Chapter 28
“I don’t like them.”
Carolie suddenly interrupted, frowning. She had been sneaking peeks at Calliope’s guest list and now blurted out her disapproval.
Calliope looked up, surprised.
“Why? Isn’t your friend from the House of Carbulet?”
Was this still about the fight they’d had at the boutique months ago?
“Wasn’t Armant your closest friend? This could be a good chance to make up.”
“No! She’s the worst! Don’t invite her!”
“Carolie, you need to tell me why.”
“I don’t know!”
With that, Carolie threw down her pen and ran out of the room. Kaphir blinked in confusion, startled by the sudden outburst. Calliope looked to him for answers, but he simply shook his head—he didn’t know either.
What on earth happened between them? Calliope wondered. It’s been months, and she’s still this upset…
She got up from her seat and went to look for Carolie.
Carolie had run straight to her room. She burst through the door and barely gave her personal maid time to follow.
“Miss, are you upset?” the maid asked gently.
“Get out!” Carolie shouted.
The maid sighed and quietly shut the door behind her.
Carolie buried her face in the bed, kicking her feet in frustration.
“No one understands anything!”
Her mind flashed back to that day at the boutique.
Armant—daughter of Count Carbulet—had been one of Carolie’s favorite friends. They shared the same tastes in dresses and desserts. That day, Carolie had been out shopping with her mother and was in an especially good mood. Excited, she had gone overboard picking out lace and fabric.
Armant had played along, matching her energy and keeping the mood light. But as they browsed, Armant kept sneaking glances at Calliope, who was sitting nearby with Circe.
“I was worried at first, but you look happy, Lady Carolie,” Armant had said, smiling.
Carolie had tilted her head, puzzled.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Armant looked around, then leaned in to whisper something.
“I heard the Marchioness took in a girl with no real background. People say she’s been really worried about it.”
She was only nine—too young to understand the weight of those words. She didn’t say them out of malice, just repeating what she’d overheard. And because she considered Carolie her closest friend, she didn’t think to filter herself. After all, based on Carolie’s usual temperament, she probably assumed Carolie wouldn’t like a new big sister either.
But she was wrong.
“Who told you that?!”
Carolie’s mood changed in an instant. Her voice was sharp, angry. Armant froze, taken aback. She hadn’t meant to upset her.
“I—I mean, it’s true, isn’t it?”
Caught off guard and flustered, Armant doubled down. She was too young to realize she’d crossed a line, and too proud to admit it. That only made things worse.
The two of them began yelling, and it wasn’t long before their guardians came over to calm them down. Calliope had held Carolie close, comforting her. And Armant had watched it all unfold, finally realizing that Carolie didn’t dislike her sister—not at all.
It was a realization that came far too late.
The Countess of Carbulet apologized on her daughter’s behalf, and Circe accepted it, bringing the matter to a close on the surface. But Carolie never really let go of what happened.
“Stupid Armant! And dumb Calliope!”
Now that Calliope wanted to invite the Carbulet family again, it stung. Tears welled up in her eyes and started rolling down her cheeks. She sobbed quietly into her pillow, her heart aching.
That’s when the door opened gently.
“Carolie?”
“You’re not supposed to come into someone’s room without asking.”
Her voice was sharp, but she didn’t tell Calliope to leave. That, in itself, said a lot.
Calliope smiled softly and walked in. She sat carefully on the edge of the bed, her brow furrowed just slightly.
“What’s made my little lady so upset?”
“I’m not little!”
Carolie whipped her head up, her tear-filled eyes wide. Calliope reached out and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Did she do something really bad to you?”
“No… she didn’t do anything to me.”
“Then who did she hurt?”
Carolie hesitated, her brows furrowing as she finally muttered her answer.
“…She said it about you.”
“Me?”
Calliope blinked in surprise. Considering the rumors she’d heard about herself early on, it made sense that some unpleasant things had been said. Still, had they spread that quickly? She gently wrapped her arms around Carolie, patting her back softly.
“So you were worried I might get hurt, weren’t you, Carolie?”
“I was not.”
The child’s voice came out in a sniffle. Calliope held her quietly for a moment, thinking. In her previous life, Lady Armant had grown up to be quite a well-regarded young lady. A bit naïve, sure, but she had a good sense for people and often grounded Carolie when she got carried away. Right now, she was just a child—too young to know better. She probably just believed the rumors at face value.
