Chapter 26
The season had turned, leaving the academy grounds dry and brittle, the plants withering to a dusty hue as the cold wind grew harsher.
Bare branches were decorated with red flowers in honor of the Resurrection Festival, and students excitedly chattered about their plans for the upcoming break.
“What should I wear for the festival?”
The winter break surrounding the Resurrection Festival was short, but long enough for most students to visit home.
Diane had pestered Nerys into spending the break at her house, and after declining a few times, Nerys finally gave in.
She had no intention of returning to her hometown this winter anyway. This would be a good chance to observe high society in advance.
“I only have one dress nice enough for the festival.”
“Then let’s get a new one! The festival parties last an entire week. You can’t wear the same dress every day!”
Diane’s enthusiasm for the festivities amused Nerys.
When she had been the crown princess, she had been surrounded by luxury to the point of exhaustion.
Ordinary trinkets and garments no longer stirred even a hint of greed in her.
It was fortunate, really, given that she now had only a few coins to spend.
Diane, on the other hand, had been wealthy since birth and was at an age where curiosity ran rampant. She spent lavishly on clothes and all sorts of items.
“I don’t have that kind of money,” Nerys pointed out bluntly.
Diane, however, remained unbothered.
“Then why don’t you borrow one of mine for the party? You’re my guest—I should at least make sure you’re comfortable.”
For some, the idea of borrowing a peer’s clothes might have been offensive.
But Nerys didn’t care.
After a brief consideration, she replied,
“I have my own dress, so I’ll wear that. It’s not like I have to attend every party for the entire week, and I don’t mind wearing the same dress more than once. But thanks for the offer.”
Hearing that, Diane’s face fell slightly.
Only then did she seem to realize how her words might have sounded.
“I didn’t mean that wearing the same dress is bad. I’m sorry, Riz. I just… I just wanted to see you wear lots of cute dresses. You’d look adorable no matter what you wore.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
It was an odd sentiment.
What was the point of dressing someone else up in cute outfits?
Nerys was familiar with how nobles flaunted their status through extravagant attire, constantly changing outfits at every opportunity.
But Diane’s desire was different—it wasn’t about power, and it didn’t make sense to Nerys.
‘Even a girl like this…’
Even someone like Diane—could she be capable of cruelty?
In Nerys’s faint childhood memories, there wasn’t a single person who had been kind to her.
Not one who had spared her from disregard.
So Diane must have been one of the many who had wronged her.
And yet—
‘Why don’t I remember her?’
Nerys had never been particularly interested in other people.
Before her mid-teens, before being completely reshaped by bullying, her classmates had been mere background figures in her memory.
Only those with particularly strong impressions—like Angharad and Rhiannon—remained vivid.
But Diane? No matter how hard she tried to recall, there was nothing.
Had she switched academic tracks early? Why?
Or had something changed when she returned to the past?
It was a mystery, and an unsettling one at that.
She could muster instinctive hostility toward other classmates, but Diane…
Diane was different.
“Hey, Riz. What’s your favorite food? I’ll write home and have them prepare it for you. We cook a ton of food for the festival, so let’s eat lots of delicious things! Oh, and I’ll have them set up your bedding in your favorite color. Do you have a preference for fabrics?”
Nerys answered with a complex expression.
“I can sleep anywhere and eat anything.”
She had once slept in a pigsty under Abelus’s orders.
Back in school, Megara had forced her to consume things she wouldn’t dare name aloud.
After that, she no longer had the luxury of being picky about food or bedding.
If Diane knew what kind of places Nerys had slept in, what kind of things she had been forced to eat—
What kind of expression would she make?
What kind of reaction would she have?
—
“We’re home!”
Diane shrieked with excitement as she pointed to the beautiful estate in the distance.
Sitting across from her in the carriage, Nerys raised an eyebrow.
She knew the MacKinnon family was wealthy, but even from this distance, their ‘home’ was massive.
The carriage was passing through a large orchard road.
At various intervals, fence posts adorned with the family’s crest marked the boundaries, suggesting that the estate’s private land was beyond measure.
The main house, visible in the distance, featured an impressive gabled roof supported by grand columns in a classical style.
Its walls gleamed, stretching outward in two wings.
Beyond that, three large buildings surrounded an artificial lake, fed by diverted river water.
A separate lodging for the servants sat further away, large enough to house dozens.
Nearby, there were stables, barns, sheepfolds, and pigpens—each spaced out with ample land around them.
The vast open fields suggested that the MacKinnons owned an uncountable number of livestock.
“How long has your family lived here?”
At Nerys’s question, Diane tried—somewhat unsuccessfully—to keep her pride in check.
“Fifty years, I think? My great-grandfather bought the land and built the house on what used to be a gamekeeper’s cottage.”
“Impressive. It’s a beautiful home.”
Diane’s eyes gleamed with pride at the compliment, but then, a shadow passed over her expression.
A slight stiffening of her features—something rare for someone as self-assured as Diane.
Nerys narrowed her eyes.
Was there something she wanted to say?
Lowering her gaze slightly, Diane murmured in a small voice,
“Riz… would it be tacky for a family with such a short history to show off an expensive house?”
Nerys had braced herself for something serious.
But this?
She smiled lightly, utterly unfazed.
Even the members of this country’s oldest noble houses couldn’t match Diane’s natural confidence.
“What does the length of a family’s history have to do with the aesthetic value of their estate? Your home is beautiful. You should be proud of it.”
At those words, Diane grinned.
Her lake-clear eyes sparkled, as crisp and radiant as the grand MacKinnon estate outside the carriage window.
Sometimes, the bright and innocent nature of her peers was almost too dazzling for Nerys to look at directly.
