Chapter 4: The One to Blame...?

Let us turn back the clocks a little to when Mia was being subjected to her father’s interrogation and forced to divulge every affair and episode that occurred at Saint-Noel in meticulous, sequential detail... And instead shift our attention to Bel and Lynsha, who were enjoying a modest welcoming party of sorts at Anne’s home.

So this is where Mother Anne and Mother Elise lived...

The father, whose smile was so gentle, and the mother, quiet but kind, along with the carefree laughter of children... The atmosphere about the dinner table was warm and inviting, not unlike that of Bel’s own upbringing.

Mother Elise...

The face of the woman who’d been like a mother to her resurfaced in her mind. The gentle wrinkles at the corners of her eyes...her calming voice during bedtime stories...and the steadfast dignity with which she entrusted the precious Princess Mia Chronicles to Bel... It all came rushing back to her. After Ludwig... Then after Anne... After they all died, Elise was the one who took care of her until the very end.

That was why, ever since her leap through time, Bel had longed to do this. If, she thought, she’d really managed to return to the past, then few things would mean more to her than having the chance to see Elise again.

Mother...Elise? Is that really you? I guess it should have been obvious, but you look so much younger.

As Mia’s court author and writer of the Princess Mia Chronicles, Elise commanded Bel’s undying respect. To spend her childhood with such a lofty figure had been a very peculiar experience. Elise had often lulled her to sleep by having her ride piggyback, and every time she did, Bel had found no end of comfort in those wide and motherly shoulders. As a child of Bel’s age, however, exuding such a maternal aura was too tall an order for the young writer.

“Hm? What’s wrong, Miss Bel?”

Elise, who’d noticed her staring, sat down beside her with a curious look. Bel had no way of knowing this, but Elise looked far better than she had before. Gone was the sickly, pallid girl, she had been replaced by a young lady of healthier complexion whose physique was, if not sturdy, at least not frail. The money Anne had been sending back, on top of her own earnings as court author, had fully ridden their family of food-related woes.

“U-Um... Is there, uh...” stammered Elise, growing a tad uncomfortable at Bel’s continued staring, before something caught her eye. “Oh, excuse me for a second.”

She reached toward the collar of Bel’s shirt and gently brushed away a bread crumb. Then, she made a stern face and said, “Forgive my rudeness, Miss Bel, but I must remind you that it won’t do for you to walk around with crumbs on your shirt. As someone who is related to Her Highness, you need to conduct yourself accordingly.”

That was the moment the floodgates broke.

Aaah... It really is Mother Elise...

A torrent of emotions washed over Bel, sending alternating waves of nostalgia and fondness through her.

“Oh, uh, sorry, Moth— Erm, Elise... Can I, um, sleep with you tonight? I really want to, um, hear you tell some of your stories...”

The words streamed out of her, almost without her conscious control.

“Huh? Well, I guess— Oh, but your attendant, I thought you were...”

Elise hastily glanced at Lynsha, who shrugged her shoulders with a wry grin.

“Yeah, it’s probably not standard practice for nobles to be bedfellows with commoners, but Princess Mia and milady Bel here don’t seem to be sticklers for social norms. Besides, milady is a big girl, and she can take care of herself. Isn’t that right?”

“I-Is that right?”

“Yes, I know how to behave. Mother Eli— Uh, I mean, my mother made sure to drill that into me.”

She said so with a smug smile—the kind children often wore when they felt proud of themselves for remembering to do as they were told—which proved to be nothing but baffling for the “mother” in question.

Thus, after successfully negotiating her way into Elise’s room, Bel snuggled into the sheets and took a deep breath.

Aaaah... It smells just like Mother Elise...

The mother who had given her own life to protect her. And now she found herself in her presence again. It was the same feeling. The same embracing warmth. So poignantly familiar was the sensation that tears welled up in her eyes.

“A-All right then. Excuse me. I’m coming in.”

Behind her, Elise carefully slipped in. She laid herself flat on the bed, turned her back to Bel, and all but froze in place.

“U-Um, Moth— I mean, Elise?” Bel whispered to the statue beside her.

“Y-Yes? H-How may I be of help?” Elise answered, her voice stiff with tension.

Bel had hoped to enjoy a night of hearty chitchat, but that hardly seemed possible right now. She thought back to those nights when she’d had trouble sleeping. Elise would always tell her stories in a gentle voice. They were mostly tales of adventure wholly unsuited for slumber. Some were so gripping that she thought she’d spend the whole night wide awake, while others quickly sent her off into her own wonder-filled dreamland. Having yearned to relive those priceless moments one more time, Bel found the current situation rather lacking. Her cheeks inflated with dissatisfaction, and she began to think.

Somehow, I need to make it so Mother Elise stops feeling so nervous...

After rolling some ideas around she decided to go with one of her trump cards.

“Um, Moth— I mean, Elise? Would you like to hear some stories about Miss Mia?”

“Yes! Please!”

The next thing she knew, Elise had flipped over and was staring her in the face with wide, expectant eyes.

Aha, that worked. I figured she’d be interested in stories about Grandmother Mia.

Seeing that her approach had been effective, she let out a breath of relief. Then she lowered her voice a little.

“Well then. In that case, I’ll let you in on a little secret, but please keep it just between us.”

Elise nodded vigorously.

“All right.” Bel paused for a dramatic second before continuing. “Did you know that Miss Mia can ride the legendary winged horse?”

“Huh? Th-The...legendary winged horse?”

She didn’t think Elise’s eyes could get any wider, but they did. Encouraged by this success, she kept going, telling the tale with such confidence that she almost started believing it herself.

“That’s right. Oh, and since it’s a winged horse, it can fly. Whoosh! Just like that! I mean, I’ve never seen one myself, but apparently the wings come out of its back, so it must be much harder to ride than a normal horse.”

“I-I’d imagine so. Not to mention you’d also be flying... A winged horse... Wow... I didn’t think they really existed...” Elise gulped incredulously. “And Her Highness knows how to ride them? Wow...”

“Oh, also, I heard she’s been reading ten books a day from a very young age. I tried doing it myself, but I couldn’t get past one book a day.”

“One book a day is amazing enough. Wow... I wish I lived in a place with that many books.”

Bel tactfully left out the second part of her attempt; she read one book a day...for a total of three days, then she gave up.

“Oh, oh, and there’s more. Miss Mia can dance, and when she really gets going, it’s like she’s dancing on air...”

Absorbed in Bel’s fantastical accounts of Mia’s abilities, Elise visibly relaxed. With the ice broken, the young author then offered some details about her own story that she was in the process of crafting, and the two girls kept talking long into the night—to the great delight of Miabel, who relished the chance to bask in the tender aura of her foster mother once more.

...Later that night, Elise slipped out of bed and proceeded to jot down every last detail of the story she just heard from Bel.

“Her Highness is so amazing... She’s like a treasure trove of ideas for a novel... Heck, it’ll probably be more interesting if I just tell the true story. Oh, someday, I hope I’ll have the chance to write an account of her life... I’d call it...the Princess Mia Chronicles...”

Mia, meanwhile, was blissfully ignorant of the fact that Elise was harboring such ominous thoughts. Which, from a mental health perspective, was probably for the best.