The Whipping Maid of House Calley - Chapter 88

When Sheila checked beneath her nose, Cedric let out a quiet snort as he watched her.

‘You’re only realizing it now?’

Once he’d grown old enough for his mind to mature, Cedric realized that he was handsome.

With the admiring looks people constantly directed at him, it was impossible not to know.

Even the maids looked at him that way, to the point that Cedric had grown sick of those gazes.

But Sheila was different.

The look in her eyes whenever she looked at him had always been filled with fear.

Cedric didn’t have trouble guessing that it was because of the intense first impression he’d given her.

That didn’t mean he had any intention of correcting their relationship.

Cedric realized that this foolish woman had only just become aware of how good-looking he was.

When others looked at him the same way, he always found it tiresome, but Sheila’s changed gaze felt different even to him.

He wanted her to keep looking at him like that.

Even if that desire could be dismissed as the psychology of a dom who wanted admiration from his sub, the fact remained that he felt that way.

Just then, Sheila, who’d finished helping him dress, began rubbing Cedric’s chest with a cloth.

Cedric roughly grabbed her hand.

“That’s enough. Stop.”

With the match right around the corner, there was no point in getting himself hard.

Not knowing any of that, Sheila looked utterly wronged.

Cedric released her wrist and asked, “What are you going to do now?”

“If you allow it, may I rest in my room for a little while?” Sheila asked with earnest eyes.

In other words, whether he competed or not, she planned to sit in her room and knit while there was daylight.

“Do that.”

As long as the servants didn’t neglect their duties, they were allowed to watch the event.

So unless they were busy with work, it was obvious that they’d all flock to the arena to watch the match, especially since Cedric himself was competing.

Even so, Sheila said she would shut herself away and knit instead.

Facing Cedric, who’d granted her permission, Sheila bowed like a proper maid and said, “I pray for your victory, Young Count.”

Hah, just paying it off with words?

Cedric looked down at the small woman for a moment, then replied briefly, “I’ll be back.”

As Cedric turned away, Sheila hesitated, then added one more thing.

“Please don’t get hurt.”

Her tiny, barely audible voice reached Cedric’s ear.

Cedric paused for a moment, but left the room without replying.

At the center of the arena where the tournament was held, fences for the jousting match were set up.

Once the match began, the riders at each end of the fence faced each other across it and charged forward.

The two riders drew closer and closer, and the moment they met at the center, the lances aimed at each other smashed apart with a crack.

Even then, the horses didn’t stop immediately, slowing only after reaching the opposite end.

The victorious rider raised the broken lance high, announcing his win.

A broken lance was proof that it had struck the opponent’s torso, shield, or helmet solidly.

The lances used in competition were deliberately made hollow so they’d break easily. That reduced the risk of injury to participants while giving spectators a more thrilling sight.

Regardless of age or rank, most male nobles took part in the match.

To keep the event moving quickly, each bout was decided in a single round, and the winners advanced to face each other in a tournament format until the final victor was determined.

When it was Cedric’s turn, he took up a wooden lance and stood at the end of the fence.

As the competitors prepared, a faint tension filled the otherwise quiet stands. The moment the judge lowered the flag he’d been holding high, cheers erupted.

Cedric leaned forward and spurred his horse into a charge.

Through the eye slits cut into the top of his helmet, Cedric saw the opposing rider approaching in the same posture atop his horse.

Watching for an opening, Cedric straightened his upper body just before the collision and thrust his lance toward his opponent. The other rider’s lance also shot forward, aimed at Cedric.

Crack!

At the instant the two riders collided, a lance shattered, though it was impossible to tell whose it was.

Thunderous cheers poured down from the stands.

Reaching the opposite end, Cedric raised the broken lance high. At the same time, he expertly guided his horse in a full circle at his spot, performing a victory salute. The cheers only grew louder.

Cedric competed in a total of three matches, and in all three, his lance shattered.

When only four competitors remained, the day’s matches came to an end.

At the referee’s call, the four victors stepped out to the center of the field.

Among them were not only Cedric Calley, but Alfonso Calley as well.

“Regrettably, that concludes today’s matches. Starting with tomorrow’s semifinals, the bouts will be decided by best of three. One of these four will emerge as the final champion!”

The four who would compete again the next day shook the sweat from their hair, removed their helmets, and took turns exchanging handshakes.

“I thought you were just a bookish chatterbox, but you’re not bad?” Cedric said as he held out his hand to Alfonso.

There was no need to bother shaking Alfonso’s hand at all, but after learning exactly what misunderstanding Alfonso was laboring under, Cedric felt a childish urge to tease his younger brother.

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Forced by the eyes around them, Alfonso took Cedric’s outstretched hand and shot back. Alfonso’s expression soured as he grasped Cedric’s hand, and at the sight of his brother like that, Cedric wore a relaxed smile.

***

Perhaps because of the heat from the jousting match earlier that day, the evening banquet grew even more lively than the night before.

