The Marquis’ Daughter Acts As A Pawn

Stained glass decorated in the chapel, depicting the myth of the goddess Ruwell.

A wood leak sun plunged from that stained glass, illuminating brightly one girl who would be three or four years younger than me.

The girl, who previously named herself the daughter of a pedestrian, loads a bunch of paper arranged all at once in a mess.

I hesitated only for a moment for that serious appearance, but I spoke out because the object of purpose was in the girl's hands.

"Can you give me back that bundle of paper?

"You wrote this?

With the paper bundle gripped, the girl raised her face with her upper eyes.

In lustrous dark hair, brown eyes common to the civilian population.

Apart from the fact that her face is horribly neat, the girl is a civilian who deserves no special mention.

... I don't know, this discomfort.

I couldn't contain the swirling exploratory mind in my chest, and I didn't hesitate to observe the girl.

Eventually the girl stares at me with alarm.

"Hey, what..."

When I saw the girl wrinkled between my eyebrows, I was sure.

"You're noble, aren't you?

"I am the daughter of a pedestrian. There's no reason to be noble."

I was more and more convinced when I saw a girl who looked upset and looked as if she didn't show it.

I didn't expect you to be able to control your emotions so far... quite possibly a high-ranking young lady.

This is getting interesting!

I laugh invincibly like a detective in a reasoning novel, holding down my exciting heart.

"It seems somewhat dirty with mud, though. You can't keep that luminous skin without a spot."

This is from my rule of thumb.

I am now a shitty nun, but I was a nobleman before.

That's why a girl's skin can't be just a civilian.... My total defeat if they say I'm fit or young.

But the girl stares at me with a stunned look, with her eyes open and her pussy blinking.

After a while he leaned down on his face and shook his shoulders.

"... ku, kufu, hahaha! I've never been seen through like that before. Well, you can't fool around with that guy four years ago."

"Is that who you really are?

I was increasingly intrigued by a girl with a bottomless grin from the ladies.

"That's right. Nevertheless, I had no idea there was such a forgetful sight of Count Wyler's house in the Monastery of Omboro."

Count Wyler's oblivion is about me.

In the social world, I know you call me that when you run away from home.

"You've often found out I'm Cardia Wyler. You don't sound like a noble lady, do you?

My tone also includes the meaning of separation from the aristocratic community.

Out-of-the-box, easy stuff, I like it.

"The literacy rate of women in this country is not so high, and only a limited number of women are educated to think about texts themselves. In that case, your identity will inevitably be narrowed down to nobility, a privileged class. All the nobles' names and physical traits are slapped in the head. There's no such thing as a beautiful woman with dark hair and deep red eyes and nobility but you in this Roland's."

The nobles' names and physical traits are tapped into their heads, right?

Again, a fairly high ranking courtier - no, should I see it as a courtier educated by the Queen?

Are you the Marquis of Lewis?

"... you got it."

"Why don't you take a sweet look at me"

I've tried to sound great, but it sounds totally wrong.

He was the most powerful fiancée candidate for the second prince, who is seen as the next king, so he just said it.

But the girl looked remorseful and then pressed a bunch of paper that was holding onto me without hiding her grump.

"Yes! I'm Julianna Lewis! I already... thought they were playing it perfectly. I'm leaving."

I walk with Zukazka and the ladies in a rash motion and drop off the girl heading for the exit - Julianna, even though I smile.

"Hopefully I'll come back"

"What! You can't lose next time! … and I'd like to read more about it."

Julianna's gaze as she looked back was directed towards a bunch of flickering paper - a novel I wrote.

There is a fixed notion that it is a man who writes a novel, and this is what he was writing in hiding.

If the royal three-pillar courtier is the kind of novel that keeps you worried, maybe many people can read it.

My chest rattled to such a possibility.

"Right. I read more. I want to hear your thoughts. Waiting for you, my fan number one?

"I only tell you what I think of honesty. Be prepared, Doctor."

This is what we met.

I was seventeen at the time, and Anna was fourteen.

The place is not an aristocratic night club or tea party, but a thin dirty monastery.

