The Springtime Chime of Marielle Clarac [Parts 1 to 5] by Haruka Momo

Author:Haruka Momo
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Five

The duchess invited us to come to the westerly wing, suggesting it would be a more comfortable place to talk.

“Sorry for calling on you so suddenly,” said His Highness. “If you’re otherwise engaged, we don’t mind meeting you later.”

“No, it’s quite all right. I’m expecting visitors in the afternoon, in fact, so now is more convenient.”

Since the castle’s layout was a square, moving through it was a straightforward trek along the sides. We walked past various rooms in the south wing, heading westward. I couldn’t help being very conscious of the late duke’s room as we passed it. When I stole a glance at His Highness, I saw that his handsome features had stiffened.

The door at the hallway’s end led to the upper level of the chapel. Small chairs looked down into the central shaft, while a passage led out in a western direction. Beyond that was another door, and after going through that, we finally entered the west wing.

“Rather a hassle, isn’t it?” The duchess chuckled, looking back at us over her shoulder. “Despite how small the castle is, going to a different room means either going all the way around the outside, or going downstairs and then up again. I wish the man who’d rebuilt it had thought a little more about the practicalities.”

“Rumors say that man was quite the debaucher,” His Highness remarked.

“Yes. He wrote about it in his own memoirs. All his pleasure-seeking and womanizing made his wife rather angry. He poured money into his obsession with rebuilding the castle in an old-fashioned style, then lived only a few years in it before passing away.”

Oho, so that’s the sort of man he was. I made a mental note of it all as I listened to the pair’s conversation. In that era, the castle would’ve still been his private property, not that of the royal family. I bet it would be interesting to learn the history of all the weird and wonderful owners this castle has had over the years.

The west wing didn’t appear to have a corridor; we first entered a small room, the purpose of which was unknown to me, then passed through to a larger room. This appeared to be some kind of lounge. The floor was covered in finely detailed tiles, and upon it were chairs, tables, and a large bookcase by the wall. Though the number of books was meager, the items themselves appeared to be valuable indeed. I peered through the locked glass panel, and the books’ spines all looked very old.

Perhaps these are the memoirs the duchess mentioned. As an avid reader, I’m extremely curious. I wonder—if I ask later, will she let me look at them?

At the duchess’s urging, we each took a seat. His Highness sat directly across from her, of course. “Apologies again for the trouble,” he said. “I’d like to ask a follow-up question after our discussion yesterday.”

“I should be the one apologizing for taking up your valuable time, Your Highness. Feel free to ask whatever you like.

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