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157 Gerard of This World
Days passed without any major incident at the Duke of Vérité's residence.
Ortensia, now serving Marguerite as a novice maid, had committed no significant errors.
Indeed, she was praised for being "a quick learner for a first-timer”.
‘After all, she had been watching Pamela and the others work all along.’
To an outsider, things seemed almost too smooth.
But in truth, Ortansia couldn't ignore the growing sense of emptiness within her.
... “Marguerite, my dearest daughter.”
... “Hehe, if Marguerite says so, then I suppose it can't be helped.”
…”It is my duty to raise Miss Marguerite into a proper lady.”
…”The young lady is a bit spoilt, but perhaps that's precisely why everyone adores her~”
The centre of this household was always Marguerite.
Though everyone frowns upon Marguerite's free spirit or offers gentle admonishments, they simply cannot help but adore her.
If Ortansia truly considered the good of the Duke of Vérité's household, serving Marguerite, the heart of the house, with utmost sincerity would be the wisest course.
...Yes, she knows that.
‘Why does it hurt so much...?’
A sense of loneliness and emptiness accumulates within her chest like snowfall, day after day.
It's not just that. Every time she sees Marguerite being doted on by everyone, she cannot help but harbour misplaced feelings.
‘That place... should have been mine.’
This is undeniably jealousy.
When she realised this, Ortansia was stunned.
‘Am I... jealous of Marguerite? Me, who's nothing but an outsider…’
Had the Duke and Bernadette never met, the ducal household would have known peaceful, warm happiness.
It was absurd from the start that Ortansia, bearing no duke's blood, should become an adopted daughter.
This is the right world.
An ideal world where everyone could be happy.
She repeated this to herself over and over again.
Yet still, she found herself harbouring selfish thoughts.
‘I want to go back…’
She wanted to go back. Back to that ducal mansion where Ortansia had grown up.
Back to that place where her father and brother had called her “family”.
‘I want to go back…’
Every time she thought this, Ortansia despaired.
At herself, for thinking of her own feelings above her father and brother's happiness.
And... at the fact that the world she longed to return to no longer existed anywhere.
‘I can never go back’
For it was by Ortansia's own hand that she changed fate, erasing the Verite Ducal House where she had grown up.
Even so, she couldn't help but search for traces.
...For anything that might connect her to her original world.
Late into the night, long after Pamela had fallen into a deep sleep.
Unable to sleep, Ortansia stirred and sat up.
Now that she thought about it, back in her original world, right after being abducted by the Evil God worshippers and subsequently saved, she hadn't been able to sleep in much the same way.
The memory prompted Ortansia to gently extricate herself from the bed and place her feet upon the floor.
As if retracing her steps from that day, her feet naturally headed towards a certain place.
Fortunately, she managed to reach the outside of the building without being spotted by anyone.
Guided by the faint, unreliable light, Ortansia moved forward step by step.
She wanted to see that Shangri-La flower.
When Ortansia was taken in by the duke's household, there had been only a few of these flowers. But because Gérard mistakenly believed ‘Ortansia loves Shangri-La flowers,’ their numbers had multiplied until they filled the flowerbeds.
Receiving Gérard's slightly misguided attentions, Ortansia came to truly adore the Shangri-La flowers.
It would be no exaggeration to say that flowers connected Ortansia and Gérard.
‘Even in this world where I wasn't adopted by the duke's household, there should be at least a few Shangri-La flowers…’
Holding on to this belief, Ortansia made her way towards the flowerbed.
Just a little further, just a bit more.
But what met Ortansia's eyes when she reached her destination was…
“Eh...?”
The flowerbed she remembered had been filled with a single variety of flower.
But it was not the Shangri-La flower.
Having received Annabel's thorough “lady's education”, Hortensia immediately recognised what flower it was.
‘These are marguerites…’
Wondering why these flowers were here, Ortansia realised instantly.
‘Marguerites—flowers sharing the same name as Marguerite…’
This meant the flowerbed was for Lady Marguerite.
Feeling as though her last hope had been snatched away, Ortansia collapsed onto the ground.
...”This is where you belong.”
Gérard had lifted Ortansia, who was trembling in her nightmare, and spoken those words to her.
But now, all of it has vanished.
The Shangri-La flowers Gérard had planted for Ortansia.
The words he had spoken to her then.
...The time they spent together, the memories, everything.
“Ugh…”
Ever since fate changed and the world shifted, she had endured.
But she could bear it no longer.
“Brother...!”
Calling out to her beloved big brother, Ortansia wept uncontrollably, as if a dam had burst.
She wanted to see him. She longed desperately to see Gérard.
She wanted him to clumsily stroke her head again.
She wanted him to tell her she was an important family member, that she belonged here.
Such wishes welled up deep within her chest, making her ache unbearably.
The falling tears and sobs wouldn't stop.
As if expelling everything she'd held back until now, Ortensia wept on and on.
...And so, she didn't notice.
The footsteps approaching from behind, drawing nearer.
“What are you doing?”
When that voice reached her ears, for a moment Ortansia couldn't tell if it was a dream or reality.
She spun round as if struck, and there...
“Big Brother…”
In a voice so faint it seemed ready to vanish, Ortansia murmured.
Holding a small lamp, looking down at her... was none other than the person Ortansia had longed to see more than anything, Gérard.
The scene from her memory overlapped with the present situation.
Had Gérard come to meet her, just as he had back then?
Trapped by that illusion, Ortansia tried to call out to her foster brother once more, but.
“You... You are the servant Marguerite brought the other day, right?”
At those words, Ortansia's thoughts froze instantly.
‘Ah, yes.’
He was this world's Gérard.
Not the brother who had once shown her the flowers of Shangri-La.
She didn't know why he had come here, but what misunderstanding had she harboured?
To him now, Ortansia was not a sister. She was merely a servant to his real sister, Marguerite.
Ortensia hastily wiped her tears and nodded softly.
He would surely reprimand her for sneaking out in the middle of the night.
At worst, immediate dismissal was possible.
Ortensia waited nervously for Gérard's judgement, but…
‘!’
To her astonishment, Gérard crouched down to meet the gaze of Ortansia, who was sitting on the floor.
When Ortansia was young, her foster brother Gérard had indeed done this several times.
But she had never seen him adopt such an attitude towards a servant, and Ortansia was utterly bewildered.
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