Chapter 26
“You’re more resilient than you look.”
“I used to go hunting when I lived in the village. And Dora—ah, that is, the village blacksmith—taught me a bit of swordsmanship. Sort of.”
Calliope couldn’t bring herself to claim that Dora had properly taught her swordsmanship, so she glossed over the details. At that, Bellona’s expression briefly twisted into something unreadable. Puzzled, Calliope looked at her.
“Dora?”
“Oh, that’s the blacksmith’s name. He said he was a fairly well-known mercenary in his younger days…”
“That brute who used to swing around an axe?”
Calliope blinked in surprise.
“I did hear he used an axe.”
“Yes. And a mace too, sometimes. Either way, he swung them around like a madman.”
A hint of nostalgic warmth softened Bellona’s otherwise stern face. Calliope asked, almost incredulously,
“You know Dora?”
“‘Know him’ is putting it lightly. We were in the same mercenary company.”
Calliope hadn’t expected Dame Bellona to know Dora. In the past, when she had lived like a commoner, there had been no need to bring up people from that life. The sudden reappearance of an old connection left her momentarily disoriented.
Bellona’s voice was curt as she spoke about Dora, but there was a faint smile on her lips, like she was recalling a long-lost memory.
“You said Dora taught you swordsmanship?”
“Uh, yes. He taught me the basics, at least. Said I should know them.”
“Figures. He was always better with big weapons than with a sword.”
Bellona stood with her hands clasped behind her back, quietly observing the pink flush in Calliope’s cheeks. Hearing an unexpected mention of an old friend had slightly lifted her mood, which hadn’t seen much light lately.
It had been nearly twenty years. She vaguely remembered hearing that Dora had gotten married, but life at the royal palace had been overwhelming, and she’d never found the time to reach out. By the time she came to her senses, all the bonds she had once treasured had already slipped away from her grasp.
“How is he doing these days?”
“You mean Dora?”
Calliope pretended to think for a moment, then grinned mischievously and raised her eyebrows.
“I’ll tell you—if you agree to be my sword instructor.”
“Hah.”
Bellona let out a soft laugh despite herself as she looked at Calliope, whose smile so eerily resembled Dora’s. Whether she truly smiled like him, or whether Bellona was just projecting her memories, she couldn’t be sure. But she didn’t mind it.
Feigning serious thought, Bellona pointed toward the storage room.
“Go fetch a wooden sword. You seem to have enough basic stamina.”
Calliope beamed at the response. Only Susan, standing off to the side, looked less than thrilled as if to say, we’re doing even more now? and reluctantly ran off to the storage room.
After their first lesson, Calliope returned with shaking legs. She felt she had preserved her dignity simply by not crawling up the stairs. Susan, also trembling beside her, supported her weight. Though Susan hadn’t trained like her mistress, she’d spent the entire session running around to assist, and her energy was just as drained.
Typically, maids could rest nearby or step out during training sessions, but this dutiful young maid simply couldn’t sit still. Jack, waiting in the room, looked at them with a strange expression.
“It’s one thing for the lady, but what happened to you, Susan?”
“It just kind of happened,” Susan replied weakly.
As Susan struggled to keep Calliope upright near the doorway, Jack sighed, then effortlessly lifted Calliope and slung her over his shoulder. Susan’s eyes widened in surprise, while Calliope burst into an unladylike giggle.
He tossed her onto the bed without much ceremony, then scooped Susan up as well and set her gently on the sofa.
“Judging by your expression, I assume we don’t need to look for another sword instructor.”
“Right? Who would’ve thought I’d run into someone from my past like that?”
Calliope lay sprawled on the bed, still laughing, while Jack knelt by her feet and removed her riding boots. Her feet were flushed red, a sign of how much she’d run. Clicking his tongue silently, he made a mental note to find her more comfortable clothes and shoes as soon as possible.
She lay in bed for quite some time before suddenly remembering her appointment with the Marchioness. Groaning, Calliope sluggishly pushed herself up. Just as unsteady, Susan tossed her into the bath like a load of laundry, scrubbed her down, and shoved her into the dressing room.
Calliope grimaced at the sight of the overflowing wardrobe. With how many outfits her father Illan had packed in here, she figured it would take months just to try them all on. She chose a simple light violet dress—the one with the fewest frills—and headed to the dining room where she was supposed to meet the Marchioness.
As she stepped onto the first floor, someone quickly trotted up beside her. Without looking down, Calliope smiled and asked,
“Where are you going?”
