Chapter Title: Cracks in the Facade
Ezra took Adelaide to a balcony in the corner of the Condentio Gallery. He drew aside the black velvet curtain to reveal a semicircular, not very large balcony.
"I'll set you down."
Ezra seated Adelaide on a two-person iron chair at the front of the balcony.
Instead of asking him anything, Adelaide turned her heavy head to gaze out at the sea.
The crashing waves against the black cliffs below made the place noisy, but it was better than the room they had left.
Adelaide closed her eyes, feeling the breeze.
Ezra, watching her quietly, soon left and returned with a glass of ice water.
"Drink this. You look pale."
"…Thank you."
Before she could respond further, the balcony door opened. It was Aegir, who had been too startled by the situation to follow Ezra immediately.
"…"
He looked at Adelaide holding the glass, then shifted his gaze to Ezra with a silent but clearly disapproving look. Adelaide spoke to Aegir.
"Sir Aegir, I have a favor to ask."
"…"
Aegir shifted his gaze from Ezra and approached.
Adelaide pulled him close and whispered so Ezra couldn't hear.
"Could you tell Miss Geneviève Malatesta that I'd like to meet her tomorrow morning, as early as possible?"
Aegir flinched as if he wanted to pull his arm away, replying in a low voice.
"…I can't leave you alone."
"You know there's no one else I can ask."
"It's dangerous."
"Sir Ezra isn't going to push me off the balcony."
Adelaide spoke gently to persuade him, loud enough for Ezra to hear.
Ezra awkwardly averted his gaze and smiled, while Aegir sighed.
"…I didn't mean that kind of danger."
Understanding his point belatedly, Adelaide nearly laughed again.
"That seems even more unlikely."
"…"
"…"
Ezra gave a vague smile again, and Aegir seemed satisfied with the answer.
"Don't worry. Go ahead."
At Ezra's additional reassurance, Aegir, still looking reluctant, quietly withdrew.
Ezra shrugged at the door Aegir had left half-open. Aegir hadn't even drawn the curtain.
"Your Brachiere is quite loyal."
"He is a competent Brachiere."
Ezra sat beside Adelaide.
The chair wasn't wide, so they were quite close—shoulder to shoulder when sitting side by side.
Feeling uncomfortable, Adelaide leaned slightly in the opposite direction.
"Why did you help me?"
"You looked like you needed it."
"…"
Adelaide gave a bitter smile.
It must have been obvious.
In hindsight, she regretted it.
Kimora. Why had she made it so apparent? Living in poverty—why had she let that show?
Despite being in a situation where she could erase her past, she felt saddened by its lingering traces, like stubborn dirt that wouldn't wash away.
In conversation, there had been several moments of discord. She had tried to smooth them over, but it must have shown.
Dressing up wasn't everything. Adelaide, feeling weary, leaned back on the armrest. Ezra, who had been watching her silently, looked up at the sky and spoke.
"Sometimes when attending clubs, uncomfortable topics arise. There are times when I want to storm out as well."
"…But you wouldn't actually storm out, would you?"
"Ha. Of course not. But it's also against a gentleman's duty to leave a lady in distress."
"…"
"As a lady of Bonaparte, you said you've never known such hardships… Those conversations must have been uncomfortable for you. I understand."
Adelaide hesitated before asking.
"…Do you agree with their opinions?"
Ezra looked like a scolded dog, crestfallen.
"If it seemed that way, that's rather a hurtful question. The people of Kimora are also members of society. If anything should be replaced, it's the fat on the nobles' bellies, don't you think?"
"…"
Adelaide looked at Ezra's face as he spoke, then lowered her head. She exhaled softly.
As the silence grew, Ezra leaned slightly toward her.
Adelaide, who had been avoiding his gaze, finally looked at him under the weight of his steady attention.
"…"
When their eyes met, Ezra gave a hesitant smile.
"Miss Adelaide."
After a long pause, he reached out. His warm, slender fingers touched her cheek.
"You look as though you're about to cry."
Adelaide shut her eyes tightly, as if rejecting his kindness.
Just then, the red-haired Brachiere returned and spoke in a calm voice.
"Miss, it's time to return."
---
After Ezra Della Valle left with Adelaide Bonaparte in his arms, and even her Brachiere, Aegir, followed them out, Geneviève found herself alone.
Geneviève alternated between looking at the empty seat beside her and Lady Ravenna, who was flaring her nostrils.
*This is bad.*
She barely had time to think that before Lady Ravenna exclaimed.
"How heartless of the sea goddess!"
She glared at the door Adelaide had departed through and spoke.
"You all heard it, didn't you? How Miss Adelaide painted me as someone who doesn't understand human rights!"
"It's a matter where opinions can differ."
Sir Chigoli, one of those seated around, spoke cautiously.
Elio Bruno, the third secretary of the parliament sitting beside him, also nodded.
"Besides, she was very beautiful. Although not quite resembling Duke Cesare, she had a very unique charm."
They seemed eager to end this conversation quickly, disliking the atmosphere of criticizing Cesare's sister.
At that moment, Delilah Bellucci, the second daughter of the Bellucci family, who had been silent, spoke slowly.
"She did seem very knowledgeable and intelligent. You could tell just by watching her converse with Sir Ezra. She also carried herself impeccably. But I felt…"
Delilah furrowed her golden eyebrows slightly.
"As though the conversation was blocked at times."
When she finished, several people widened their eyes.
"Oh, I felt that as well."
"So I wasn't the only one."
Geneviève, sipping her spumante, observed the situation. She, too, inwardly agreed with their observations.
*There was a sense of incongruity.*
Adelaide was undoubtedly very beautiful.
But occasionally, during their conversation, Geneviève had felt as though the flow was blocked.
If they hadn't talked for long, she wouldn't have noticed.
Only those who had been with Adelaide from the beginning seemed to exchange knowing glances.
"I don't quite understand what you mean."
Elio Bruno, the third secretary, said with an awkward smile.
"No need to hold back, Signor Bruno. We're not trying to slander Miss Adelaide. She just seemed a bit odd."
"Odd in what way?"
Delilah tapped her lips with a maplewood fan. Her green eyes narrowed.
"How should I explain this? For example… Yes, imagine a gentleman threw down his glove for my honor. What would you do, Signor Bruno?"
Elio Bruno tilted his head, confused.
"A duel? Such a person can hardly be called a gentleman."
"Exactly."
"I still don't understand. What does a duel have to do with Miss Adelaide?"
"Let me put it this way. In our society, there's a tradition of gentlemen dueling for a lady's honor. But as you know—"
Delilah glanced around for agreement.
"Such dueling customs are no longer practiced, as they interfere with ladies' social activities. Now it's something you might only read about in books."
"Yes, indeed."
"That's precisely where I felt the conversation blocked with Miss Adelaide. If I had asked her the same question—"
"I understand what you mean."
Lady Ravenna, seemingly calmed, spoke.
"She would likely have responded with something like, 'I hope the gentleman wins.'"