17. Engagement to the Ducal House
My father, as was required of him, signed the engagement papers. He had left everything concerning me to my stepmother until now, but this document required his signature.
The reason was that, upon my engagement, I was to be taken into the ducal household to devote myself to the necessary bridal training.
This was different from the preparations of a commoner. It was bridal training for interacting with members of the royal family and nobles of a higher rank than a count, which would sometimes even involve matters of diplomacy.
I was facing my father in his study, across his large office desk. He looked over the documents and signed them without hesitation.
“…Sheryl.”
I wondered how long it had been since I last heard that voice.
It was a hoarse voice, one that seemed to have aged considerably since I last heard it. And yet, it was also the same voice that had called my name so long ago.
“Be… happy. …I love you, and I always will. If you ever face hardship, you can always come home. At that time… I will be the one to protect you.”
He spoke haltingly, like someone who had been unable to speak for a very long time.
Tears streamed down his face as he handed the documents to me.
I wished he would stop. I had grown so accustomed to the distance between us. I had thought that just seeing him look at me on the day of my debut was more than enough.
“I will be happy, without fail. So please, Father… do not worry. And I have a request… Father, please, love and protect Mother and Jule far, far more than you ever showed me.”
I could not bring myself to simply accept my father’s words. Of course I couldn’t. We hadn’t spoken in years. Even if he said he would protect me now, the one who had actually done so was my stepmother.
And I could not forgive a father who showed no love to the stepmother who had raised Jule and me with such affection.
“I’m sorry… That promise, I will absolutely keep.”
My father pressed his fingers to the corners of his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. He looked so much older now. But I found some reassurance in his final words.
Thank you for loving me. But there is an irretrievable distance between us now. Because the one who was always protecting me was my mother.
I accepted the documents, gave a formal curtsy, and left the office. A few tears escaped as I stood outside the door, but I wiped them away and went to find my stepmother and Jule.
I showed them the papers and told them the engagement was official. Jule offered his heartfelt congratulations and, saying it wouldn’t be permitted later, kissed my cheek like he did when he was a child.
I shared an embrace with my stepmother, the woman who had been protecting me all this time without my ever knowing.
I had the documents sent over, and soon, a corresponding set arrived from their side. The engagement was formally established.
…
I began my preparations to leave the house. In three days, I would move into the ducal estate.
There was no point in taking the furniture, but my wardrobe was filled with respectable clothes, so I decided to take them… and I couldn’t forget my cosmetics. When they ran out, I would have to buy more for myself.
My reflection, busy at work, looked back at me from the hand-me-down dresser that had belonged to my real mother.
Perhaps it was because I was loved by Hugues, or perhaps it was because I had overheard my stepmother’s confession, but I no longer felt any emotion about my face, whether it was pretty or not.
No, I still think I’m unattractive. The curse of those words doesn’t fade so easily. But it’s more accurate to say that, at unexpected moments, I’ve started to see my real mother in my reflection.
The real mother I remembered was a beautiful person.
Reflected in the mirror is, without a doubt, the ‘unattractive’ me. But at the same time, it is my ‘beautiful real mother.’
It was a strange sensation. I wonder if I will ever be able to ask my stepmother.
—“Am I truly that ugly?”