The carriage arrived in the capital exactly three days before the debut ceremony for the social season.
Which meant that Rea had been staying somewhere so far away that it took a full week by carriage to reach the capital.
She wondered what on earth they had done to carry her, who had originally been in the capital, all the way out there, but Rea maintained her silence.
In any case, ever since she was young, nine times out of ten she had never received a proper answer no matter what she asked, so she had no expectations.
“Good! Get down. We’re here.”
Following Viscountess Nerasmun’s words, she stepped down from the carriage, and the bustling sight of the capital came into view.
Strictly speaking, it was a place and street prepared outside the lower part of the capital, but as the history of the social season grew deeper, it had formed a commercial district and forcibly brought about the capital’s expansion.
For the first time since the coup, Rea was seeing the crests of countless houses gathered in one place.
“Let’s see. There’s quite a bit to buy.”
The viscountess looked over the list Baroness Bashport had given her.
Meanwhile, the viscountess’s son, the young coachman, finished parking the carriage and was looking around for them.
When Rea waved to let him know, the coachman noticed and flushed.
Not only the coachman, but several men and women were glancing at Rea’s face.
Her beauty was as clean and lovely as a porcelain doll’s, drawing the eye.
The coachman looked displeased by the attention around them.
The viscountess ruffled her son’s hair.
“Don’t start. When you grow up, this mother of yours will pick out a woman far better than her for you.”
“That’s not it, Mother.”
“Of course, of course.”
At the same time, she shot Rea a sharp, displeased glare.
Rea felt unfairly wronged for no reason.
And so, the uncomfortable shopping began.
“First… enough dresses to wear in rotation for about a week? All black? Ha, how very Bashport.”
But after reading the following sentence, Nerasmun narrowed her brow.
“Something that shows the curves of the body well, but does not look vulgar, and has no direct exposure. Damn it, Bashport. I’m not a matchmaker for you old people.”
“Mother, what’s a matchmaker?”
“The role this mother of yours will one day play for you.”
For all her complaining, Nerasmun found and purchased items that fit Baron and Baroness Bashport’s demands very well.
After buying miscellaneous goods for Rea to use and various major textbooks besides, the viscountess looked at the final item on the list and hardened her face once more.
“Hmm.”
Nerasmun rubbed her chin and gazed intently at Rea.
Her neatly pinned-up hair was a bit old-fashioned, but together with the not-too-heavy color on her lips, she had a peach-blossom air about her.
Demure and pitiable, and yet that very pitifulness made one not want to leave her be.
If possible, it made one imagine how satisfying it would be to shatter that glass-like frailty to pieces and make her look on the verge of tears.
“It would be necessary, but…”
Still, this was a bit…
While her worries deepened, the coachman tugged on the viscountess’s sleeve.
“What is it?”
“Over there…”
Where the coachman pointed, there was a street vendor selling large stick candies.
Wanting to do something for her son, who had rarely had the chance to taste sweets, Nerasmun readily gave him enough money.
“Thank you!”
The coachman happily ran toward the vendor.
And in an instant, he was hidden by the crowd and disappeared from view.
Startled, Rea called the viscountess.
“Um, Viscountess?”
“Don’t talk to me. My head is very full right now.”
“That’s not it. Your son went into the crowd…”
“My son is also a Nerasmun. Wherever he is, he won’t lose his way and will find his direction. There’s no need to worry too much.”
“Even so.”
“I told you not to talk to me.”
Rea knew well the famous sense of direction of the Nerasmun family, who were mentioned alongside the Hailan when it came to commerce, but her intuition was ringing with unease.
Restless, Rea decided to follow after the coachman.
“Still, I’ll go with him.”
“I’m grateful, but if some bothersome trouble happens because of you, keep my son out of it.”
“I understand.”
Even at those spiteful words, Rea answered obediently and entered the crowd.
There were so many nobles, servants, and merchants that it was impossible to keep her wits about her.