“But she apologized, didn’t she?”
“She only did it because her mom made her. And she apologized to me, not you.”
Calliope chuckled out loud. She’s only nine, but she’s already thinking this deeply? It made her wonder why she and Carolie used to bicker so much in the past. A touch of regret tugged at her heart. She gently laid the girl down and looked into her eyes.
“So… do you hate her forever? Never want to see her again?”
Carolie pouted but didn’t answer. That alone was answer enough—she was conflicted.
Of course she is, Calliope thought. In the future, those two were practically inseparable.
She brushed Carolie’s messy hair aside and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
“Then I’ll think a bit more about whether or not to invite her.”
“Okay.”
“Now rest. Your eyes are so puffy, Kaphir might tease you when he sees.”
“If he does, I’ll make his eyes puffy like mine.”
“Oh dear, I’d better warn Kaphir to avoid you for a while.”
Leaving the girl to rest, Calliope walked down the hallway deep in thought. If this were just about an ordinary child with no future importance, I could simply leave her off the list. But Calliope knew things others didn’t—she had the advantage of future knowledge.
In about three years, a rare mineral would be discovered in a mine on the Carbulet estate. She had once considered seizing it for herself, but in the end, it would simply become part of the Carbulet family’s holdings. The Marquis’ household was already wealthy enough, and it wasn’t even a gemstone—just a rare mineral. Not the kind to make anyone astronomically rich.
Still, Calliope had plans for that mineral. Maintaining a good relationship with the Carbulets would be useful.
“Carolie won’t like it, but I should still invite them.”
Back in her room, Calliope helped Kaphir finish his assignments, then returned to her desk.
“Ortea Carbulet.”
Armant’s older sister. A year older than Calliope, Ortea was once nearly crowned the belle of high society. Nearly. In the end, she didn’t have the strength to survive in the political battlefield of noblewomen.
To outsiders, the position might seem glamorous—beautiful gowns, admiration, prestige. But in reality, it was ugly and ruthless. It was about boosting one’s own image while destroying others. If someone had no flaw, you simply invented one. Whoever sat at the center of that social circle held sway over noble opinion, making it one of the most cutthroat arenas of them all.
“I hope we can talk reasonably.”
With that, Calliope instructed Susan to deliver the guest list to Illan and began drafting a letter to the House of Carbulet.
Meanwhile, Ortea had just returned to her room after trying once again to console her little sister.
Ever since that outing with their mother, Armant had been out of sorts—quiet, downcast, like a sprout that had never quite pushed through the spring soil. At first, Ortea hadn’t thought much of it. Children fought and made up all the time. But this had lasted far too long. Now, she was starting to worry.
“How can I cheer her up?” she wondered aloud.
Dolora, Ortea’s personal maid, leaned in and whispered,
“Miss Armant’s maid told me that Lady Carolie hasn’t sent her a single letter since the fight. That’s what’s upsetting her most.”
“Oh? So, it was more serious than I thought. Did she at least try writing first?”
“She hasn’t. Apparently Lady Carolie was really angry that day, and now Armant’s too scared to send anything.”
“Well, nothing gets solved by just waiting around.”
Of course, her sister was only nine. It made sense that she’d want to avoid something scary. But when Ortea asked her what the fight had been about, Armant just pressed her lips shut and refused to say.
Maybe I should help… she thought, when a knock came at her door.
“Come in.”
It was one of the estate’s mail staff. Normally, he’d sort the letters and distribute them through the servants, but today he held something out directly.
“Miss Ortea, a letter arrived from the House of Anastas. The messenger specifically asked me to hand it to you in person.”
“From the Anastas household?”
Ortea’s expression brightened. That must mean Lady Carolie finally came around, she thought. Carolie could be temperamental, but she wasn’t cold to people she cared about.
“Wait… why is it addressed to me?”
If it was from Carolie, it should have been sent to Armant.
As she puzzled over it, Dolora checked the envelope.
“Miss, this letter wasn’t sent by Lady Carolie Anastas.”
“Then who…?”
There was only one young lady in the Anastas household—Carolie. Just as she was about to say so out loud, a realization struck her.
Ah, that’s right. The former Marchioness’s daughter was recently re-registered into the household.
