THNW 05

To My Husband’s New Wife Chapter : 05

Anita has no friends her age.

Of course, before she moved to this house, she wasn’t alone either.

That place had been her long-standing hometown, where they had lived since the days of her grandfather’s father.

All of Anita’s world existed in that city—relatives, teachers, and friends included.

Though the family’s roots were there, her father did not hold that city dear.
[Vincent!

Our family’s trade began in this city.

It’s still too soon.

Do you not know that it would be no trouble at all to move the city in your children’s generation?]
[No, Uncle.

Your thinking is wrong.

Before it’s too late, we have to leave for a great metropolis with a massive port like Shabalon.]
[Why are you being so reckless!]
[Even the silver mine here has run dry, so there’s no need to stay.

If we go somewhere with many people, we’ll be able to gain far more information, far more quickly.]
[Vincent!

Come back at once!

The fortune the elders of the house gathered with their blood and sweat, you’ll do as you please….]
[The one doing as he pleases with the fortune isn’t me—it’s you and the other elders!

I’ve no intention of watching it happen any longer.

Don’t try to stop me.]
Everyone opposed him, but in the end, Father left their hometown behind and moved to this city.

It had happened only two years ago.
“My father doesn’t have a title.

So the other children don’t want to spend time with me.”
After arriving here in Shabalon, Father threw himself into forging ties with the nobility.

At first, Anita hadn’t held much prejudice toward the status of “nobles,” but now, she did not.

Nobles regarded them as something like filthy, foolish livestock.

Pure hostility, felt for the first time in her life.

That hostility dealt Anita no small shock.
“S-so….”
Don’t be kind—if you’re going to leave, then leave quickly.

Silence fell over the room.

An awkward, quiet atmosphere settled in, so embarrassing it made her think she might have said something she shouldn’t have.

It was Claudnia who broke the stillness.
“I live in the Kingdom of Hespain, not here.

I come here to Shabalon once a year, but I have no friends, so I have to spend time with that socially maladjusted person.

It’s a truly dreadful season.”
With a bright smile, she squeezed both of Anita’s hands tight.
“I was just about to go crazy.

This is perfect, Anita!

From now on, play with me!”
“…With me?”
“Yeah!

I’m your first friend, Anita.

Right?

Right?

Aren’t I?”
At some point, a piece of the nurse’s cookie—she didn’t even know when it had been taken out—vanished into Claudnia’s mouth.
“But this is really good.

Where did you buy it?

Can’t you tell me so I can get it too?”
She spoke so fast there wasn’t even time to answer.

Claudnia looked at her with eyes sparkling like dew gathered on blades of grass.
“You know, I had sooo many things I wanted to do together once I made a friend in Shabalon!

First, I want to ride the Ferris wheel next to the fountain plaza together, and then after that, at that wonderful restaurant next to the Ferris wheel….”
Claudnia’s lips, which had been chattering without pause, swallowed a third cookie.

Did I hear wrong?

A friend?

She says she’ll be friends with me, the one everyone avoided as dirty?

That was when it began.

From that day on, Anita spent late winter every year at the Edenbahir ducal residence in Shabalon.

In the vast, beautiful paradise where Claudnia and Lancelot waited, where red poinsettias bloomed.
“Anita!

Anita’s here, Lancelot!

Waaah.

How come you haven’t grown at all even though it’s been a year?”
Claudnia’s greeting always began with a fierce hug.

To Anita, she was a tiny golden bird, chirping a lovely song.
“Look at this map.

While I was waiting for you this morning, Lancelot and I played a game guessing country names, and I got nine out of ten wrong.”
“Really?

Who did?”
“Me!”
With Claudnia, everything was always fun, lively, and full of energy.

No matter how serious a problem was, beside Claudnia it became a trivial worry.
“Lancelot must’ve found it really hard too.

Right, Lancelot…?”
But Lancelot was a little different.
“Hey.

Anita’s asking you.

Answer her.”
He didn’t seem to welcome Anita.

It was an attitude anyone with eyes would read that way.
“Ugh.

He’s always like that.

Forget it, let’s play by ourselves!”
“But….”
“I said forget it.

He’s weak anyway, so he can’t go out.

It rained yesterday, so let’s go find earthworms hibernating for winter and play with those.”
Was that why?

Anita found Lancelot a rather difficult existence.

