Chapter 6
Menez’s Daughter and the Dog
Timeo Voilerban sometimes thinks that it was clearly a mistake of God that Marcel Voilerban was born into the world.
Timeo didn’t even have to make an effort to recall how innocent and beautiful Marcel had been, the Voilerban estate itself remembered.
When Marcel went out to play in the garden, it felt as though the sun, the grass, and the wind loved him.
When, by misfortune, he lay in bed all day, the Voilerban estate, so grand that it ranked among the largest in Comper, seemed to shrink itself to Marcel’s eye level.
His cheeks, as if dusted with fine powder, always carried a rosy glow, and since he wasn’t often unwell enough to run about, he constantly smelled pleasantly sweet.
Everyone admired his thick blonde hair that fluttered lightly like daffodils in the fields. And that wasn’t all. Marcel knew how to use what he had.
He was kind to the servants, rubbed his cheeks against his parents’ laps in turn, and was clever enough to learn reading and writing almost immediately.
The Duke and Duchess often held outdoor reading sessions for children of the nobility Marcel’s age to educate their wise son.
Even young Timeo thought his older brother quite splendid. Marcel was like a sugar confection carefully crafted by the city’s finest artisans. Truly, among the children of the great nobility, none could match Marcel.
If only it weren’t for that infernal temper…
Marcel, one year older than Timeo, treated him as a cherished other half when in a good mood, but when displeased, he frequently mocked his younger brother in front of others or made him stand in the hallway all day.
He publicly exposed Timeo’s mistakes during the reading sessions, and often plucked Timeo’s hair one strand at a time to wake him after he had fallen asleep from playing at night.
He trampled on Timeo’s feet countless times, pushed him from heights, and all the parental attention that should have gone to the second-born because of the older sibling’s hereditary illness went entirely to Marcel.
Yes, hereditary illness.
The children of the Voilerban inevitably suffered from it.
To explain this illness, one must recount the sordid manner in which the Voilerbans had preserved their blood. The Voilerban family, a core of the Comper royal household, had always been closed and conservative.
They feared more than war the dilution of their precious blood over generations. They wanted the great name “Voilerban” to remain intact for future generations.
Who, in their right mind, first thought to mix with their own siblings…?
Yet, since this had been the family custom over generations, there was no alternative. They preferred a single generation to have both a male and a female child, and when children of the same sex were born, they would search the extended family to gather Voilerban blood.
Timeo’s grandparents were cousins, and his father and mother were unfortunately also related.
“Timeo.”
“Yes?”
“If you had been a girl, you probably would have married me.”
“No…!”
“You foolish boy. You’re a boy. I wouldn’t want to live as a husband with a child as deficient as you either.”
Perhaps because of this irreverent custom, the women of Voilerban were particularly frail. Timeo’s mother’s health rapidly declined after giving birth to him, leaving her bedridden for long stretches.
Marcel often locked Timeo in empty rooms or closets, claiming that his mother had become ill merely from giving birth to someone like him, and while Timeo was confined, his mother wasted away like winter branches. It was that kind of disease, muscles slackening, the body eventually shriveling like firewood…
“Timeo, won’t you hug Mother?”
“But Mother is so weak… if I hug her, I might break her…”
“Is that really all?”
“Huh?”
“Mother is sick. Isn’t she smelly and scary? If you hug her with her eyes closed, you’ll be the first child ever to embrace a corpse…”
“That… that’s…”
Marcel held Timeo gently, asking in a voice as sweet as honey. Just as Timeo was about to say that it was fine because she was his mother…
“…Louise! Did you hear that? Timeo says he doesn’t want to hug Mother because he’s afraid of her.”
“What? Even if he’s young, how could he say something like that, Timeo-nim! The Duchess is weak because of whom, indeed….”
Marcel’s accusations never ended, and eventually, young Timeo grew exhausted. Such slanders and beatings became everyday occurrences.
Once, when he fiercely resisted, asking why Marcel tormented him so, Marcel, with his usual innocent face, said,
“When Mother bore you, God assigned you to be my toy, so it can’t be helped.”
Timeo was shocked that someone of seven or eight could say such a thing, but he wanted to ask his bedridden mother if it was true.
Yet Louise, his mother’s maid who adored Marcel, would not allow Timeo into the room. Even until Mother’s final breath, to the very end…
And then came the summer when Timeo was nine.
Not long after their mother’s funeral, a guest arrived at Marcel’s reading session.
It was Philis Menez, the only daughter of the harsh, obsessive, child-averse Marquis Menez, who had been hidden away in Banuelle as a prized possession.
That year, of all things, the game going around between Marcel and Timeo was the dog game.
When the large white dog given by the Duke bit Marcel, he ordered it removed.
The dog was not only Timeo’s, yet Timeo’s opinion was irrelevant. The dog was soon replaced, by something as soft, white, and delicate.
Timeo, who had received the dog’s collar as a gift, followed Marcel’s orders through the summer bushes on hands and knees. His shorts left his knees red.
At first, the servants, horrified by Marcel’s extreme antics, were persuaded it was just a private game between the two brothers and began to ignore it.
Timeo obeyed Marcel’s commands, giving his hands when asked, pretending to smell the roots of trees, burying his head in the dirt, rolling through the bushes.
The visit of the Marquis Menez’s daughter to the Voilerban estate had been unplanned.
While Timeo sweated and rolled in the bushes like a dog, Marcel, with his usual soft face, greeted Philis Menez.
Instead of responding politely to Marcel, Philis locked eyes with Timeo, who was gasping while leaning against a tree, showing no intention of hiding the collar.
“What’s that?”
