13. Am I Imagining Things?
Okaasama’s training was intense, but thanks to her, by Friday I felt I had achieved a face that was at least presentable.
He had said it was with marriage in mind. If we get married, I’ll have to wake up early every day and, at the very least, put on this face. It’s rare to find a man who is so naturally handsome, but to think that I would be the one to stand by his side…
It was a little late for it, but a sense of fear began to creep in.
(Tomorrow… what if he’s disappointed in me? No, it’s alright. He knew me when I was ten, and he still chose me.)
I repeated it to myself over and over in my mind. It’s alright.
The girl in the mirror isn’t pretty. She’s just become a little more presentable. If… if he were to break things off with me after seeing this, then it would be the arranged marriage with the man my stepmother mentioned.
I wonder what he’s like. Perhaps a man so lecherous he’d take anyone? Or maybe someone from a merchant family, not a noble. I’m good at embroidery, but I wish I had learned more practical skills, like cooking.
The dark thoughts wouldn’t leave my head. I had already decided on my clothes and shoes for tomorrow. The maids would do my hair. Tomorrow… Hugues would see the real, grown-up me.
There was no point in dwelling on it. I had managed to make my face somewhat presentable, and I had to be content with that. I couldn’t change my original face, after all.
I removed my makeup, took a bath, and drank a calming herbal tea before getting into bed. I couldn’t show him a face made even worse by a lack of sleep.
…
When I woke the next morning, my mood had cleared somewhat. I put on my day clothes, got ready, and went down for breakfast. Jule and Okaasama were there, and the morning began as it always did.
As we chatted, the conversation naturally turned to my date today. Jule was full of curiosity, and I just laughed and told him not to tease me. Okaasama was smiling, too.
(Wait a minute…?)
And then, it dawned on me.
Ever since the day of my societal debut, Okaasama hadn’t called me “unattractive” even once. This morning, the maid who came to wake me had simply complimented me, saying, “Your complexion is so lovely today, you look very beautiful.”
I had still been half-asleep, so I had just thanked her, but… it felt strange.
That being said, I didn’t want to ask Okaasama about it directly and risk being called “unattractive” on the day of my date.
Today, too, I couldn’t muster the courage.
…
That evening, Lord Hugues was already waiting at our meeting spot. He was a man who looked picturesque no matter where he was. …Was someone as unattractive as me really a suitable match for him?
But I had not been raised to voice such thoughts. Self-deprecation is not something to be shown to others, especially not to the person who chose you as a partner… as a future spouse.
“Have I kept you waiting?”
“Not at all, you are right on time. —You look beautiful again today, Lady Sheryl.”
As he escorted me from the carriage, he praised me with a heart-melting smile.
My pale beige dinner dress, which shimmered softly in the light, had sheer, embroidered fabric from the neckline to the sleeves, with pleats flowing down from the bust. I had chosen a modest color and design since the actors on stage were the main event, but Lord Hugues was flawless when it came to complimenting me.
He praised me at every opportunity, making my cheeks turn red. I would start to say, “I’m not worthy of such praise,” but would close my mouth, smile so as not to be rude, and thank him instead.
“We’ll walk a little. It’s not far, but please, take my arm.”
“Thank you, Lord Hugues.”
“Lady Sheryl, please, call me Hugues.”
“…Then, please, call me Sheryl.”
The transition to dropping our titles was so natural it caught me off guard, but I supposed this was how these things went, and I agreed.
The twilight illuminated Hugues’s face as he turned to me, casting it in a soft, blushing glow. The faint red on his cheeks… was I imagining it, or was it just the setting sun?
“I have been waiting for the day I could call you by your name for so long, Sheryl.”
“Ah… th-thank you. Hugues.”
For a moment, he looked like a big, golden dog. One with an exceptionally beautiful coat.
It was embarrassing to call each other by our first names. But it lit a warm, candle-like flame deep in my chest.
Before long, we arrived at the restaurant where he had apparently made reservations. I looked at the other patrons and felt a sense of relief; my dinner dress didn’t seem out of place.
We went up to the second floor and sat facing each other at a table by the window. Since we were seeing a play afterward, we refrained from alcohol and simply enjoyed the meal.
…I felt that many of the dishes were my favorite foods. But perhaps I was just imagining things?