“The dining room. Mother said we’re eating together.”
Carolie was walking with more bounce in her step than usual. It seemed she was genuinely happy that Circe had invited her to a meal. Apparently, Circe had called for both daughters, but Carolie must have thought it would be just the two of them. Calliope hesitated for a moment, wondering how to break the news, but before she could say anything, Carolie pushed open the dining room door and turned back.
“What are you doing? Come on in.”
Well, that was Carolie—always direct. Calliope followed her into the dining room. The two sat side by side, chatting softly, when Circe entered. Seeing her two daughters getting along, Circe raised a brow slightly but said nothing as she calmly took her seat.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to spend time with your new sister.”
The moment Circe spoke, Carolie’s cheeks turned bright red. Her emotions were always so easy to read. Worried, Calliope gently rubbed the child’s cheek with her fingertip. But Carolie quickly raised her chin, eyes full of pride, and declared boldly,
“People can change, you know!”
“That’s certainly better than pretending you never said it,” Circe replied dryly.
Right on cue, the servants began bringing in the food. Just like their first meal together, no real conversation followed, but the silence didn’t feel nearly as uncomfortable. They ate slowly, and it wasn’t until dessert was served that Circe finally spoke again.
“We’ll be visiting the shopping district tomorrow, so keep your schedules clear.”
She didn’t bother asking politely—just a matter-of-fact command. Calliope raised an eyebrow, unsure how to respond, while Carolie beamed with excitement. Going out with their mother was a rare treat. Circe was always so busy. But now she wanted to take them shopping? Carolie’s little feet bounced under the table, barely able to contain her joy.
“Me too?”
“Yes. Especially you. I heard you wore riding clothes to sword lessons today because you didn’t have anything else suitable.”
How did she know that? Calliope gave a subtle nod. Circe took a sip of the tea served with dessert.
“You haven’t had your debut yet, but you’ll soon need to start attending social gatherings with your peers. And yet, you have no proper shoes, no horse, not even suitable accessories. I’ve heard that the Marquis filled your room with expensive dresses and jewels—just stacking them up like trophies.”
She wasn’t wrong. Everything in Calliope’s room was meant for a debutante—extravagant, formal accessories completely out of place for casual meetings with peers. Wearing something like that would only make her stand out in the worst way. Circe’s observations were accurate, but one question still lingered in Calliope’s mind.
“Is this really something the Marchioness should be taking care of?”
She said it as she slid her own untouched dessert toward Carolie. But instead of being pleased, Carolie narrowed her eyes and glared—clearly worried that this rare outing with her mother might get canceled.
“At this rate, people might think I’m your daughter, not Father’s.”
The words came out more biting than she intended. It wasn’t a jab at Circe, but rather at Illan. Even back then, it had always been the Marchioness who made sure she had what she needed—though it was never an invitation like this. The things she lacked would just quietly appear one day.
Circe didn’t take offense. She responded calmly.
“You were officially registered under the Marquess’ household. That makes you my daughter.”
She looked at Calliope with eyes the color of old wine—deep, calm, but not without pride.
“My son is already the heir. I have more than enough wealth and means. If I ignored the daughter from my husband’s previous marriage, that would be far more disgraceful.”
Just then, someone carefully entered the dining room. It was one of Circe’s maids, holding a thick bundle of documents. It looked like something urgent that needed the Marchioness’s immediate attention. Seeing that, Calliope couldn’t help but smirk.
“Hm, doesn’t seem like you have that much free time after all.”
Circe frowned slightly, irritated by the cheeky look on her daughter’s face. She set down her teacup and rose from her seat.
“We’ll leave at ten sharp tomorrow. We have a lot to do, so make sure you eat breakfast.”
With that, Circe swept out of the dining room. Carolie, now reassured that their outing hadn’t been canceled, finally dug into her dessert with a smile. Calliope leaned on the table, resting her chin in her hand, and watched the girl fondly.
“What do you think your mother’s thinking, Carolie?”
“No idea. But hey, she’s offering to buy stuff—so just take it. My mom’s loaded.”
Calliope poked the child’s pudding-stuffed cheek and let out a long sigh.
The next morning, Calliope woke early to get ready. As Susan tied the laces of her dress, she turned to Jack and asked,
“Any word from Deyloren?”
“Oh, yes. He found the herb you mentioned. It’s such a weak medicinal plant that even commoners rarely use it. The effect is so minimal that only the truly desperate would bother. It’s not sold anywhere—people usually forage for it in the mountains.”
“Really?”
