Vermeer looked back and forth between me and Hilda, his expression somehow conflicted. Like he was troubled yet incredulous—like a younger brother whose beloved older sister had been stolen away.
"You two just met today, right? You seem close, as if you've known each other for years."
"Of course. Sir Streit is different from boring men. He said dipping feet in the lake and racing horses are wonderful hobbies. Unlike you and His Highness."
"Haa, those aren't typical pastimes for a lady. I was only giving you advice."
Aha, so the reason Hilda had warmed to me was mainly that I'd shown appreciation for her hobbies. In truth, this era's feminine ideal was obedient, demure, and one of demanding one-sided sacrifice. It was a patriarchal society, so women's rights were abysmal.