To prevent anyone from taking advantage of the confusion to touch her body, Rea covered herself with her arms as she moved forward.
“Stop pushing!”
“I’m sorry. I’ll pass through.”
Some woman snapped at her, but Rea apologized and kept moving.
Then, all of a sudden, her field of vision opened wide.
There were no people gathered in front of her.
Rather, they had drawn back from the center in a circular ring.
In the middle of it, Rea saw Viscountess Nerasmun’s son sitting after having fallen on his backside.
She was about to call him, but realized she did not know the coachman’s name. After hesitating for a moment, Rea found an appropriate form of address and shouted.
“Young master!”
“Oh? Belgirt, did you hear that? That side calls him young master too.”
“Huh? But what he’s wearing doesn’t look noble at all, sir. And he doesn’t seem to have a human-trash style like you, Young Master.”
“Why am I human trash… No, that’s right. I have to be human trash, I do!”
Opposite the coachman, a handsome man with light brown hair stood leaning on a servant, his face flushed.
Seeing the bottle of alcohol in his hand, Rea realized he was an idle son of nobility and quickly stepped in front of the coachman to face him.
“Look at this. She’s rather pretty, isn’t she?”
“Young Master, she’s not merely pretty, sir. At this level, she’s even more than Lady Ogwir…”
“Shut your mouth, unless you want to take that little brat’s insult in his place.”
Having needlessly touched Shuren’s raw nerve, Belgirt paled and shut his mouth.
Shuren swayed, but stood on his own feet and jeered at the coachman beyond Rea.
“Brat, if you’re a noble, I sincerely hope you’re at least from a great house. That way you’ll have the money to pay for my shirt and my drink, won’t you?”
“My lord, may I ask what happened?”
“Don’t butt in, wench. Men are talking.”
At that, Rea ignored Shuren and turned back to ask the coachman.
“Young master, what happened?”
The coachman hesitated, ashamed that Rea had seen him in such an unsightly state, but soon explained clearly.
“I was on my way to buy candy when that person bumped into me first. I apologized, but he said the skewer I was holding dirtied his shirt and made him spill his drink, and he kicked me.”
Then, as if overcome with resentment, tears welled in his eyes.
Rea patted his back to comfort him.
“Hey, what kind of play are you two putting on over there?”
“I am speaking with the young master, so please wait a moment.”
“You wench!”
Angered, Shuren came toward her and tried to grab Rea by the shoulder.
Rea struck away Shuren’s hand and immediately tried to draw the sword at his waist.
But the sword that she had clearly confirmed beforehand was not there.
Rea saw Belgirt behind Shuren, smiling wryly as he shook it, scabbard and all.
In the end, Shuren caught Rea by the arm.
“Ugh!”
“Well now, the more I look, the more of a beauty you are. How about it? Will you pour my drinks tonight?”
“Please let go of me. I beg you.”
“You ignored me earlier, and now you say that? Quite the brazen wench, aren’t you!”
Shuren twisted Rea’s arm and whispered slyly.
“This is my final offer. If you obediently pour my drinks, I’ll pretend this never happened.”
“……”
Rea could not answer.
With her weakened body, even Shuren gripping her a little strongly was terribly painful.
Seeing her face grow even paler, Shuren was seized by a strange feeling.
He noticed that the wrist he was holding hurt her.
He wanted to make a sharp moan escape those tightly shut lips even as she trembled.
He wanted to make tears spill from those resolute eyes.
“The more I look at you…”
“What are you doing to a lady, you thug!”
It was then.
Unable to endure Rea’s humiliation, the coachman charged at Shuren.
“Oh my! Little young master! You mustn’t recklessly attack our young master—u-ugh, aaah?!”
Belgirt also stepped in at just the right timing, only to miss his footing and topple forward, ending up in the shape of falling over the coachman.
Rea did not miss that instant and lightly kicked up the sword Belgirt had been holding.
