When had it started?
When he had stepped in front of Clara and blocked her way.
'Please move aside.'
Clara knew she should say that.
But for some reason, her lips wouldn't part.
"Marquis."
In the moment of hesitation, he turned his body to face Clara.
"Shall we head back now?"
"..."
Clara simply nodded silently, still looking up at him.
Even as she followed him out, Clara never did turn back to look at Rufus one last time.
Upon returning home, Clara naturally headed for her room.
A bath was urgently needed.
It was fortunate she had instructed the nursemaid to prepare a bath a few days earlier.
If not…
'Ah.'
She realized it belatedly.
The nursemaid was gone now.
She hadn't asked any other maid to prepare a bath either, so her room would be completely empty.
Clara changed direction towards the study.
But she soon realized this wasn't a particularly good choice either.
This room contained something she least wanted to face right now.
The portrait of Rufus Merriweather.
Her father's face.
What she had ultimately turned away from today.
Clara stood before the black cloth.
After briefly contemplating while holding its edge with her small hand, she tightly closed her eyes and pulled it off with a sharp motion.
Then a voice came to her.
"Clara."
A gentle voice.
Her father from long ago…
A dull ache throbbed in one corner of her heart.
Why was she acting like this?
The father from that time had been dead and gone for ages.
So there was no need for Clara to feel fresh sorrow over 'today's death'.
"But, why."
Clara touched the portrait with trembling hands.
"Why..."
Resentment seeped into her whispered words.
"I really hate you."
Her clenched fist, formed without her realizing it, thumped against Rufus's portrait.
Still not venting her anger, Clara closed her eyes tightly and raised her fist high.
Thud.
But this time, her fist was enveloped by something soft.
"...?"
Clara barely managed to open her eyes.
Only then did she realize one thing.
That she was crying.
To the point where she couldn't properly distinguish the person before her.
Through blurred vision, black fabric swayed.
For a moment, she wondered if it was the Duke of Winchester, but…
"Marquis."
The other person was Adel Merriweather, wearing her black going-out dress.
She stood with her back to the portrait, holding Clara's fist in both hands.
"Why..."
Are you here?
She couldn't even finish asking the obvious question.
Because a sniffle came out first.
Anyway, it was a bit strange. Not Adel, but Clara herself.
This time too, she was glad for Adel's appearance.
It must be an extension of the suspension bridge effect.
"Um, well."
Adel, looking momentarily awkward, spoke.
"I did knock first. Though it seems you didn't hear."
That would make sense.
She hadn't been in the right state of mind.
"I heard some noise, so I took the liberty of opening the door. I thought it would be serious if something happened."
"I see..."
Clara quickly withdrew her hand and wiped her tears.
"It's nothing."
She knew it wasn't convincing.
But what else could she say?
'Come to think of it, was it today?'
The day Adel was leaving.
Seeing her holding Ori, that seemed to be the case. She must have come to return it before leaving.
"It doesn't seem like it."
"Hmm?"
"The 'it's nothing' part, that's a lie, right?"
"I-It's not."
"And saying that is also a lie."
As she said that, Adel placed Ori in Clara's arms.
As if knowing Clara needed this.
"Don't... bother with me. You're leaving anyway, right?"
"Well."
Adel, who had drawn out her words for a moment, gave a bitter smile.
"That's true."
"If you have no business, I'd appreciate it if you left quickly."
Clara tried her best to maintain an indifferent expression.
Though her lips kept puckering from the tears that threatened to escape.
"I don't... want to be with you."
So, tightly hugging Ori, she said coldly.
So Adel would get fed up and leave the room with peace of mind.
"..."
But contrary to expectations, Adel remained still in that spot.
Looking at Clara's tearful face with concern.
"I'd like to stay... together. Would I be in the way?"
No.
Her heart answered that way.
"Yes."
But her lips automatically chose a different answer.
Yet Adel…
"I'd like to propose a contract, Marquis."
Returning the exact words Clara had once said to her.
"Make me your legal guardian."
"...!"
For a moment, a startled Clara opened her eyes wide and looked at Adel.
Though her vision soon blurred again.
Clara hurriedly tried to wipe her tears with the back of her hand.
But this time, Adel cupped Clara's face and gently wiped the corners of her eyes with her thumb.
"As you said, Marquis, I am a Merriweather who hasn't accomplished anything."
Adel, who had been wiping away tears for a while, spoke quietly.
"Therefore, I don't belong to any interest group."
Clara just stared at Adel, her lips puckered.
"There will be backlash against me. But that's unavoidable no matter who is appointed."