Calling a person “that”… she must have been the same sort as Marcel.
“Pitiful sight, isn’t it? Sorry, he’s my younger brother.”
“I can tell he’s your brother because he looks like you. I mean… why is he in that state?”
“The dog we had was disposed of recently.”
“You’re saying your brother is a replacement for the dog?”
A faint embarrassment crossed Philis’ face as she looked down at Timeo. But that was all. Timeo turned his head away, unwilling to show his state to her.
Then Philis Menez pulled Timeo’s collar off. Timeo had never been this close to a girl, so he kept his head turned. Philis finally removed the collar completely and threw it aside.
Her throw wasn’t strong enough to reach far, but it was enough to embarrass both brothers for different reasons.
“If you don’t resist, you’ll have no choice but to keep living like a dog… Do you like the food your brother gives you?”
Only then did Timeo raise his head to look at Philis, though the sunlight made it hard to see her expression.
❤︎.꒰ ⑅:†· ❤︎ ·†:⑅ ꒱.❤︎
The daughter of Marquis Menez, still faintly marked by measles on her arms, wore long sleeves even in the radiant early summer, exuding a unique air.
She murmured absentmindedly to her father, who anxiously peeked at her dark crown as if watching children at the reading session.
“Nothing much, I’ll play by myself.”
Despite her nonchalant manner, Philips was highly sociable.
The Menez family owned the historic Honore Theatre in Comper, and Philis charmed the children by showing them the pamphlet of the play opening soon.
Marcel, the idol and center of the reading session, sat with his back to Philis, maintaining his highest dignity.
Yet Timeo, who knew his brother best, could tell Marcel’s rear itched to peek at Philis’ pamphlet.
“Do you want to see it too?”
When Philis handed the pamphlet to Timeo, he nearly fainted.
Marcel’s relentless branding of him as a snot-nosed child had made the reading session children reluctant to speak to him.
Still, being the son of Voilerban, they couldn’t ignore him. Timeo often remained inconspicuously on the table’s head seat.
Yet Philis Menez was the first to extend the pamphlet to him, not Marcel.
“Thanks, but Timeo can’t read or write properly yet.”
“Really? But he’s part of the reading session.”
“I’m his older brother. It’s my duty to guide him. I brought him out so he can at least experience the atmosphere.”
“Is that so?”
Timeo’s face flushed immediately.
Philis paused, then grasped his shoulders. They burned as if on fire.
“Timeo Voilerban. You really can’t read? You’re only a year younger than us.”
“Only a year? There’s a four-season gap between me and him, Lady Menez.”
“If you’re still such a hopeless child at nine, I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Did you hear that, Timeo? Lady Menez says you’re hopeless.”
“…Le.”
“What?”
“To the summer premiere at Honore Theatre, ladies and gentlemen are invited…”
Even the children at the reading session, busy examining the pamphlet adorned with spiderweb-like lace, raised their heads to Timeo.
His voice, as pleasant as Marcel’s, carried through them. As Timeo read each sentence, even the branches seemed to pause.
“Not bad at all. You can take back ‘hopeless,’ Timeo.”
“R-really?”
Marcel glared sharply at Timeo, so he had to forcefully suppress his excitement.
Philis had already moved on to ask children whether she could cut the lace from the pamphlet, seemingly uninterested in the Voilerbans.
“Timeo.”
“…Yes?”
“Don’t get excited. You look like an idiot.”
In truth, Timeo had known how to read and write since a similar age to Marcel. He had practiced reading alone in a room in secret.
He simply didn’t know what Marcel meant by “idiot” and resolved to ask the nanny someday. From that day, Timeo liked Philis Menez.
Unlike the other children, she paid little attention to Marcel. She knew much about theatre and opera and spoke in a gentle tone that made the inland capital children understand the seaside city of Banuelle.
Marcel and Timeo’s blond hair often dazzled in the sun, but Philis’ black hair was, in the soft colors of Banuelle, the most striking.
❤︎.꒰ ⑅:†· ❤︎ ·†:⑅ ꒱.❤︎
“My precious little suns… Lady Menez will stay in Banuelle for about fifteen days starting tomorrow.”
“Philis Menez?”
Marcel snapped the book shut irritably, glaring at the nanny.
“Yes, apparently she’s mature for her age.”
“I don’t like her, nanny. Her tone is strangely arrogant.”
“Well… she’s the only daughter of Marquis Menez. Being so noble, even the Menez servants have rarely seen her.”
“Does that make sense?”
“I can’t say for sure. Anyway… our servants will attend to Lady Menez diligently, so will the two young masters show her around the Voilerban estate?”
Timeo nodded brightly. Marcel, lounging by the window, threw the book he had been reading at Timeo as soon as the nanny left.
While Timeo clutched the back of his head in pain, Marcel’s foot was already at Timeo’s front.
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Her…?”
“You must have gotten stupid from all the hits to the head. I mean Philis Menez, the black goat.”
“L-Lady Menez doesn’t look like a goat…”
“How do you know? You’ve never seen a goat.”
Even Marcel… Timeo kept his mouth shut and just glared at his brother’s foot.
Marcel grinned constantly, tapping Timeo’s knees with his toes, and began insulting Philis Menez.
He said the Comper nobles let their children roam corridors like livestock, so surely she must have stepped out of Banuelle before, and maybe she isn’t even the daughter of Marquis Menez.
Timeo wanted to refute, but speaking fluently like Marcel was difficult. Moreover, Marcel’s insults alone were exhausting. Timeo just wanted to close his eyes.
“But Timeo, if you really like her, I’ll have her.”
“What…?”
“Do you understand?”
