—Ah, what a nice story. I'm glad it had a happy ending. Hehe… A prince.
—Um, was there something funny about the story?—The White-Haired Girl's eyes widened.
—No, no, that's not why I was laughing. … Do you ever imagine what it would be like if a prince showed up for you?
—Huh?
—It doesn't have to be a real prince–even just someone like one. Is that something you dream about?
—Oh, no, um…—Her gaze fell to the floor.—I think I'm… perhaps a little too old for that.
—You think so? Nellie still fantasizes about her prince, and she's fourteen. I just assumed all girls were the same.
—Lady Nellie's prince…—A tiny smile appeared on her face.—That's you, Lord Mell, no?
—Wha–
—Is it not?
—I mean, we used to play make-believe a lot when we were kids, but I very much doubt she still thinks of me that way in earnest. When she calls me her prince now, it's mostly in jest. If it weren't…—Seeing no reaction to his words.—that would be concerning.
—Oh?
—Uh… That story–do you know if it's a regional tale? One that's been passed down through the ages.
—I am not sure. It could very well be of my father's own creation. Um… you might think me conceited… but I think the story might be about me.
—The girl trapped in the mansion is you? Y-You haven't been locked up anywhere before, have you?!
—N-No, thankfully… I have never been locked up before.
—Thank goodness.—His expression lightened.
—But with an appearance like mine… I can sympathize with her being afraid of the outside world. I have, at times, imagined how wonderful life would be… if it were only me and my father.
—But the girl left the house in the end.—Mell said after a small silence.—If your father really wrote that story, then I believe it contains his hope for you to end up the same way.
—Oh?
—I don't have what it takes to be a real prince and whisk you away, but… I can at least pretend. So if it was your father's wish for you to see the outside world… then surely there's nothing wrong with you getting out and experiencing all the scenery that world has to offer. I want to see the outside too.—He smiled warmly.—Or, to be more specific, other countries. So… so, uh… If you'd like, we… could maybe go see distant lands together–
—Ahh, dearest Mell!—Nellie appeared like out of nowhere.—I've been looking all over for you!
—N-Nellie…
—Look at this, dearest Mell! Mother bought me these wonderful gloves to wear on walks! The roses embroidered on the wrists are just precious!
—Oh my, you're right. They are beautiful.—The White-Haired Girl said with a small smile, which then disappeared.—You appear to be dizzy, Lord Mell. Are you feeling unwell?
—N-No…—Mell muttered.—I'm fine… Hahaha…
Mell was feeling frustrated at his inability to convey his feelings to her.
And as his frustration built up over time, he developed… I supposed you could call it a severe case of lovestickness? For several consecutive nights, he had been afflicted with a peculiar sensation.
A presence in his bedchamber.
Death!
Death to the unholy one!
Death to the heretic!
Death to the witch!
Kill ***!
—She's…-A man's voice sounded.—Why… I never wanted her to die… Was she not eating?!
—Seal off the tower.—The voice of another man sounded.—Understood? No one finds out about this.
—How… can you be so calm?! Don't you understand what you've done?!
—Ha. Pinning the blame on me? How nice it must be to be able to distort reality with panic.
—You're just as guilty as any of us.—The third voice said.
—I… I never wanted her to die…—The first voice proclaimed.—The witch killed her… The blood of the witch killed me ******!
…
—Grh…—Mell groaned, waking up from sleep at midnight.—Aah! A-A dream? What was… that dream…? It was… horribly unsettling…—"I was holding someone–a girl I cared for dearly–in my arms, and she was limp… It was almost… as if she were dead… I've been having a lot of really unpleasant dreams lately. I can't stop shaking… Why would I have such a dream? I feel sick…"—Back to sleep…—"But I wonder… Who was that girl? … I can sense someone standing beyond my door."—Is someone there?—"It's like they're watching me… Is it just my imagination? … I can't move. What? What do you want? Go away."—Haah…—"That sound… is growing fainter."
…
—I…—The White-Haired Girl in the rose garden muttered to no one.—Is that truly what your story meant, Father? But I… Such a magnificent garden… Something we could never have had… Are my intentions… misguided? … What a beautiful white rose.
