—Now, now, Nellie.—It was some male voice.—You love the theatre, so don't look so cross.
—Hmph.
Nellie was out with a man other than her brother that evening–sight indeed. And she was quite clearly in a foul mood.
"I will not stand for this… That I should have to marry a man as disagreeable as Arthur! It's unthinkable!"
The young man at her side was Nellie's fiancé, selected by her parents.
On any other occasion, she would have snubbed an invitation from any man who was not Mell, but she had little say in this matter.'
She was, for lack of a better word, forced to go out with him.
And on, how furiously she had fought against it.
She had shoved aside the abigail trying to fasten her corset, locked herself in her room, and sobbed for quite some time.
It required the combined efforts of several of us to get her ready and out the door for her date.
—Come now, you should at least pretend you're enjoying yourself. Or do you want people to think we don't get along?
—Do we get along?
—Well… I want to, for what it's worth.
—What it's "worth" to you is my name, not me.
—Are you really going to be like that? I went out of my way to take you to your favorite play. The least you could do is be a little kinder to me. What was it called again… Romeo and Juliet? It's been running for six or seven years now. A family like yours or mine could pay to have a brand new script written. So why should we have to see an old play at a theatre full of commoners? It may be private, but even so… Haah… I would rather just have a show put on at my estate–
—Stop talking already! Why should I–Why should I have to marry someone like you?! I have ab-so-lutely no desire to marry you! Whatever it takes, I will put a stop to this! I'll talk to Father as many times as I must!
—Please, don't make such a scene. It's shameful. There are people around; remember, you represent your family. Besides, our families are hardly strangers to one another. Try as you might, I doubt you can get rid of me. No matter what you say, you can't break this engagement.
—You don't–!
—Your parents gave you too much freedom, and look at what a spoiled little girl you became because of it. Goodness, you're going to be quite the handful.
—Oh, get off your high horse!
—No, you're the one on a high horse, Nellie. You are going to be my wife; you could at least put some effort into liking me.—At that Nellie's eyes widened in offense.—What happens when I take you to a social engagement and you act like this? It's shameful to the both of us.
—This coming from someone who used to call me "Lady Nellie"... What's your problem?
—When you choose to act like a lady, I'll gladly call you that again. Goodness gracious. Put yourself in my shoes for a second. I have to marry a bratty little girl because it will help my family.
—How dare you talk about me that way!
—You're not a damned princess. Open your eyes. If you think talking to your father will get you out of this marriage, you're welcome to try. I doubt he'll have it, though. Otherwise, you can just go complain about it to your friends. Oh, that's right… As far as I'm aware, you don't have any friends.
—Enough!
—As you wish.
"This is so frustrating… Why should I have to listen to this jerk mock me?! I have Mell. I know–if Father won't listen to me, I'll ask Mell to talk to him! Mell will be able to convince him!"
—Come on now, your favorite play is about to start. Maybe you should face forward.
"Enjoy it while it lasts! You won't be talking down to me much longer!"—Her eyes then widened a bit.
—...What?—Arthur only responded with a confused look.—Is that–?!
—Wait, Nellie! Get back here! What is that damned child's problem?! I didn't give her permission to leave! Father will be sure to hear about this… I cannot have the Rhodes making any more of a fool of me!
…
—U-Um… I-I…—The White-Haired Girl muttered.
—You're fine. Don't be shy.—Mell reassured with a smile.
—But… so many people… are l-looking at me…
—Ahaha, that's because you're gorgeous.—His expression was still easy.
—...No, it's because I look strange.
—I assure you, that's not the case. It is true you have an unusual appearance… but right now, the unique color of your hair, your skin, and your eyes all serve to accentuate your beauty.
—Y-You sound like a prince, Lord Mell…
—Wha– Y-You think so? I mean… I did say I'd be a stand-in prince for you, but…
—I think you're a wonderful prince… not just a stand-in.—She smiled just a bit.
—Which… makes you my princess, then.
—I-I don't…
—Aww, you're supposed to say, "Yes, I am," there. You're going to make me sad.
—Ah… Um… I…
—Hehehe. I guess I'll just have to keep working at it until you submit. Oh, hey, the play's about to start.
—Um… what am I supposed to be doing?
—Nothing in particular. Just sit back and enjoy the show. Oh, but there is one thing!
—Yes?
—If I start dozing off, could you maybe wake me up?
—Hehehe.
—Ahaha!
—...Ah. Ne–
—What–
—Dearest Mell!—The shout interrupted Mell's question.
—Nellie?!
—Dearest Mell, why are you… What are you doing here?!
—I-I…—The White-Haired Girl tried to mutter something.
—I asked her to join me. It's nothing to get worked up over.
—It is! It absolutely is! How many times did I ask you to come with me, and you wouldn't? You don't even like theatre, dearest Mell, and you brought her?!