Adel gently lifted Clara's chin to make her look at her.
"If so, choose me, who's easiest to use."
Adel said she would stay by her side.
Was the relief she felt at that answer because Clara's heart was still on a suspension bridge?
Or because the hand wiping her tears was so affectionate?
"Sniff."
Clara tried to say something, but this time she was truly blocked by tears.
"Take your time answering. I'm not going anywhere."
Saying that, Adel warmly embraced Clara.
After crying for a long while.
Raising her head, Clara stared fixedly at Adel with swollen eyes.
Though she had felt relief at the offer to become her guardian earlier, thinking about it again made her somewhat suspicious.
Could she have been instructed by someone in the meantime?
"What exactly is your intention? When it was time to clearly refuse before."
Apparently, she hadn't expected her to ask so directly.
Adel made a surprised expression and hesitated for a moment.
As expected, she must be hiding something…
"Because... you're like me."
For a moment, the barely returned whisper was almost inaudible.
But a deep loneliness could be felt somewhere.
Enough to make one corner of Clara's heart plummet momentarily.
Just as the atmosphere was about to become awkward.
Adel quickly waved both hands and corrected herself.
"No, I mean, you said you'd annul that terrible engagement for someone pitiful like me!"
Well, she had said that.
But was what she was about to say earlier really about that engagement?
"Also, you said you'd put my name in the noble registry."
Clara nodded.
"I don't particularly want to become a noble now, but if my name is listed, it will help you, Marquis."
The current marquisate was severely lacking in descendants.
If Clara were to lose her life immediately, the next person to inherit the title would be Adel's father.
But since he's practically disowned, it would likely go to another person with a sixth-degree relationship.
However, if Adel is registered, she becomes the next marquis. (Though due to her birth, the actual possibility of the title passing to her is slim.)
"For those aiming for the marquisate, nothing is more troublesome than having more targets appear."
"So what? Didn't you say you'd live a life unrelated to the Merriweathers now?"
"Of course I did! But..."
After hesitating, she soon exclaimed with shining eyes.
"Mo, money..."
"Huh?"
"I don't have money. I'm in no position to hire even one servant."
"..."
"Come to think of it, the house you said you'd give me is too good… If I don't accept this offer, I'll have to live in a nature-friendly house where spiders and mice run rampant."
It seemed she meant to earn a stake before leaving.
"Not bad."
Clara genuinely thought so.
If Adel had made the proposal based on some shallow adult pity, she would have absolutely refused.
People's hearts change, after all. Anyone's.
Father did.
The nursemaid did.
Didn't they all change?
But contractual terms with money as consideration don't betray you in any situation.
If someone tries to break the contract, you can claim penalty fees.
Clara liked that certainty.
But was it really okay to accept this contract?
"I understand your meaning. I'll need to think about it, though."
"That's fine. Shall I prepare it then?"
Prepare what?
"The bathwater. When you have worries, soaking in warm water is the best."
"Worries, what do you mean..."
As Clara was about to refuse, she remembered that 'father's portrait' was still behind Adel.
"Alright."
Clara urgently needed a bath.
If she washed her tear-stained face with warm water, she might feel a bit better.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Clara entered the tub prepared in her bedroom.
She had Ori sit on the chair beside the tub for now.
As the pleasant temperature enveloped her body, Adel, who had approached from behind and sat down, began slowly combing her hair.
Swish, swish.
A pleasant sound emerged.
Enough to make her eyes close naturally.
"You can sleep if you want."
"Did your mother do this for you too, Miss Adel?"
That woman didn't seem particularly delicate.
"I've been bathing alone since I was about three."
"That's too much."
From one thing, you can infer ten.
That woman probably didn't show much affection to Adel either.
"Mother was too busy loving herself."
That was exactly how Clara's father had been too.
Thinking only of himself until the very end of his life.
"Then you must have resented... your parents."
For some reason, Clara asked with an anxious heart.
"Probably? Though it's not complete resentment."
"What do you mean?"
Clara turned her body completely to look back at Adel.
"Probably because of memories of receiving something resembling affection."
Memories of affection.
Clara naturally recalled the moment she sat on her father's lap and learned about the family's honor.
"Even when I resented Mother endlessly, remembering that moment kept bringing my heart back to its place."
"..."
"And I wonder if the remnants of the affection received that day might still be... hidden somewhere in Mother's heart... I sometimes search for it alone and hope."
'Isn't it ridiculous? Not even knowing if it was real affection or not,' she laughed self-deprecatingly.
'Ah.'
And at the same time, Clara realized.