—You know,—The Maid appeared from White-Haired's behind.—you could have sneaked into his rather easily then. No one was watching. Hehehe…
—H-How long have you…
—Oh, you needn't pay me any mind. I shall not condemn you, no matter what you might do. Rather, I am on your side.
—I was not…—She muttered after some silence.—going to do anything.
—Oh? Is that so? Then perhaps you were out for a late-night stroll. I… imagine you have less difficulties going outside at night.
—I beg your pardon. I will… return to the mansion immediately.
—Oh yes, that reminds me–it was also the middle of the night when the grocer's servant broke into their safe. News of that spread quite far; I am sure you would have heard about it.
—Oh?
—Although, was Gemasch imprisoned? Dear me, I am having trouble remembering. But worry not, If you wish for it, the mansion shall provide. You are in no danger whatsoever of getting caught.
—I-I… You said… that a witch lives in the mansion, did you not?
—I did. Does that sound, perhaps, a bit archaic to you?
—No… I believe those rumors mockingly refer to me.
—Oh my.
—I have been accused of being a witch before. Which is amusing–I don't have any magical powers. I simply… have an unusual… appear…ance…—Her gaze darted away from the Maid.
—My, what a lovely shade of red.—The Maid noticed a red rose in White-Haired's hands.
—The rose… Is something the matter? This rose… This rose was white. Until I took it in my hand…
—Hehe… Is that so?
—I apologize. I must sound mad. I'm sure I was just mistaken. It couldn't possibly have changed–
—I wonder…
—Yes?
—Did the girl locked in the mansion become a princess?
—Wha–
—We should lock up and head to bed. Make sure all of the shutters are closed nice and tight, and then draw the bar on the front door.
…
Slowly but surely, time trekked onward, everyone working toward their own individual goals.
Each early-summer breeze that blew through the garden was like God's hallowed breadth carrying the flowers' fragrance in through Rose Manor's windows.
If only time could be stopped, and this beautiful ear made to live on through eternity.
As usual, Mell's eyes chased after the White-Haired Girl, and Nellie pursed her lips in frustration at him. But she was still rather docile.
Even taking into account how self-centered she behaved, how fickle her temper, Nellie's fits were still no worse than a playful kitten.
See? At that very moment, our lively little feline had her claws poised to swat at the flaxen-haired young man.
Hehehe.
—Mell! You promised me! Or have you forgotten?!
—I haven't forgotten, I'm just asking if we can go another day.
—Another day? This isn't something that happens every day! I've been looking forward to tonight's performance for so long.
—There's nothing I can do about that. We're having a gathering at the priest's home tonight. Several high-ranking officials have come up from the mainland just for this.
—Who cares?!
—I-I care… You know, Nellie… it doesn't have to be me who goes with you.
—No! I want to go with you, Mell! You've been so distant lately, dearest Mell. You refuse to do anything with me…
—That's not true.
—Tell me–if you can't go today, when can you? When will you be willing to go out with me? When will you be willing to play cards with me? To have tea together?
—I… can't make any promises. I have things to do–obligations. And Nellie, you're almost an adult yourself. Stop acting like such a child.
—I'm not an adult yet! I'm still a kid! If it means I don't get to play with you anymore, dearest Mell, then I don't want to be an adult!
—Nellie, you cant–
—Lady Nellie,—Siblings got interrupted by the Maid.—the master wishes to speak with you.
—Huh? Father does?—Nellie seemed unpleasant.—What could he want?
—G-Go on, Nellie! You can't make Father wait! He's very particular about people keeping their appointments!—Mell smiled.
—...Yes, he is. Unlike you, dearest Mell.—Nellie said until her disappearance, leaving Mell and the Main alone.
—What's got her in such a foul mood? Oh, thank goodness for small miracles. Nellie just won't seem to take me at my word lately.
—You mustn't be so harsh on her. She is your one and only, darling little sister.
—You're right, but still… she's taken it a bit too far of late.
—Oh? I am not so sure.—The Maid said with a small smile.—She does not seem to be behaving any differently to me.
—Hmm…—Mell thought on her words.—"Am I the one acting differently, then?"—Well, enough about that. Can I ask you a favor?
