I discreetly inserted Anais O’Brien’s shawl into the laundry of the temporary maids. After two days, it became a very soft and rose-scented item
O’Brien’s elegance and the roses seemed to complement each other perfectly. So I wanted to reward Fatima, but she refused to accept gold coins, even if it meant her death. I had already given her cookies last time, so I ended up tightly hugging Fatima’s small head.
Sweet little Fatima jumped up and down with joy after receiving my embrace. In Nadon, it seemed that showing affection among family members through hugs or kisses was not common. I understand a little now why Edgar Ramos’s siblings turned out the way they did.
I wandered almost everywhere in the academy while looking for Anais O’Brien. I even thought about sending the shawl wrapped as a present to her door, but I refrained, fearing it would be mistaken for a gift from one of her suitors.
I also wanted to tell her in person that she matched the scent of roses. Anais O’Brien, perhaps because she came from a clerical family, always carried a fragrance reminiscent of the temple’s incense. Of course, it didn’t diminish her beauty, but in my opinion, with the rose scent, she would look almost like a blooming flower.
Plus, I heard from Bree that the symbol of Duke O’Brien is a rose. What a perfect combination!
I finally found O’Brien in a corner of the secluded area behind the dormitory. You had to look closely to notice it because it was hidden by tall bushes and garden trees. Being out of breath from my pursuit, instead of getting close to O’Brien, I tried to call her name out loud.
However, something was odd. Why was there a man with her? His appearance and clothing were not that of a student.
During the Love Month Festival, it wasn’t uncommon to see female students with male companions, but if that female student was Anais O’Brien, who had never been involved in any love affair rumors at Fitzsimmons, it would be a different matter. Even more so if the man she’s with looked to be in his forties.
“Anna,” he said arrogantly, “My beautiful and delicate Anais. Graduation is approaching, yet you still act so immature, just like you did at the O’Brien estate. You are no longer the rosebud of O’Brien, and I am no longer your tutor.”
If I’d heard that from my tutor, I’d have let Dalton’s tomboy teach him how mature I would become when I picked up a sword. But O’Brien’s rosebud didn’t do that. She just helplessly embraced the man.
“If I enter a monastery, I cannot be your wife, teacher. You said you would take me to Valea, a place where flowers bloom all year round and a lake that shimmers like gold.”
The thin, drawn-out voice that followed shocked me to the point that my eyes almost popped out. Anais O’Brien? Really? Not a dashing gentleman, not someone of high status, and not even kind, but instead, an old and unattractive man?
“Ah, of course, I will. You can’t do anything without me.”
I only briefly heard him speak, but I already knew that I would not like him for the rest of my life. He belonged to the kind of people who constantly express narrow-minded opinions, disregarding the potential of those more talented than themselves, all while trying to bolster their self-esteem. To that kind of person, the curse that even if they fell backward, they would break their noses* was all I would give.
*(It is a metaphorical saying that people with bad luck have bad things that don’t even happen to ordinary people. So basically, Ariel was cursing him to have bad luck beyond the norm.)
“That’s right. I am a rosebud waiting for you to water it. Please teach me how I can be Mrs. Donnelly.”
Being bullied for so long by a vile man who deserves every misfortune in this world clouds the eyes of even the most intelligent person. I knew this well because my maid, Maddy, was a living example of it. It took her more than 10 years to finally free herself from a man who looked like a roughly shaved potato and swung his fists at his wife when drunk.
“No matter what happens, you should never marry a man who makes you feel like an irredeemable piece of trash.”
I remembered her words as she stroked my cheek with her wrinkled hand.
“No one can undermine a young lady’s worth, not even herself.”
Anais O’Brien didn’t have to become a nun if she didn’t want to, and she didn’t have to take an old man’s surname to do so. She could, and should, go to the shimmering golden waters of Lake Valea without asking anyone’s permission.
But I only exchanged words with her once or twice to just intrude into their secret affair scene and convince Anais O’Brien. Her twisted perceptions, hardened over the years, could only be broken by a stronger, more trustworthy hand.