“I really do love our home. Every year, during the Resurrection Festival, the entire first floor of the main house is decorated with red silk embroidered with flowers. When it snows, the candlelight at dinner makes both the snow and the embroidery glisten—it’s breathtaking.”
“Do you eat the festival dinner with just your family?”
“No, we have a lot of guests. I’m actually not supposed to join the adult’s dinner, but I used to sneak downstairs to watch.”
Diane laughed mischievously as she confessed.
Betty, who had been diligently attending to both girls during the journey, smiled wryly.
“Once you’re older, you’ll have no choice but to attend and host the festival dinner yourself, my lady.”
“That’s future me’s problem. Getting locked in the nursery was boring.”
In Bistor, nobles weren’t considered proper adults until they were around sixteen or seventeen—whenever their family deemed them ready.
Until then, they were kept out of formal gatherings, treated as children who needed to stay in the nursery and go to bed early under a nanny’s orders.
Nerys still remembered how strange that custom had seemed when she was first adopted into the Elandria family.
She half-agreed with both Betty and Diane.
“Attending social gatherings before debuting is good practice. That’s why the academy encourages students to host their own parties.”
“Yeah, like the pajama party! That was fun.”
On the night of Diane’s grand pajama party, Nerys had ended up playing card games with her until late.
Betty shuddered at the memory of the chaos from that night.
“Yes, it was fun.”
But unlike Diane, Nerys had appreciated that party for entirely different reasons.
If the servant hadn’t spilled a drink on Angharad’s ribbon that night, she would have had to be far more careful with her actions.
Of course, Betty had no idea about any of that.
She simply assumed that Nerys, being mature for her age, was patient and tolerant of her friend’s childish antics—something she wished her own lady could learn from.
“If the weather is clear, it might be fun to go horseback riding around the estate, Lady Nerys,” Betty suggested.
“Oh! That’s a great idea. I love horseback riding,” Diane chimed in excitedly.
Hearing their enthusiasm, Nerys hesitated for a moment.
Would this be an inconvenient request?
Before she could ask, Diane quickly added,
“I can’t ride alone, but my brother takes me. Or if the stable master leads the horse, I can go slowly.”
Diane had an older brother.
Of course, like Diane, Nerys had no memory of him from her previous life.
She imagined Diane dressed in a refined riding outfit, sitting in front of a faceless figure on a horse as they rode through the estate.
It was an oddly picturesque thought.
‘Diane’s brother… If he’s anything like her, he’s probably straightforward and a bit reckless.’
But since he had already graduated from the academy, he would likely be too busy entertaining guests to join them for casual outings.
That was the extent of Nerys’s curiosity.
She dismissed any further thoughts about Diane’s brother as the girl excitedly planned their upcoming activities.
“We ‘have’ to play ‘Hounds and Jackals’—I have a set at home! Oh, and let’s go outside and paint. During the day, we’ll have tea parties and dances with the other guests. ‘Hah!’ Heather Rayling won’t be able to say a single word once she sees you dance! I ‘have’ to tell her she was teaching me the wrong steps!”
“Heather Rayling?”
At the sudden mention of a familiar name, Nerys furrowed her brows.
Diane scoffed.
“She’s a guest from the Rayling Trading Company. Angelo Rayling’s daughter. She keeps trying to pick fights with me. Just because she’s older than me, she thinks she can act superior.”
Angelo Rayling.
At that name, Nerys’s expression darkened.
In her previous life, she had personally brought him into the Elandria family’s circle.
Naturally, she knew exactly what kind of man he was.
Arrogant, untrustworthy, willing to betray anyone for his own benefit.
Since both he and Count MacKinnon were merchants, it wasn’t surprising that he had been invited as a guest for the festival.
More importantly, at this point in time, Angelo had yet to become truly influential.
Bringing his daughter along to network with noble families wasn’t unusual—it was a calculated move.
“She picks fights with you?”
But the Rayling family weren’t nobles.
Neither in status nor in wealth could Heather possibly rival Diane.
Why, then, would she dare to provoke her?
It struck Nerys as odd.
Betty shook her head.
“My lady, you’re being too harsh on Miss Heather.”
“I am ‘not!’ You heard what she said to me last time!”
“I did, which is why I’m saying this. If I had misunderstood the situation, I’d be on your side completely, but everyone saw what happened at the seesaw, my lady.”
Nerys did not relax her frown.
She was well aware that Diane had a sharp side to her.
Just then, the sound of approaching hooves echoed from outside.
Diane, still sulking, turned away from Betty.
Sensing her mistress’s mood, Betty casually changed the subject.
“Looks like a guest has arrived. They’re riding rather quickly.”
The sound of galloping hooves grew louder.
Nerys glanced out the window with a calm expression.
The approaching rider slowed as they neared the carriage.
Then, suddenly, Diane’s face lit up, and she shouted,
“Brother!”
The carriage came to a halt, and the door swung open.
Sunlight streamed in, revealing a young man with long, dark brown hair tied back and a solemn face.
His expression was cold as ice.
Yet the way he looked at Diane was undeniably filled with warmth.
“Di.”
The young man took Diane’s right hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of it.
His movements were precise, formal, and perfectly executed.
Betty greeted him with a respectful nod.
“It’s been a while, Young Master Joyce.”
“Betty, thank you for taking care of my sister.”
Finally, Joyce MacKinnon’s gaze landed on Nerys.
His sharp eyes studied her with scrutiny.
Nerys felt a flicker of recognition.
She watched him carefully, waiting for him to nod first before introducing herself.
“Hello. I’m Nerys Truydd.”