—Me? What can I do for you?
—I was thinking…
Physically, Mell was undeniably a young man, but the smirk that crossed his lips as he schemed gave his face the sweet look of a little boy.
Or perhaps that was simply part of his charm, and it was not the age disparity but his character that made his smile so heartwarming.
What did he ask of me?
Hehehe. You shall find out soon enough.
…..
—It's cloudy…—The White-Haired Girl muttered looking at the sky.—And thank goodness for that too. Though it would be even better… if it were even darker out. Umm… I believe the textile shop was around here… Ah…
—...Hi there.—There was a smile on Mell's head.
—Lord Mell… Uh, fancy meeting you here?
—Yeah… what a surprise. So, uh, what do you say we take this chance and go for a little walk? Since you're sensitive to the sunlight, we can keep our eyes out for shadowy areas as we go. And if you feel unwell, just let me know.
—U-Um… I was sent out to run an errand…
—Don't worry about that.—Mell's smiled brightened even more.—C'mon, follow me.
…..
—Um, I'm sorry.—Mell's eyes darted aside.—It, uh, actually wasn't an accident that we crossed paths. I planned this out ahead of time, asked to have you sent out on a fake errand. It feels like I'm always on alert back at the mansion. Haha… Can't relax in my own house. It's actually kind of funny. Sorry…—The smile disappeared from Mell's face.—that was inappropriate of me. I just thought since the sun's mostly blocked out, it would be all right if…
—Um, I'm feeling just fine…
—Ah…—"O-Of course, I get her out of the house, and I can't even think of anything to say…"—H-Hey, uh…
—Yes?
—Have you settled in to life at the mansion?
—I have. Everyone has been such a big help.
—That's good to hear.—He smiled again.
—Indeed.—A tiny smile appeared on her face too.
—S-So, uh…—Mell broke another silence.
—Yes?
—Nellie told me she had you help redecorate her room some time back.
—Ah, yes, that was shortly after I arrived. What of it?
—Yeah, uh, that day, Nellie told me… that you don't…—His eyes faced away.—Umm…
—I don't…?
—Never mind, sorry. It's not important.—He managed a small smile.—"It is important, but I can't just ask how she feels about me… That would make it sound like I… Forget "sound like." I do, don't I?"
—Lord Mell?
—Oh, sorry…—Mell smiled, recovering from his thoughts.—Had something on my mind. It looks like it might rain again today.—His face turns concerned.—The weather usually gets better as summer approaches, not worse like it has been.
—It won't be a heavy storm, though.—A tiny smile on her face again.
—No?
—The wind is too gentle.
—You can tell from that?
—Vaguely, but yes.
—Huh.—He smiled brightly.—That's impressive. I often leave the house unprepared, only to find myself sloshing back in the rain.
—Hehe.—Her head drops to the ground.
—You laugh a lot more than you used to.
—D-Do I?
—Yeah, and I like that. You look better with a smile on your face.
—A smile suits Lady Nellie much more then I.—There's a smile on her face once again.
—What? Her smile and your smile are completely different.
—Also… a smile suits you as well, Lord Mell.—She bowed her head a little once more.
—D-Do you really think so?—"What am I supposed to do… in the face of a smile like that?"—So, um…
—Yes?
—"Knowing her, if I ask if I'm imposing, she'll say no without hesitation. Trying to cover myself isn't going to get me anywhere."—Hold on a second. I never did get you those flowers like I promised. There was a single white rose blooming in the garden… I was planning to give it to you, but it disappeared before I had the chance. So… I'd like you to have this… It's not a real rose, but it won't wilt, either.
—I-I…
Mell was holding an ornamental white rose.
It was an impressively detailed replica of the real thing, crafted by an incredibly skilled artisan's hand.
It was, I imagine, made by the same craftsman from whom Mell had ordered Nellie's birthday necklace.
The young man, who but a handful of days earlier had said he had no sweetheart, had come in to commission a present for a girl.
The master of the shop must have been quite surprised. Or perhaps it had given him a good laugh instead.
It was for this moment that he so desperately sought for time together with the White-Haired Girl.