I returned to the dormitory and wrapped O’Brien’s shawl neatly, then went to the second floor, where her room was, and placed it in such a way that the door could not be opened without picking it up.
I taped a large piece of paper to the top—an invitation that looked almost exactly like the one I’d once drawn in Elizabeth McCarthy’s Monster Biology textbook. Only this time, guests didn’t have to bring their own Four Elements potato chips. Having eaten too much at the last salon, I’m fed up with it.
***
There were no surprises. Despite the participation of the most eccentric candidates in Fitzsimons’ history, Rosemary Blossom was crowned the “Queen of the Banquet.”
To be precise, Kyle received the most votes, but when Madame Bartlett, the director of the academy, did not accept the existence of “Kylie,” he gladly handed over the crown to Blossom. So, strictly speaking, she wasn’t “officially” chosen, but regardless, she won the title.
I could tell from the front row how delighted Blossom was when Kyle placed the crown given to the ‘Queen of the Banquet’, on her head.
Honestly, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect the slightest when Madame Bartlett handed Kyle the right to choose the queen. After all, I was his closest friend, and if I were in the same position, I would have picked Kyle without a moment’s hesitation (regardless of whether or not he was more worthy of being the “King of the Banquet”—Cheesy? Perhaps, but that’s how most decisions in society are made).
But for him, the Queen of the Banquet was Blossom. The same Rosemary Blossom who hated Ariel Dalton so much that she tried to kill her. That day, I reconsidered the hypothesis that I had discarded before. Was Kyle Villard in love with Rosemary Blossom?
Maybe he was. Perhaps it could have been his fate to obey Blossom. Thinking that way made me feel better, and as someone who had the advantage of being thick-skinned, there was no reason for me not to think so.
So instead of showing any sign of sulking, I applauded enthusiastically. And it wasn’t just because Christa Edwards, the head reporter of the Fitzsimmons Times, was staring at me. Moreover, no matter which method she used, ‘Queen of the Banquet’ was Rosemary Blossom’s achievement. No one had the right to take it away from her, not even me.
But I did have the right to be quietly jealous. Despicably, like a third-rate villainous supporting character in one of Blossom’s romance novels. I dipped my jelly-topped crackers into the chocolate fountain—my very own and only achievement.
“Just now, Camden Bowman dipped his feet there.”
“Ueghh.”
I threw the cracker I was about to put in my mouth. Kyle pointed alternately between me and the fountain, laughing.
“Oh, Ari. If you’re going to play a prank like this, you should have done it with me. If you turn water into chocolate, I’ll turn some of the chocolate into sprinkles. Then the crackers would have tasted better.”
“You know that the moment you started talking about Bowman, you could no longer talk about taste, right?”
A magic doll with a broom and dustpan came over to pick up the crackers I had thrown away. I moved my foot slightly to give it space and let it do its job.
“Besides, I didn’t do this.”
“I’d rather believe the rumour that Professor Monaghan has a girlfriend.”
“Nonsense! That person is a weirdo who is only attracted to monsters!”
“Undoubtedly, if Professor Monaghan saw a troll and me drowning at the same time, he’d save the troll. But in my long life, it’s not like there weren’t any possibilities of that happening.”
“In my long life”… Kyle didn’t pronounce those words normally. It probably didn’t only refer to the nineteen years since he was born.
“What were the possibilities?”
“I’ll tell you the funniest one. It only happened once, but it was when Professor Stafford became Lana Monaghan.”
“No way! When did that happen in your ‘long life’?”
I didn’t see Kyle’s expression as I drank up the grape juice that overflowed from the goblet, but his voice sounded very lonely.
“You don’t want to know.”
I only have memories of my six 5th grades. However, despite their limited number, those memories deeply affected me, and even now, I can’t claim that I have completely recovered from them. Since there’s no other option but to confront them, all I can do is pretend to be strong and act tough.
Kyle probably spent much more time at Fitzsimons than I did. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how helpless he must have felt.
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