By chance, Alfonso had made it into the final four of the joust, and his mood was quite good as well. He drank and mingled in moderation, gazing contentedly over the banquet hall.

Then Eloise caught his eye.

Alfonso stretched out his leg toward her. Taking advantage of the fact that most people were pleasantly drunk, he meant to at least exchange a few words with Eloise.

“My friend. Where are you heading off to like that?”

However, just like on the first night of the banquet, Marquis appeared without a sound, and Alfonso jumped in surprise once again.

“Y-Your Highness.”

“Did I grab a busy man for nothing?”

“No, Your Highness. Is there something inconveniencing you…?”

“Inconveniencing…? I’m having a very enjoyable time. I watched the joust today as well. You were quite something.”

Marquis furrowed an eyebrow.

Faced with Marquis’s burdensome gaze, Alfonso steadied his rattled mind and responded with proper courtesy.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“That aside, I’d like to talk somewhere quieter for a bit.”

At Marquis’s suggestion, the color drained from Alfonso’s face.

“This seems like the perfect place to talk, doesn’t it…?”

Listening to the loud music echoing through the hall, Marquis looked at Alfonso, who was spouting nonsense, with an amused expression.

“It’s about Cedric. Don’t you want to hear it?”

About his brother…?

For an instant, not Cedric’s face but Eloise’s flashed through Alfonso’s mind.

In the end, he took the bait the crown prince had dangled. Following Marquis’s lead, the two of them disappeared into a quiet sitting room.

***

Even while enjoying the banquet, Cedric’s eyes unconsciously followed Sheila.

He disliked watching her carry food and move about, yet when she wasn’t in his sight, she distracted him all the same.

The maid’s words about planning to knit instead of watching the jousting match she was supposedly desperate to see kept resurfacing in his mind.

At first, he’d only disliked that she stayed up late knitting. But after knitting kept taking priority over him, he felt like he was truly starting to develop a genuine aversion to knitting itself.

When the shift changed and Sheila was no longer in sight, Cedric quietly left the banquet hall as well.

He’d fulfilled his obligation as the host by staying late into the night, so it was fine for him to slip away now.

However, Cedric’s attempt to return to his room quietly was thwarted when Sylvia called out to him.

「Cedric! Have you thought about it?」

「What?」

Cedric replied in a tired voice to Sylvia’s abrupt question.

「What I said earlier today.」

Only then did Cedric recall her confession. That alone showed how little he’d taken Sylvia’s words seriously.

Even if it wasn’t a confession outright, Sylvia had often said similar things back in Lotas, trying to stop Cedric from returning home.

None of it ever changed Cedric’s mind.

「I forgot to tell you earlier. Before you came looking for me, I met Lady Vivarini and decided to marry her. The wedding will be next spring. We’ll hold an engagement ceremony at an appropriate time before that.」

If Marquis hadn’t suddenly barged in, this conversation would’ve ended much earlier.

「What? Stop this right now, Cedric.」

Sylvia’s expression hardened at his words.

「Why should I?」

「Does that marquis’s daughter even know her own preferences?」

「That doesn’t matter, Sylvia.」

Cedric and Eloise had already discussed that matter as well. They’d agreed not to have children, so she would’ve understood the rest on her own.

For noble couples, sexual relations were regarded as the same thing as producing heirs.

And the outward reason for marriage was, without question, to bear children and continue the family line.

But Cedric was different. All he needed was a noblewoman who would act as “countess” after he became a count.

Aside from the surface reason of children, there were countless other reasons for marriage.

To function properly as a member of Beloican society, marriage was essential.

If someone passed the proper age without marrying, they were regarded as someone with something ‘wrong’ about them.

Those assumptions soon spread into baseless speculation and strange rumors.

No matter how outstanding one’s achievements were, a single rumor could bring a person down in society.

Even if Cedric were to take a wife from an insignificant family that didn’t match his standing, the situation wouldn’t be much different.

So, as the eldest son of a great count’s house, Cedric needed to choose a bride from a family respectable enough that no one would find it strange.

Fortunately, Eloise suited Cedric’s needs perfectly. What Eloise wanted also seemed to be the title of countess rather than children.

For Cedric, who was pursuing a purely formal marriage for the sake of the title of count, Eloise was the ideal bride.

Watching his firm certainty, Sylvia spoke.

「Your heart is turned toward me. Don’t you realize it?」

It was the first he’d heard of such a thing.

「I don’t know what you’re talking about.」

At his genuinely puzzled expression, Sylvia offered a hint.

「Your maid.」

Sylvia had harbored doubts ever since she realized that Cedric, who never touched sweets, had hired a foreign dessert pâtissier.

And those doubts were resolved by chance.

When she’d gone to his room earlier, she saw it. The precious mille-feuille crumbs clinging to the maid Sheila’s lips.

From the moment Sylvia first saw the two of them together, she’d suspected the relationship between Cedric and Sheila. And only now did that suspicion turn into certainty.

「You’re going to keep my substitute at your side and marry just any noblewoman?」