—You're right, I'm not especially fond of plays, but I wanted her to be able to see one. Why are you making such a big deal out of this, Nellie?
—She's not suitable for you!
—What?
—She isn't good enough for you! Why would you choose her?!—Nellie was standing on her own.—She's creepy and you have no idea where she came from!
—Don't talk about her like that, Nellie!
—But… You don't even know who her family is!
—I do.—Mell's answer was simple.
—Wha–
—Um, Lord Mell?—The White-Haired Girl was just silent watching over siblings.
—It's fine. You just stay quiet.—Mell reassured her.—Like the other maids, she comes from a respectable house. I looked into it. However, circumstances prevent me from telling you what house that is.
—No…—Nellie's eyes widened.—You're lying. That can't be… She's… But she's… She doesn't act like a lady, she lacks etiquette, and she probably can't even dance! You expect me to believe someone like here is from a good house?!
—Enough already, Nellie!—Mell yelled.
—M-Mell yelled at me…—Even White-Haired Girl's eyes widened upon it.
—You have my word–you don't have to worry about her. So please, stay out of this, Nellie. It isn't any of your business if I spend time with her, is it?
—But… But dearest Mell…
—You need to stop hanging all over me, Nellie, and find someone for–Wait. What are you doing at the theatre? Are you here alone?
—Ah! Oh yes, dearest Mell, about that–I have a favor to ask of you! I'd been waiting to talk to you about this since yesterday, but I haven't seen you at all!
—Settle down, Nellie. What is it?
—Father had me engaged without consulting me! And he picked Arthur, that disagreeable little–
—Oh, right, that. I already know.
—Wha–?!
—I heard it from Father. That reminds me, you didn't show up at breakfast this morning. I see now–it was because of your engagement.
—Dearest Mell…
—Is that who you're here with today? In that case, you should get back to him, rather than waste any more time with us.
—You knew I didn't want to get married, Mell! So why?! Why didn't you talk Father out of it?!
—Because… it's your time, Nellie. If there's someone else you'd rather be with, then, well, you can try persuading Father, but…
—You're… You're the only prince for me, dearest Mell! And a prince always grants his princess's wishes. Doesn't he?! I just want you to say you'll do that for me, dearest Mell!
—L-Lady Nellie…—The White-Haired Girl raised her eyes.
—You stay out of this!—Nellie immediately abrupt her.—It's all your fault! It's all because you showed up and played your little tricks on him! I warned you about this rat, dearest Mell! She is not suitable for–
—I told you I'd had enough already!—Mell just smacked Nellie's hand, his voice rising far higher than usual.—How much longer are you going to continue acting like a child?! I can deal with you being a spoiled little girl, but how dare you be so derisive to someone else!
—M-Mell… hit me…
—L-Lord Mell!—The White-Haired Girl's eyes widened at the view.
—Go on, the show's about to start. People are giving us dirty looks.—He managed to calm down then.—Return to your betrothed, now. I will apologize to him afterwards as well.
—You said you would always be by my side… That you would always be my prince…
—The time for make-believe is past, Nellie.
—No, no! I refuse to believe it! I will not have it!—In that moment, she just runs away in tears!
—Nellie! My goodness, that girl.
—Are you… not going to go after her, Lord Mell?
—No, just let her go. The only place she even has to go is home. I just wish she'd start acting a little more like an adult.
—I imagine Lady Nellie simply…
—Hmm? She what?
—No… it just wasn't my intention to get between you.
—Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault we had an argument.
—But… you two are so close…
—Well, yeah, we're siblings. So we're close, but nothing more.
"I do care about Nellie, and I enjoy spending time with her… but she's my sister. Nothing more."—Mell couldn't bring himself to say these aloud.
—Anyway… Sorry for making such a scene.
—No, I…
—I imagine she left her betrothed behind without saying anything, so I'm going to go apologize to him. We have to keep up appearances. Stay here; I'll be right back.
—Very well…—Her gaze is averted.
Master… What are your thoughts on the tale so far? Which of the siblings do you think was in the right, Master–the brother, or the sister?
Oh my. I apologize for the abrupt question. Did I startle you?
What do I think? Hmm, yes, I believe Mell was probably right. He was also surely happier than her.
As Mell had anticipated, Nellie fled from the theatre, leaving her fiancé behind.
She forced her way into a carriage stopped outisde–probably one called for a different nobleman–and ordered it to take her home.
Mell's assumption was correct: the only place she had to return to was the mansion.
The sun was beginning to set, and as a young lady, she could not simply go wandering through town alone…
nor did she have any acquaintances to take her in.
Her world was, in essence, composed of two elements: her brother and the rose garden. They were the light of her life at Rose Manor.
She lived a very… isolated existence.
—...Haah… hahh! N-Nnh… nnnnh…—When she escaped back home, Nellie went straight to her room, locked the door, and began sobbing.
The waves of her sorrow came crashing effortlessly over the levees.
Tears streamed through the cracked walls of the dams blocking her tear ducts.
—Mnh, w-waaaah… Why… whyyyy?! Why won't you help, Mell…? Why won't you take me side…?
The decor in her room appeared blurry through her damp eyes. Memories of the day she had it redecorated played back in her mind with crystal clarity.
—She told me… she had no feelings for you! That liar! That liar!
She let her emotions run wild, breaking glass craftworks, silver plates designed by famous foreign artisans, flower vases, all sorts of things.
It was as though a beast had been set loose in her bedchamber.
The save she tossed shattered against a painting hanging on the wall, spraying water, porcelain, and roses in every direction.
It was the portrait she adored so dearly–of her and her brother.
And in what appeared to her like a metaphor for her life, the frame fell off its mounting and came crashing to the floor.
Nellie darted over and scooped it up. The frame had broken, but the painting inside was unharmed.
The two smiling children were still the very image of happiness, inseparable siblings gently holding one another's hand.
—...My prince is no more.
Though in her present state of mind, that image of happiness brought her nothing but misery.
And the worse she felt, the more frustrated she grew at the smiling girl and kind boy of her past.
—The princess is no more either… You're not a princess anymore, Nellie… Some other woman… has taken your place. I trusted you, Mell… I believed you would always be there for me! … This painting! Is nothing! But a lie! That's not the real Mell! That's not the real me! It's all a big fat lie! A lie… Mnh… ngh… nnh… waaaah… I wish this painting… never existed… That it was never made… That I never had a brother! This painting! This painting–! Haah… haah…
In a fit of emotional distress, she scratched feverishly at the painting she once considered precious.
She put more force into her fingers than she, or perhaps anyone, might have imagined she could.
Flakes of paint began falling off the canvas, and in time, she noticed something peculiar.
—Huh? What…? Is this… writing? Something's hidden beneath the paint? Just a little more… A date? Why would that be hidden? What could it be for? …Com…ple…ted… Completed… May… 1587… 1587…
She read aloud the faded, scratched-up handwriting. After staring blankly at the text for some time, the color in her began to drain.
—What is this– How– How could this have been painted sixteen years ago?! I wasn't even born yet then, and Mell would have been just a baby! Is this not me…? Is this not Mell…? … There's still more writing!
Urged on by her rapidly pounding heart, Nellie furiously scratched away at the painting.
Even as her clean, pink fingernails were soiled with fragments of pain and blood, she did not stop.
She was so overwhelmed by trepidation that she could not stop.
She had a horrible premonition that something was about to happen–something indescribable, incomprehensible.
—Thi… This is… how… I envision… your son… and our unborn… daughter… might look… several years from now… … "Your son and our unborn daughter." So this was a painting… of the future.
"Then it really is of me and Mell…"
—No. Use your head, stupid. I'm only fourteen… Sixteen years ago, I would not have even been inside Mother! But then… But then who is this?! Who is that holding Mell's hand?! Who is that with my brother?! More… More, there has to be–O-Ow! … Found it! There's more writing… I have to know… what this is!
"Calm down. Calm down, Nellie. It's nothing to get worked up over. I'm sure it's nothing. Calm down and read. There's nothing to worry about."
—If… if our unborn… child–
This is what the writing on the painting said:
If our unborn child does not have your hair color,
then you will probably not be able to take her in as your own.
I will be punished, and my life made miserable.
And so I pray that this child might have flaxen hair.
...
Though is it a sin to wish she was in her a trace of me?
I do hope it is a girl.
—What… am I reading? I don't get it! Someone, tell me! What does this mean?! "A painting from sixteen years ago. Hair color. Sin. "I do hope it is a girl"...?"
.....
—Yes?
—It's Nellie. Let me in.
—Lady Nellie?
—Oh, you changed out of your dress. That's a shame; it looked nice on you. Hehehe… It really did look so nice. Almost like you were a princess.
—Um… Lady Nellie?
—Saaaay, I've got a question for you… Do you mind?
—By… all means.
—What color hair did your father have?
—I beg your pardon?
—Did you not hear me? Should I repeat the question?
—N-No… I assumed it would be about Lord Mell…
—I am just so curious about where you got that white color from.
—...I-I… My… My father was more… tan than white… So I didn't inherit my paleness from anyone…
—I asked about your father's hair color.
—Wh-Why would you want to–
—There's no reason you can't tell me, is there?
—My father… um, had white hair. But that was simply because he was an older man; I do not think he was born with–
—Hah… haha…
—L-Lady Nellie?
—Aha… Hah, hah, haha, ahahahaha! Hehehe!—This only summoned confused from The White-Haired Girl.—Hey, guess what, I've figured it out! I've figured it all out!—No answer from her the White-Haired again.—Hehe, hahaha… And it was so simple. There's only one difference between you and me. The thing that Mell fell for is–
—Wh-Why do you have those–?! N-No, stay back!