1. I Got a New Mother
I stood in the rain, wearing a black dress and black shoes, clinging to the leg of Count Muzel… my father.
Even at three years old, I understood. My mother, the one who had always smiled so warmly at me, was now sleeping inside a cold stone coffin buried in the earth. And she would never wake up again.
It happened while she was out shopping—a carriage, steered by a drunkard, had swerved onto the walkway. It was that kind of accident. It was all so sudden that neither Father nor I even had the chance to be by her side.
We had no need for an umbrella. Both Father and I simply let the rain wash our tears away.
A year later, my father married a new mother. She was what the maids called a “stepmother.”
She was nineteen, and to my young eyes, a truly beautiful grown woman. I couldn’t understand why she would become the “second wife”—another word I’d picked up from the maids—to my father. He was handsome, to be sure, but he had to be over thirty.
The mourning period was over, but she wore a stunning black dress with red accents. With her black hair and ruby-like eyes, she was a beautiful person, and the red lipstick she wore suited her perfectly.
“Sheryl, give your greetings. This is Linaria. From today, she will be your stepmother. From now on, you will listen carefully to what Linaria says and obey her without question.”
A year had passed since my mother’s death. In that time, Father had grown distant, avoiding me. Our meal times for breakfast and dinner were staggered, and it was the head maid who saw to all my needs. This was the first time I had even seen his face in days.
And now, this young stepmother had appeared so suddenly. The maids did not look pleased, but her ruby eyes were fixed on me, smiling gently.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Sheryl Muzel. I am in your care.”
I wasn’t sure if I should call her Okaasama or by her name, so I decided to avoid calling her anything until I knew her preference.
At that moment, I had no particular impression of this stepmother, good or bad. Time passes much more quickly for a child than it does for an adult. It wasn’t that I didn’t still think of my mother who had passed away, but I felt no desire to reject this new one.
“My, you truly are an unattractive child, aren’t you?”
Those were the first words that came from her petal-like lips, painted in crimson, all while she smiled at me with gentle eyes.
I was so stunned, I froze. My mother… my real mother… had always held me close, calling me “my sweet Sherrie.” But now, this young stepmother, this woman smiling so gently, had just declared to my face that I was unattractive.
“I’d like you to call me Okaasama. It’s a pleasure to know you, Sheryl.”
How was I supposed to take that?
My mind was reeling, but my father didn’t reprimand my stepmother for her words. Could it be? Was the reason he avoided me… because I was unattractive?
“Yes… Okaasama.”
“What a clever girl. From now on, let’s have our meals and our tea together. You must have been so lonely all by yourself until now.”
And with that, my new mother, the one who had just called me unattractive, knelt down and pulled my small body into a hug.
She was soft and warm. And she smelled nice.
If someone so beautiful and gentle said it, then it must be true. I must not be attractive.
But she had also called me clever. If I was a good girl, and if I obeyed her without question as Father had told me to, then maybe things would get a little better.
And from that day forward, my mismatched, contradictory life began.
T/N:
Okaasama: Highly respectful and formal Japanese term for “mother,”