Even sharing the same space, he treated her like she wasn’t there, and even when they spoke to him, he only answered reluctantly, making it plain he was annoyed.
“Cough.”
When he was down with a severe fever-cold, unless he was deeply asleep, they couldn’t even so much as approach him.

Father explained that if your body was weak, you couldn’t help being sensitive, and Anita understood completely.

But there was a period when he was sick for especially long.

That winter, Lancelot was particularly so.

Though it wasn’t her illness, Anita felt unsettled in the corner of her heart, and though no one had asked her to, she brought a stew she had cooked herself to Lancelot.

It was a stew she’d made while reading the room among the anxious kitchen maids.
“Um, if you’re sick, will you try eating a little of this stew?

It’s a stew my father makes for us sometimes.

It has ginger in it, so….”
“I’m not eating it.”
She expected it, but it was an even more razor-sharp refusal than she’d expected.

Had she grown used to that cold wind, whistling attitude, at some point?

Anita calmly set the bowl of stew on the table.
“It’s tastier than you’d think.

There’s not much to chew, so it’ll be easy to swallow.”
But Lancelot didn’t even turn his head, fixing his gaze on his book.
“Just in case… I’ll leave it here.”
About thirty minutes must have passed.

While she was doing a puzzle with Claudnia in the next room, a maid’s voice came through.
“Did you call for me, Young Master?”
“Clear that stew.

It stinks.”
In that moment, she was a little—just a little—startled, and the hand that had been sorting the scattered puzzle pieces stiffened.

But she soon collected herself.
‘When you’re really sick, you don’t have an appetite, and your stomach feels off.

Maybe I just made something burdensome for him.’
Let’s not take it to heart.

Kindness isn’t kindness if you expect something in return.

You never know—maybe Lancelot hates ginger more than anything.

As always, it was only Claudnia who vented her dissatisfaction on Anita’s behalf.
“Ugh.

I told you, didn’t I?

I said he’d never eat it.

He hates anything noisy, anything smelly, anything even a little bit boisterous—he just hates it all.”
Anita smiled awkwardly at her friend.
“Maybe he feels even worse today.

He might not be used to food like that.”
“Does he think he’s some great prince!

Well… his status is practically on par with a prince, but… still, he’s not a prince!”
It was when Claudnia was grinding her teeth and hopping around for a long while as if she were the one being slighted.

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the door.
“Claudnia.”
Anita sprang up even more hurriedly than Claudnia, whose name had been called.

It was the Duke of Edenbahir.
“Claudnia, Anita.

The Dowager Duchess has arrived.

Come out and pay your respects.”
The Dowager Duchess?

Claudnia rose slowly, dusting off her knees, her expression noticeably neither happy nor uncomfortable.
“The Dowager Duchess is my mother’s mother, and also Uncle’s mother.

Uncle and she have an aaaawful relationship, so when you address her, you have to call her the Dowager Duchess.

That’s a secret, okay?”
Her mother’s mother, and Edenbahir Uncle’s mother….
‘So she means the Duke of Edenbahir’s mother.’
Then it was someone Anita, staying here, ought to greet as well.

The two headed to the drawing room where the family elder would be waiting.

The Dowager Duchess was, spoken well of, very aristocratic, and spoken ill of, she gave a rather prickly impression.

Was that why?

Without even exchanging a single word, bad memories tried to resurface.

Those voices that had degraded her as a mongrel.
‘No, it’s fine.

It’s rude to think negatively of someone you’re meeting for the first time.

I just need to be careful.’
Claudnia, who had hopped over, greeted the Dowager Duchess brightly.
“Hello, Dowager Duchess!”
A gentle smile bloomed on the Dowager Duchess’s face, which had been nothing but cold.
“You’ve grown so much, Claudnia.

Now it wouldn’t be lacking to call you a proper young lady.”
See—first impressions really are just first impressions.

Thanks to the Dowager Duchess’s kind response, a little courage she hadn’t had before rose up.
“Thank you!

This is my friend.

Say hello, Anita.”
“Hello.

I’m Anita Beulroeniy….”
It wasn’t what she intended.

And yet Anita couldn’t bring herself to finish her first greeting.

Not even a glance.

The Dowager Duchess passed by her as naturally as if she neither saw nor heard Anita at all.

It was unmistakable disregard.