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"Oh, Brother!"
On the way to dinner, spotting GĂ©rard, Marguerite ran towards him delightedly.
Though he was often away from the mansion for work, today he would apparently dine with the family.
GĂ©rard stopped as well, turning his gaze to Marguerite as she rushed over.
"You'll be joining us today! I'm so pleased!!"
Marguerite gazed at GĂ©rard with an overtly coquettish manner.
Ortansia watched this scene whilst standing behind Marguerite.
‘As expected of a biological duke's daughter. She's good at being charming…’
She recalled how, when her second life began, she'd desperately acted cute trying to get along with GĂ©rard.
Compared to Ortansia frantically playing the "adorable little sister" then, the current Marguerite was a naturally adorable sister.
Surely GĂ©rard must find Marguerite unbearably cute inside…
‘Hm?’
But contrary to Ortansia's expectations, GĂ©rard's reaction was tepid.
"I see."
Saying just those two words, he withdrew his gaze from Marguerite.
If this had been GĂ©rard from the original world and Ortansia had spoken to him similarly, she thinks he would have stroked her head or continued the conversation...
As she pondered this, GĂ©rard's gaze suddenly turned towards her.
‘Oh!’
Ortansia was startled, but looking away now would be disrespectful.
Assuming GĂ©rard would look away soon, she maintained her composure and continued meeting his gaze.
However…
‘Th-this is going on rather long…’
GĂ©rard didn't look away from Ortansia.
As if it meant that looking away first meant losing, he continued staring steadily at her.
‘Oh dear, is something wrong with my appearance...?’
"A servant of the Vérité ducal house must maintain proper grooming at all times" ... that was something she'd been taught when first hired.
Of course Ortansia was trying to be careful, but if GĂ©rard wouldn't look away, perhaps she might have done something wrong.
‘Ahh, what could it be...? Lady Marguerite didn't point anything out…’
Eventually, unable to endure GĂ©rard's gaze any longer, Ortansia looked down.
Yet even so, the gaze fixed upon her didn't disappear.
It was Marguerite's voice, trying to reclaim GĂ©rard's attention, that broke the awkward atmosphere.
"Brother!"
Tugging firmly on his arm, Marguerite drew GĂ©rard's gaze back to herself.
"This dress, it's the first time I've shown it to you, isn't it! What do you think of it!?"
Saying this, Marguerite twirled before GĂ©rard as if dancing.
The hem of her dress fluttered up gracefully, and anyone would be unable to help but admire its beauty.
...Anyone except GĂ©rard.
"You already own dozens of similar ones. Learn to discard things as well as accumulate them."
At this answer, probably the exact opposite of what Marguerite had anticipated, her lovely smile froze for an instant.
But immediately, Marguerite puffed out her cheeks indignantly.
"Oh! That's not what I meant! Don't you think it suits me or that I look pretty!?"
"How should I know? Judge that for yourself."
"You're so mean, Brother!"
Was this the casual conversation of blood-related siblings...?
At GĂ©rard's unusually cold response, Marguerite ran off indignantly.
"My lady...!"
Having been standing dumbfounded, Ortansia hastily stepped forward to follow Marguerite.
But at that moment, a restraining voice came from GĂ©rard, who had remained behind.
"Wait."
The instant that voice reached her ears, Ortansia stopped immediately.
Even if Ortansia was Marguerite's lady's maid, she couldn't possibly ignore the words of GĂ©rard, the future duke.
As Ortansia turned back towards GĂ©rard with awkward movements, his gaze fixed upon her once more.
"...Since then, have you had any troubles?"
Neither rebuke nor admonishment.
Rather, in a gentle voice tinged with kindness, GĂ©rard asked this.
"...!?"
Never expecting such a question, Ortansia was taken aback.
...GĂ©rard was concerned about Ortansia.
But not much time had passed since he had last said the same thing.
"I-I'm fine..."
Unable to gauge the intent behind the question, Ortansia answered.
At that answer, GĂ©rard's brow furrowed slightly with dissatisfaction.
"Really?"
"Y-yes, really!"
"You're not pushing yourself?"
"I'm not!"
Did Ortansia look that precarious to GĂ©rard?
Thinking this made her feel pathetic.
"...Marguerite is wilful, as you've seen. You must have your struggles."
"Yes..."
"If you have even the slightest difficulty, tell me. There's no need to hold back."
"Th-thank you..."
Placing his hand on Ortansia's shoulder like before, GĂ©rard whispered emphatically.
"If anything happens, tell me. Understood?"
"......Yes."
Nodding with a small voice, she watched as GĂ©rard walked away towards the dining room.
Ortansia had been staring blankly at his retreating figure when she suddenly remembered with a start that Marguerite had run off in the opposite direction from the dining room.
‘I must find my lady!’
Hastening in the opposite direction from GĂ©rard, the moment she turned the first corner, Ortansia stopped abruptly.
"My lady!"
Just around the corner in the corridor, Marguerite was sitting on the floor.
"My lady, are you unwell? I'll summon a physician at once…"
"Wait."
Marguerite, who had been looking down, raised her face.
At that moment, Ortansia felt a chill run through her.
Marguerite's expression was tinged with definite anger and hostility towards her.
"What were you talking about with my brother...!"
From those words, Ortansia understood.
‘My lady was watching from here…’
She must have clearly seen the exchange with GĂ©rard just now.
Cold sweat ran down Ortansia's spine, and her heart made an unpleasant sound.
"...Master GĂ©rard commanded me to support you, Lady Marguerite."
When she somehow managed this evasion, Marguerite's expression twisted suspiciously.
"...Really?"
At Marguerite's doubting gaze, Ortansia desperately nodded.
"I see..."
Though her tone suggested she wasn't convinced, Marguerite still stood up.
"Hey, Ortansia. ...Don't get the wrong idea."
Marguerite's gaze turned towards her.
At the cold flame dwelling in those eyes, Ortansia involuntarily caught her breath.
"My brother is kind, but you're just a servant. Don't get any strange ideas and know your place properly."
"...I understand."
Ortansia replied this in a trembling voice and desperately bowed her head.
...She couldn't bear to look at Marguerite's face any longer.
"...Well then, shall we head to the dining room?"
Saying this, Marguerite walked briskly off.
Hortensia, breaking into an unpleasant sweat, quietly followed behind.
...Somewhere, the equilibrium had begun to crumble.
She couldn't shake that premonition.
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