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IGF 3
Even as Roselyn spoke, her words sounding almost like a scream, Selena's expression didn't change in the slightest. She maintained the benevolent smile she often wore for Count Bluebell, slowly waving her fan.
“My dear Roselyn. While you were spending those idle years in comfort at the convent, your mother was always bustling about to protect the Count's estate.”
Selena frowned, speaking word by word as if scolding a truly naive daughter. As Selena continued, Roselyn's face began to turn pale.
“Have you forgotten that the deferment of the title succession lasts until you reach adulthood? You must hurry and marry, if only to keep from losing the estate. That is why I have already found a husband for you. All you have to do is have a happy wedding. Isn't that wonderful? Hmm?”
“Finding a husband to succeed the title upon reaching adulthood is my prerogative! Besides, there is still a year left until the deadline—what do you mean, a wedding? I hope I misheard you, Countess.”
“Calling your mother 'Countess.' I sent you to the convent to learn manners and dignity, yet you remain exactly the same.”
Selena shook her head, her eyebrows drooping in a mock expression of sadness, but a faint sneer lingered on her lips. It seemed that seeing Roselyn flustered and despairing brought her unparalleled joy. Selena's greenish-yellow eyes sparkled with delight. She leaned in closer, as if wanting to see Roselyn's devastated face in greater detail.
“My child. Your mother has relieved you of the burden of choosing a husband. Instead of embracing me in gratitude, you raise your voice. I am deeply concerned about how your husband will ever put up with someone like you.”
“This... this is nonsense.”
To think a husband had been chosen and a wedding prepared without her knowledge. Selena was insane. Roselyn staggered, covering her mouth with trembling hands. She had forgotten for a moment. Since her father's passing, her stepmother's only joy had been watching her suffer.
Just when had she started planning this? From the moment she realized Roselyn's adulthood was approaching? Or from the very moment her father died?
Roselyn felt a surge of self-loathing for not anticipating such a thing. If she had found her own husband and inherited the title and assets, the power dynamic between her and Selena would have reversed. Anticipating this, Selena had found a man to her own liking and paired him with Roselyn. By coaxing a man whose interests aligned with hers with the promise of becoming Count Bluebell, Selena had sold Roselyn off. In exchange, Selena would become the Dowager Countess, continuing to enjoy everything she had as the Countess.
But even if she had known, how could she have prepared? She was in a position where she couldn't take a single step outside the convent, a powerless existence who had to rely on the drifting rumors of outsiders for any news of high society and social circles.
However, she had absolutely no intention of quietly going through with the wedding. The pain of her nails digging into her palms as she clenched her fists barely brought her back to her senses. I have to get out of here. As Roselyn abruptly stood up and stepped back, Selena burst into a cackle, as if finding her reaction utterly delightful.
“Where do you think you're going, Roselyn? Merien!”
“Yes, Madam.”
The head maid, Merien, entered as if she had been waiting. Selena gave a nod of satisfaction as the head maid immediately seized Roselyn's arm.
“It seems Roselyn hasn't recovered from the fatigue of her journey. Her mental state seems to have deteriorated further; what a pity. Take her to her room at once.”
“Understood, Madam.”
“Let go of me!”
“You there. Come and assist the young lady.”
At Merien's command, three or four other maids rushed in and gripped Roselyn firmly. No matter how much she struggled, she could not overcome the combined strength of several maids as she was practically dragged away.
“Please stay still, My Lady. Yes?”
One of the maids, annoyed by Roselyn's struggling, gripped her arm violently and shook her. After struggling to drag her along, the maids opened the door and practically threw her into the room. She immediately tried to open the door, but the door, which had been locked from the outside in an instant, showed no sign of opening.
“...This is crazy. Absolutely insane.”
She was so overwhelmed by absurdity and misery that she couldn't even cry. She rushed to the window to see if she could escape, but since it was the top floor, it wasn't a height she could descend even by tying bedsheets together. Confirming she was completely isolated, Roselyn slumped to the floor.
Everyone in the Count's estate was monitoring Roselyn. She tried every possible way to escape the mansion, but all her attempts ended in failure. The maids who brought meals to her room always moved in groups of three. When the dressmakers came to take her measurements, nearly ten maids surrounded the room. Convinced that even her slightest gesture was being watched, Roselyn had to abandon the idea of asking the dressmaker for help.
Strangely, no tears came. It would be more accurate to say she had no time to cry. As repeated resignation became her daily routine, her will to resist gradually vanished. In between preparing for the wedding, Selena visited Roselyn to fuel her frustration.
And when there was only one day left until the wedding, Selena's poisonous words echoed loudly in Roselyn's ears all day long.
「If you don't marry quietly, I will have no choice but to sell this mansion and the title to someone else along with you. If you don't want to become the second wife of a low-ranking noble over sixty, behave yourself. If you continue to rebel, you will never get back the necklace and papers that were your mother's keepsakes.」
There is no one to help you, Roselyn. The best you can do is behave exactly as I tell you. Selena intimidated her almost as if she were brainwashing her. The walls Roselyn had tried so hard to build around herself were slowly crumbling.
Roselyn sat on the bed with her knees pulled up, staring blankly with her face buried. The wind, which had grown warmer over the past few days, tickled her hair through the small open window, but she felt nothing. She couldn't hear the birds chirping as the ice melted, nor the sound of the gardeners' shears as they busied themselves in the garden.
She remained curled up in a stupor until the sun began to set, and when she finally lifted her head, someone was shaking her awake.
“...My Lady. My Lady!”
“Hmm.”
“Sir Isaac has arrived. Please wake up.”
“Isaac?”
Who was that again? As Roselyn blankly repeated the name, her lips stiffened. Isaac—that was the name of the man Selena had assigned as her husband. She recalled hearing he worked in the royal guard. She had heard he was returning after finishing border defense, and it seemed he had finally arrived.
“He said he wished to meet you before the wedding. The Madam is also waiting with him. Please get up.”
The maid helped Roselyn to her feet. Other maids changed her into the new indoor clothes they had brought. Perhaps because she was so mentally exhausted, she felt no curiosity about the man who was to be her husband. Roselyn simply stared blankly out the window with glazed eyes. Realizing that it was well past dinner time and that no one had even offered her a meal while she was shut in her room all day, a fresh wave of loneliness washed over her.
Regardless of Roselyn's expressionless state, the maids were busy. They applied blush to her face, which had lost its color over the last few days, and neatly combed her smooth, honey-colored hair, tying it loosely. Even with such minimal adornment, Roselyn was dazzlingly beautiful.
Once the preparations were complete, the maids practically pushed her toward the drawing room. As Roselyn entered, the two people who were having tea turned to look at her in unison.
“You've come. This is Sir Isaac Holton, the man who will be your husband as of tomorrow. Why don't you greet him?”
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