—I don't know what you like, so I had to base it on my sister's tastes.
—My–My apologies.—She lowered her gaze.—I cannot accept this.
—Is the design not to your liking?
—N-No, I just…
—If you're concerned about how much I paid for it, don't be. I just want you to have it, that's all. Please…—His gaze darted away.
—Why…—She bowed her head again.—Why… are you so kind to me?
—Why? Because–
—I'm sorry, I can't accept it!
A clear glint of flustered panic was visible in her red eyes. There is not a girl in the world whose heart would not flutter at the sight of the sparkling rose accessory.
But her reaction was far from delight.
As a matter of fact, there were traces of fear and apprehension in her countenance.
—I beg your pardon!
—H-Hold on!—His eyes suddenly widened.
With a look of distress on her face, the White-Haired Girl made to run off, but Mell grabbed her by the arm in the nick of time.
—At least…—Mell's expression eased.—tell me why. Is it because you dislike me?
—I-I never said…—She closed her eyes.
—I'm… Something's wrong with me. From the day you arrived at the mansion, it's like I haven't been myself. I've been strangely aflutter even since then. Whether I try to study, or whether I try to read, none of it sticks. I'm just looking at pages of text, tracing rows of letters only for them to disappear as soon as I look away.—There was no reaction from White-Haired Girl.—It's all… It's all because of you. I–
—I truly, truly am sorry!—She raised her eyes at Mell, but then lowered the gaze down again.—Please… don't be any more generous than you already have! When I'm with you, my willpower wavers…
—Wh-What do you mean by that?
—I'm so sorry!
—Ah– Wait!
Mell's grip loosened for a moment, allowing her to slip free and dart off like a gust of wind, not giving him a chance to stop her a second time.
The dumbfounded flaxen-haired boy stood frozen in place, left all by himself.
The breeze, which the White-Haired Girl had called "gentle" earlier, felt faintly chilly–almost as if mocking him.
—It looks like… she's even less fond of me than I thought. Nnh…—"God, I'm crying."—I'm pathetic…
—Well, if it isn't Mell.—Mell got silenced by the sudden appearance of the priest he usually visits in the church.—What might you be– Are you crying?
—Ahaha…—He tried to play it off.—I'm so pitiful. Sorry you had to see this…—
—Think nothing of it. I passed by a girl just a few moments ago; she appeared to be rather distressed as well. Did something happen between the two of you?
—I wasn't good enough, it seems.
—Not good enough?
—That was the new maid I was telling you about before. I was… um… Like you said, Father, I was keen on her. Quite. Enough to bring me to tears like a miserable child.—There was no the priest's clear reaction to it.—But she rejected me. I don't even… have what it takes to be a stand-in prince.
—Mell…
—I apologize for complaining to you about this. I'm completely hopeless.
—...Mell.
—Please, don't try to cheer me up. I don't need any sympathy. I just…
—No, Mell, listen to me.
—What?
—I've seen that girl before.
—What do you mean?—His expression turned concerned.
—But, hmm… You said she was a servant at your house, right? In which case…
—Yes, she is. Please tell me, Father. Where did you see her? Why must you be so evasive?
—It was… probably someone else.
—Someone else?—He half-closed his eyes.—You're saying you mistook someone who stands out as much as her?—After the no answer from the priest.—Father…
—She… and a man who I assume is her father… paid a visit to the church once. They came asking for food, their clothes in tatters. The two were emaciated; I don't think they were eating daily.
—What? W-Wait a minute, are you saying…
—She's a beggar.
—But Father said… she came from an esteemed house.
—Which is why I said I might be mistaken, Mell. She has a singular aspect, but it is possible there is another girl who looks similar.
Deep down, though, the priest surely believed the opposite. And so he said sternly, like teacher to a pupil,
—But you must be absolutely certain, Mell. Understood? You cannot proceed any further without knowing her ancestry.
—May I visit the church, Father?
—By all means.
In the back of Mell's mind, a vision of the night of the storm–night the White-Haired Girl arrived at the mansion was surely replaying.
She had been wearing little more than rags and covered in grime–hardly the appearance of a respectable young lady of class.