Chapter 4
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Chapter 4: Sometimes, Threats Are Necessary
The guest room Anise was shown to was, to put it simply, a “lady’s room,” brightly colored and almost overly cute. While he found it a bit too charming for his taste, a closer look revealed each piece of furniture displayed the traditional craftsmanship of the Jose region, with delicate, intricate detailing.
As expected of the Marquis of Lavery, he thought, feeling somewhat reassured.
The fabric-covered couch he was directed to by the maid was also adorned with a refined, petite floral pattern and had been reupholstered with fresh fabric. His sisters would likely smile approvingly, saying it “passes.”
He plopped himself onto the couch with a bit of roughness. Though he had made the first move, he still hadn’t found a fundamental solution, and instead, the mystery only seemed to deepen.
(So, the Marquis of Lavery isn’t just involved here, he’s practically chomping at the bit. Just what is he aiming for?)
Since receiving the royal order, Anise hadn’t met the Marquis of Lavery even once. While he couldn’t exactly demand the marquis make an appearance, he felt some irritation that he hadn’t even been given a brief explanation despite being saddled with such an unreasonable command.
For Monica, who was unaware of Anise’s cross-dressing, he was supposed to be a servant hired by the Marquis of Lavery. Based on her earlier behavior, such as mentioning “Father likes blondes”, he assessed that she’d been given at least a minimal amount of information.
Suddenly, an image of Monica’s disheveled state popped into his mind.
(She seriously underestimated me… that attitude was clearly intended to make me give up. Hmph, maybe any other woman would’ve freaked out and fled, but not me.)
Since he was here in disguise, he had nothing to fear.
“Lord Anise, the tea is ready.”
“Ah. Pique, after tea, I’ll write a formal invitation right away. Prepare for that.”
“Understood.”
Pique gave a deep bow and disappeared into the adjoining room.
She was technically a guest room maid of the Lavery family, but she was also in on this hasty scheme. The fact that she addressed him as “Anise” was proof of her cooperation.
The only others aware of the situation in this mansion were the steward, the head butler, the head maid, Pique, and one person who lived in the separate building with Monica. It wasn’t many, but it was more than enough people to spread rumors about him cross-dressing in someone else’s mansion. Determined to be cautious, he took a sip of his tea.
“…Delicious.”
He blinked in surprise.
The fragrance was rich, leaving a subtle sweetness on his tongue. Gazing down into his cup, he guessed it might be tea leaves from the Lavery region. The hue was intensely deep, yet with little bitterness, possibly due to added flavoring. “This is delicious,” he murmured again, impressed.
He was quite the tea lover. He wanted to encourage tea production in his own territory, but since it required extensive labor and couldn’t be sold cheaply, securing a budget for it was a challenge.
(An unexpected find. I’ll take some as a souvenir.)
Anise savored the aroma and finished his tea, finally relaxing against the couch for a short break.
Reflecting on it, these past two weeks had been anything but restful. His daily routine had been filled with meticulously dressing and acting in disguise. Away from his sisters’ constant supervision, he now found himself with a rare moment of solitude. As warmth filled his belly, his corset started to feel all the more bothersome.
Annoyed, he removed his glasses and let them drop to the floor. His hand wandered to loosen the tight collar that hid his Adam’s apple, baring enough to reveal his collarbone. Sighing at the sense of relief, he closed his eyes. A lock of blond hair slipped free, brushing against the back of the couch and growing messier as he leaned back.
In his current state, he looked more like a disheveled lady after an emotional ordeal than anything else.
――A little later, Pique returned holding a writing box, only to stop in her tracks, transfixed by the unconscious allure Anise exuded. She almost felt a nosebleed coming on.
His narrowed brows, the slender waist that didn’t seem masculine at all, the way his collar was just slightly undone—all framed by his disheveled golden hair with a silvery sheen. Her cheeks flushed, and she let out a heated sigh, deeply moved.
Anise opened his eyes to her presence and noticed her trembling with a hand covering her mouth. Finding her behavior suspicious, he asked, “What is it?”
She quickly straightened up in a proper maid’s posture.
“…Lord Anise, you look quite tired, so I shall arrange for your dinner to be brought to your room.”
The well-placed suggestion brought a small smile to his face. It was a truly welcome offer.
“Ah, please do. I’d like to rest a bit… No, I should write the invitation first.”
“Here is the writing box. Also, in the dressing room next door, a dress from Her Highness, Crown Princess Annabelle, and matching accessories from Lady Rotiana have arrived. There are quite a lot of them. Please leave tomorrow’s attire and the preparations for your tea party with the young lady entirely to me…!”
Seeing her expression light up from the mention of “changing clothes,” Anise’s face tensed as he barely managed to reply, “I’ll leave it to you.”
(So, she’s one of them too…)
Apparently, there were maids anywhere who took joy in helping a man cross-dress. He had initially admired her as a competent maid, but, well, without someone of her talents, handling his affairs would be difficult. With these mixed feelings, Anise leaned back into the couch once more.
◇◇◇
Half an hour later, Anise summoned the household staff to gather information.
Before writing the invitation, he thought he should confirm some details about Monica’s life and personality within the mansion.
But everyone seemed suspiciously tight-lipped, unwilling to cooperate.
The steward avoided giving clear answers, saying only, “The young lady has been staying in the separate residence for some time now,” which only served to irritate him.
Then, he tried asking the head maid, only for her to bluntly reply, “I’ve been ordered by the master not to speak of it.” Once again, he learned nothing useful.
When he asked Pique, she responded just as the head maid had, “Please forgive me.”
(What on earth is the Marquis of Lavery thinking? Does he truly intend to do anything about his own daughter?)
He considered calling over the maid from the separate residence, but Pique informed him curtly, “That maid is assigned to the young lady, so I’m afraid…”
Had he entered as the Marquis’s Heir, he could have thrown his weight around, but as he was now, merely “Annie Vincent,” a tutor, he could only exert some authority over those aware of his mission or Monica herself. He didn’t want to create too many enemies within the mansion.
But if he barged into the separate residence without permission, he’d likely be thrown out, or worse, have his disguise as a man exposed.
(So, they want me to draw her out as “Annie”? How tedious.)
Frustrated, he dipped his pen into the ink.
He wrote the sender’s name as “Annabelle.”
“I’d intended to use this later, but there’s no choice.”
Annabelle was his eldest sister and Crown Princess of Jose. She had married into the royal family as the Crown Prince’s wife (Janold’s older brother) when Anise was 10 years old, making her the nation’s next Queen Mother.
Annabelle had sent her beloved younger brother enough dresses to fill a closet and even a replica of her personal seal—a testament to her exceptional support. Anise was convinced it was through her influence that he was roped into this cross-dressing scheme.
Watching the wax melt and pool, he thought,
(Now, how will Miss Monica respond? She’s sure to recognize the real Crown Princess’s seal.)
He pressed the seal into the pool of dark green wax his sister favored, creating a clear lily emblem. Once it solidified, he lifted it up, catching a faint scent from the wax.
“Pique, let her know that she must respond by tomorrow’s breakfast, as both parties have matters to prepare.”
“Understood.”
Anise watched the slightly hurried maid leave the room, then blew out the candle on his desk. He toyed with the smooth, wooden handle of the seal. If he hinted that the Crown Princess backed him, any respectable young lady would be stunned.
“I hope she’s at least sensible enough… I’ve come here for real, after all. I want her to be at least a bit surprised.”
A faintly amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips.