"Ah, my Carlyanne! You look lovely today!"
The madam of the house, the Countess of Hortensia Manor, smiles at my entrance. It's a solo entrance since I've been invited to come alone. Therefore, Sieghart is standing by at the door of my room like some guard dog as I left escorted by the grey-haired servant.
Somehow, I think I can feel his glare on my back, following my every move even as I descend the stairs and away from my designated personal wing. I'm sorry for my inability to turn away free lunch! I'll try to make it back quickly so you're relieved of your post!!!
In any case, I'm also a little curious about the madam. The only time I ever saw her was days ago, during my disastrous hangover period, so I don't take much stock of her. Add to that she didn't contribute much to the dinner experience, I have about 0 notes to make sense of her. What's the villainess's mom like? I'll find out soon!
Ingrid Marlen Tritten. The name strikes me like a bolt of lightning, sudden and urgent, as if warning me to never forget about it again. Along with it, Carlyanne's body moved by reflex as I gave Countess Ingrid a formal bow that is usually reserved for social greetings.
Okay, so muscle memory is a definite thing then. I just have to check about something else. "Thank you for the invitation, mother."
The mother of the wicked woman looks lovely, to be honest. She kind of reminds me of those cafeteria aunties, just based on her aura alone. Warm, comely, inviting you to come closer and probably give good cuddles. Her face though, is nothing like that of an aunties, it's on another kind of level by itself!
This woman looks like she's in her late 20s, nearing her 30s, and it's kind of fucking me up that she already mothered FIVE ADULT CHILDREN while still looking so young so no, none of this old woman bullshit. She has a pair of pink eyes and deep magenta hair (fantasy logic strikes as usual) and while none of the kids has her hair color, the texture of her wavy hair seems to transfer to the rest of the four siblings. None of the older siblings has straight hair like their father, the Count, except for Carlyanne.
I guess in that sense Carlyanne is the one that looks like the odd one out? Or rather, she's the daddy's girl? Both are possible.
In any case, I had to almost squint since the countess' face lit up as soon as I enter, hurriedly standing from her seat in a manner that almost knocks the edge of her dress on the table as she welcomes me with open arms, insinuating an invitation for a hug. "Nothing to thank me for, Carlyanne, I should be the one thanking you for agreeing to meet. How are you doing today?"
"I am recovering." I talk as I stand by the open doors, staring at the lady with what I hope are questioning eyes. "It's a little surprise that you asked me for lunch, Mother. Is there anything I can do for you?"
She looks a little disappointed when I asked that, but her eyes changed into understanding as she returns to her seat with poise. "I don't need any reason to see my favorite daughter, don't I? This old lady just so happens to see you taking a stroll outside and has a yearning to talk to you.. It's been a few days since I last saw you, and back then, you're unwell…"
I feel my eyelids twitch. Ah, so she's the worrier type. I'm going to have to hold on mentally if I want to get through this lunch in one piece.
I do my best to reply with a polite voice, manifesting the neutral poise that I've been seeing in Carlyanne's memory when she's speaking with her mother. "It's been a few days since then and I'm feeling better as the days pass. You needn't worry. Instead, how are you doing, mother?"
Countess Ingrid beams at my inquiry as her smile turns a few notches brighter, and boy, I sure hope sunglasses exist! "It's been a lovely week here in the manor! There's been so many things to do, duties to oversee, that I find myself rather stumped now to find myself with not much to do!"
Ah, so you're looking for someone to pass the boredom, is that it? You want some boot-licking, ass-kissing action?? I can manage that much! "It is a sign that you're a capable madam of the house, mother. You should be joyful to find yourself with much time for yourself. The servants are capable and willing to serve, is it not because of your guiding hands that makes this possible?"
"Oh, you!" Countess Ingrid blushes as she waves off the compliments, in a way that's actually fishing for more. "I know that you're my favorite daughter for a reason~ I'm so happy to get to talk to you again, my dear. Come, let's eat!"
The buttering of the madam continues as I take note of the lunch being served in front of us by the staff while taking a sip of water to quench my throat. The countess is served with a plate of what looks to be chopped red cabbages, and, a plate of what looks to be.. meat salad? Whatever it's named, I can smell the aroma and man, it's really making me drool.
Comparing that to my plate, I suddenly feel the loss of appetite seeing what's being served on my end. It's still a diet of potatoes and soup, which looks to be of fish-based broth again, though this one smelled a little medicinal. Unfortunately for me, I'm not the type to waste food, especially free food. I swallow down the sigh of disappointment and dutifully prepare myself to eat.
Despite the fact that this luncheon started on a high note, there isn't much conversation happening during the first minute of our dining. I don't think that Countess Ingrid is one to initiate talking while eating, since she didn't do it even during the first breakfast where I met the family. She eats into her meal silently, with poise, and occasionally smiles when our eyes meet.
I try my best to not smile back at her. Who knows if this is the kind of face that even a mother can't love? I don't want to find out and get kicked out immediately!
Also, whenever our eyes meet, I feel a familiar sense of weight building in my gut. The kind that bothers me as swallowing becomes harder, one that causes breathing to turn laborious. Even my vision is looking a little blurry as I'm staring at the window…
…
Hold on a fucking second. Am I having an allergic reaction???!
I feel my tongue a little numb, tied as I try to speak but can't. The back of my throat is tight, hurts, in a way that if you got a fish bone stuck to the flesh directly, annoying, yet too far down for you to pull out with your fingers. The kind that even if you try rolling your tongue will do nothing and instead will make the annoyance worse.
Breathing is hard, but doable. I can still see, to some extent, and so I try to look at the madame about to ask her about the ingredients and–
Countess Ingrid is focused on her food, a gentle smile adorning her face as she hums while she pushes her food around her plates, not touching even her spoon onto her crimson-tinted lips. Exactly like a feline, who plays with their food to whet their appetite and ease boredom.
..Tsk. So I'm the boredom chaser huh?
Her pair of pink eyes lift to meet mine after I connect the dots and in her reflection, I see a great joy that twinkles even as her smile falls and her face turns worried, the pair of silverware in her hands clicks just a little louder onto the ceramic plates as she calls her daughter's name. "Carlyanne? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." I force through my gummy mouth and continue to take one last sip of the soup as I meet her gaze head-on, "Not much appetite, Mother. Perhaps I'm not as well as I thought I was."
"Aah, I knew that you were lying!" She exclaims in a way that conveys panic as her hands leave her side and brush against my cheeks, rubbing all around the right side of my ears as she tucks back a stray hair, and lingers around the earlobe. "You know that you should always be honest about your health, right? Mother worries about you the most when you're trying to tough it out. You don't have to try too hard to get well, take all the time you need."
Her voice is saccharine sweet, heavy, almost syrupy with how dripping it is with concern and care. This body, however, feels like the edge of pins and needles with each movement she's doing, telling me to run get out get out get out.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I let all those warning signals ring and ring louder until I open my eyes once again.
When I do, I find myself smiling in her eyes, and something shatters.
If that's how you want to play then, let's play.
I lean into her hands as I gather the last of my voice to match her intensity, copying her tone as I exhale almost sweetly, the memory of my favorite song playing in my head to drown the protest of my chilling spine. "Of course, mother. You're the only one here that cares for me, I've always known that."
Countess Ingrid stills in her ministration. Her smile froze. Tension lingers in the air and refuses to disperse and I wait, patiently, my smile becoming a distorted image in those cherry-pink mirrors.
Then, the moment pass. I hear her suck a breath of air as her smile melts into something more natural. Losing the edge of that predator—
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Carlyanne." She says, her hand retreating as if it had touched a brand of fire yet her eyes are heated, sending confusing signals that aren't so easily deciphered. "But you shouldn't be the one to assure me, your mother. I suppose I can count as my blessing to have a daughter as sensible as you…"
"Ah, you should go back now, rest and recuperate. Don't worry about anything else, mother will handle it for you."
—and letting me know that I've won this round of pussyfooting.
I nod, breaking eye contact as I bowed politely at her while I stood up from the table, turning my back to head for the door by keeping my pace unhurried.
There's no need for goodbye, since she never truly left me, not even as I vacated the premise of the dining room and fled once more to the halls that confuses me further as I keep traveling down its winding path, aiming to go somewhere open and without walls.
But the memory keeps on replaying like a remix.
Inside a quaint little dining room, I was welcomed by a woman who called the name of her daughter like it's a holy prayer to be chanted by the most sinful to find repentance. Who touches her as one would to the holy idol of their gods, with eyes that give me a peer into the deepest depth of her soul that only screams something better left unsaid.
I had underestimated the depth of depravity that this fucking novel can take which, at this point, is a ridiculous lesson to take from this situation. However, I couldn't care less or more about this very absurd revelation, my brain is currently running in panic mode so I am panicking very well.
"Oh, look who we have here? Fancy seeing you outside!"
Fuck, again? I'm a bit busy right now! But it's not like I have a choice of ignoring after being called out, so I turn around anyway to see the mug of Carlyanne's second brother, Theoderich, smiling at me like I'm a piece of flaming garbage. "What? Not going to say hi to your older brother? Too good for greetings, hm?"
Bad timing!!! God, Carlyanne, you have the worst luck known to mankind ever! Setting off a flag one right after another, are you a speedrunner??! Cause I hope you know how to pick the best option to drop this route!
I try my best to not react and just pass by him quietly. That's the wrong option to take, sadly, as that somehow triggered the guy even further and deepened his scowl.
"Hey-!"
And because his reaction was to catch my hand and forcefully spin me around my heels, my stomach also spun in place like an acrobatic worm doing an interpretive dance. Also, because just grabbing onto my hand is not enough, he also had pulled me in closer to his space, a frown already set in place as his lips parts to say something right when I push him away and bows—
The earth accepted my offering once again, sharing half of its bountiful harvest with Theo's shoes and pants.
Projectile vomit makes all the food I consumed lurch at such a velocity that frankly does deserve its 'projectile' part of the name, splattering all over and painting a grotesque picture on the stone floor, along with other sensory assaults like a buy 1, get 3 free!
As soon as my stomach emptied itself, I instantly feel better right after, not minding the mess that I've created and the tears of the staff that would have to clean up for this, and feel the tinge of regret already blooming in my heart.
That sentiment doesn't extend to Theoderich, however. At least, I don't think so.
The man is just standing there, in a daze, his eyelids twitching once a second while remaining locked on me and the mess I've made on the floor. If I'm reading this right, based on his flushed face and heavy breathing while sniffing the air, I think he's undergoing a kink awakening that's– no, nope, not enough fucks to give to this!
What's important is that he's not moving and my hands are free— it's time to book it outta here!
"??!"
I take this perfect chance to hold up the hems of my dress and run. I run as fast as I can, even if that brings up the nausea again, giving it all to speed as my life is depending on it. I do not think, just keep running, run until my legs can't take it anymore!!!
Run! Run and be free!!!
"Miss?"
Sieghart eyes me weirdly as I'm running up the stairs and down the hallway to my bedroom. He looks a bit fearful as he saw me, probably a bit scared to see his employer looking like a ghost running in the halls while smelling like vomit, but I don't have enough fucks to give him right now!
"I'm going to faint now."
It's all the warning that I can muster before my vision swims even more and starts to fill with blots of ink. I tried my best to angle myself to the wall and lean on it, hoping that it'll catch me and let gravity do the rest of the work of scooting me safely to the ground, though I won't know for sure until the next time I—
Blackout.