So as just Cardia and Julianna, we became friends...

♢

"I need to talk... I can't get the story together!

When the book of the night came and the darkness deepened.

I squeak and throw round the paper I was eager to write and hit until earlier, in the light of the candlestick.

In the social sphere, the massive solemnity since the beginning of the Kingdom of Rolands has settled, and the story holds true in the engagement of the Second Prince and Anna, but I have not had much luck already leaving the tabular stage of the aristocratic society, and my immediate concern was about the deadline for the new novel.

This story tells the story of Anna, whose former noble son, who lost his family and whose family name was deceived, vows revenge and is made up of the acting skills he wears to survive - but it does not lead to a satisfactory development.

"In this progression, we'll have to cage again."

Fu Anna's face floated as she calculated how to escape the editor in charge.

We haven't seen each other these days because we're busy with each other, but we might have something to talk about.

Because she's the fiancée of the second prince who's talking about it now, the next princess.

And while Anna is considered a model for ladies, she is the most ladylike daughter.

You should be caught in a commotion out of that position and character, not just because you don't want to.

Oh, I want to see Anna! Save my predicament!

Standing up from the chair with your hands up so that you can make a wish, Potri and a single envelope fall off your desk.

It was a letter from Anna, sealed with beeswax depicting the lion's writing.

With that said, a samurai said a letter from Anna came a few days ago.

I was completely obsessed with writing a novel.

cuts the seal of the letter slightly messily with a paper knife while suppressing the feeling of doing it.

Looking through the letter, it spells out Anna's recent state of affairs as usual and her novels about my lifestyle.

But that was not the only content of this letter, and only one last request was written to me.

"... when I get a new novel, would you like to have about two more besides the usual one? And one book is signed by Adolf Taylor, please, right? Hehe, what the hell do you use it for?

Loose cheeks and naturally raised corners of the mouth.

I would now have Anna's reputed look as a poisonous flower-like grin.

Retract the written manuscript aside and remove the note from the drawer.

And as I slap my gushing desires, I write back to Anna.

"I don't give you autographed books for free, no matter how much my best friend? Would you like me to offer you a great story, Anna?"

Place the note in an envelope and seal it with beeswax with the crest of the Lemington family's rose.

He handed it to the maid who had kept it in the hallway and arranged for it to be delivered to the Marquis House in Lewis, Wang Capital, at first light in the morning.

I'm no longer in the mood to write a novel, I weave my gown and head out to the balcony.

The gardens stretching beneath the eyes are meticulous and lack glamour.

But the colorful primula flowers that still seem to blossom make you feel the coming of spring.

Primla flowers are special to me.

The first flower he gave me, who was a friend of my late father and my beloved husband.

Both the season I met him and the season I broke up with him, this flower was in bloom.

"With that said, it was spring when you met Anna."

Joy and sadness come with this flower.

I was desperate for everything and ran the Count Wyler family when I was twelve years old, not particularly loved by my late father or my real mother, but was pioneering a battle for succession to the title by my real brother and my half-brother, the son of my concubine.

He was the one who reached out to me like that for a lifetime short of incurable illness.

I couldn't even spin the words of love, and it was Anna who pushed my back, which was shrinking.

I married him at the age of eighteen when my thoughts arrived, and a year later I broke up with him.

I still don't feel like wearing anything other than mourning when mourning dawns, but I still have no regrets about marrying him, nor am I desperate.

I'm sure that's because I have Anna, my best friend with the Remington family he left me.

Oh, I really can't get my head up on my best friend, my lord.

"What kind of stories do you spin in these days when history will move a lot?

The Rolands, known as the Patriot's Country, are no longer a single rock, and neighboring Samorta is also coming the limits of its royal faith. There is no shadow of the former glory and so on in Diaghilev, and the invasion is about to start again to divert attention from domestic problems.

While I was worried about my best friend, who would be caught up in the vortex, my heart was full of anticipation for an unknown story that Anna would portray.

... I don't know what the end will be, but shall we at least pray to Goddess Ruwell that Anna is a world where she can smile?

A disbelieving former nun, I prayed for my best friend in cash.