence and began to understand what kind of family they were and who actually held power in Lange, it was hardly surprising.

“Sister, I’ll hold onto it and give it back to him. He’ll come again anyway.”

Dolores was about to absentmindedly say sure when she caught Anais stuffing one of the 100-livre bills into her little purse.

It had looked so natural that she had nearly been fooled.

“How are you planning to meet Xavier and give it back to him?”

“He’ll come again, given his personality.”

“Sister! You’re trying to steal it!”

Pablo, who had been watching Anais suspiciously, suddenly leaped into action as though he had been waiting for his chance.

“No. Give it here. I’ll take care of it.”

Dolores snatched the bills away from her.

Anais widened her eyes indignantly.

“No, really! Do you think I’m as disloyal as Pab?”

Dolores calmly shrugged and headed straight for her room.

“Now, everyone rest quietly until dinner.”

Before evening came, Dolores thought it would be better to get at least a little sleep.

She happened to glance toward the window.

The sky was still clear.

There was absolutely no sign of rain.

Just like that, she fell into a deep afternoon nap.

She dreamed.

It was raining.

The sound of things becoming soaked, raindrops striking the ground, the wreckage of an overturned carriage, and the pounding of a heart…

When she opened her eyes, the day was already waning.

Outside the window, the sky was being dyed pink by the sunset.

That’s a relief.

Since it hadn’t rained, the laundry wouldn’t have gotten wet.

Still groggy, she lowered her gaze.

The 200 livres were still clutched in her hand.

Then a commotion rose from downstairs.

The moment she heard her father’s voice, she came fully awake.

Dolores hurriedly put on her robe and grabbed her cane.

She had just realized that she hadn’t prepared dinner in advance.

They were not financially well-off.

They had lost much of what little wealth they had during their mother’s long illness.

As for the help they received from others, the most they could count on was their neighbor, Mrs. Audrey, coming over two or three times a week to clean their somewhat grand but aging house and take care of the household chores.

In truth, it wasn’t really assistance so much as occasional paid employment.

Fortunately, Anais was preparing dinner downstairs.

No—apparently, she had already finished eating.

“Pablo and I just had something simple for dinner.”

Dolores brushed aside her fallen hair and looked into the living room.

Her father was already drunk and asleep on the sofa.

“He said something good happened. I didn’t ask what it was… He went straight to sleep. He didn’t even know that you were sleeping.”

“Pablo went to the shed just now.”

Anais watched Dolores with a relieved expression before ladling some soup into a fresh bowl for her.

“I saved some for you. This is yours.”

Julienned carrots and cucumbers, the bread they had eaten earlier that day, and freshly made chicken soup were laid out on the table.

Dolores sat down and ate while staring at Anais with a strange feeling.

Throughout the meal, Anais sat across from her, flipping through a book.

She was in the middle of coming up with the odd idea of creating a code using books, so she merely flipped back and forth between different pages.

“Why are you interested in making codes?”

“Isn’t it fascinating to have writing that only I and the other person know?”