The sword slipped free from its scabbard and rose into the air, and Rea tried to catch it with her unrestrained hand and place it against Shuren’s neck.
She had decided.
This man had to be made half-crippled.
If he was this arrogant even toward fellow nobles, there was no need to hold back.
As long as she had a sword in her hand, for a very brief moment—about ten seconds—she should be able to wield it as she had in her Earei days.
For Rea, those ten seconds were enough to cut off Shuren’s arm or leg.
And without anyone noticing.
That thug of a young master would probably only realize, after returning to his lodgings, that his limbs were no longer as they had been.
But the sword did not fall into Rea’s hand.
“All right, let’s stop here.”
Viscountess Nerasmun was holding the sword Rea had been aiming for.
After calmly sheathing the sword, the viscountess instead roughly grabbed Belgirt by the collar, lifted him, and threw him aside.
“Get off my son.”
“Ow!”
“Mother!”
The coachman was embraced by the viscountess, but he did not take his eyes off Rea, checking whether she was safe.
“Lord Shuren, whether my son has been rude or Your Lordship has been rude, let us end this here.”
“Who are you?”
“I am the widow of Nerasmun.”
“Nerasmun…”
Shuren’s gaze changed.
He went around acting like a thug, but Shuren too had participated in the coup.
And as a member of the Northern Army, at that.
Knowing the end of Viscount Nerasmun, who had helplessly died under the tyranny of the great houses, Shuren pointed at Rea and asked.
“Is this wench also a Nerasmun?”
“She is not a wench, but a lady. However, she is not a Nerasmun.”
“Then I can do as I please with this bit—”
“The lady’s name is Rearie Bashport. The only daughter of Bashport.”
“Bashport?”
Not only Shuren, but even the people nearby began to murmur.
The infamy of Bashport, the filthy cleaners, was worse than she had expected.
Shuren released Rea’s arm and looked at the palm of his hand that had held her, his expression unpleasant.
As if shaking off something filthy that had touched him, Shuren gave the coachman a word of advice.
“Brat, this was your fault. If you’re weak, conduct yourself well so no one picks a fight with you. Or else become stronger than anyone and go around picking fights the same way.”
He could not very well keep harassing someone who was, like him, a victim of the great houses.
Wiping his hands with the handkerchief Belgirt handed him, Shuren picked up his bottle and moved away from them.
“To think that Nerasmun would associate with Bashport, who are worse than traitors. The viscount must be lamenting.”
“If you like, I’ll follow him and tell my husband to stop that lamenting mouth of his myself.”
“…Ha.”
At the viscountess’s nerve, Shuren made no further reply and went on his way.
“Lady, are you all right?”
“I’m all right. Thank you for worrying. What about you, young master?”
The coachman ran to Rea and asked if she was all right, and Rea answered gently as well.
But the gazes around them, now that they knew Rea was a Bashport, had turned considerably unwelcome.
Noticing this, the viscountess hurriedly took the two of them and left.
At the same time, she found the answer to the worry she had been turning over since earlier.
“Yes, I’ve decided.”
At the end of the list Baroness Bashport had given her, this was written.
“Rearie, I’ll prepare a small dagger for you.”
Buy Rea a dagger or a short blade and have her carry it with her at all times.
“But that dagger is for suicide in a situation where your chastity is threatened. Only for that purpose.”
However, Viscountess Nerasmun was to decide the purpose of the weapon.
“Ah, but you are a virgin, aren’t you? Or not? You were married to the queen, after all.”
Seeing Rea’s eyes redden, Nerasmun was flustered for the first time.
“Truly, even since then, you’ve been a virgin?”
At the tears that soon fell drop by drop, the viscountess quickly changed the subject.
“Let’s hurry and go buy a knife. I’ll get you something light with a good blade. Specially, out of my own pocket.”
Even a woman who had lost the one she loved found the tragedy of a woman who had never been loved more pitiful.