Though I Don’t Recall It, I’ll Take Responsibility - Chapter 6

“And see? That’s where our meals are made. If I go there when I’m hungry, Tony the chef gives me secret snacks. Ah…! Wait, that was supposed to be a secret.”

Ral explains everything to me with a mix of pride and earnest intensity, his eyes darting about.

A triumphant smile plays on his lips, and his small hands are a whirlwind of non-stop gestures. He puffs out his chest, clearly wanting to give his absolute all to tell me everything he knows.

Still, for a house provided to a mistress, this is an incredibly grand estate. I can’t help but wonder where the funding comes from.

“Mother, you can go outside from here! Hurry, hurry!”

He tugs firmly on my hand, leading me straight out into the courtyard.

The moment we pass through the doors, a sweet fragrance tickles my nose. Before us lies a sun-drenched bench surrounded by blooming winter flowers.

“Here it is. My favorite spot!”

“My, what a truly lovely place. Thank you for showing me, Ral.”

As we sit side-by-side on the bench, Ral squares his shoulders with even greater delight.

He shrugs and gives a bashful, embarrassed grin. A sight so precious I can’t look away.

Though spring is still far off, the soft green of the lawn sparkles as it catches the light. The perfectly manicured garden looks like a page out of a picture book.

Ral is such a kind, charming boy.

If he grew up to be like this, does that mean “Lara” was actually an affectionate mother? Was she perhaps dedicated to his education?

I had thought she was a madwoman.

But reading her diary and seeing Ral makes me realize once again that I shouldn’t judge a person based solely on preconceived notions.

“Hey, Mother. This is a nice mansion, isn’t it? All the servants are such good people, too.”

Ral’s eyes shine as he puffs out his chest. The desire to show off his home overflows from his entire being.

Even as he gave me the tour, far from looking down on the servants, he gazed at them with eyes full of gratitude and affection. There isn’t a shred of malice in him. I suppose a child raised like this learns to love beauty with a pure heart.

“But we’re moving soon, aren’t we? To the Westray estate.”

…That’s right. I had forgotten.

“Yes. But could you wait just a little longer until Mother settles in?”

“Of course! But is it okay? You were looking forward to moving so much, Mother.”

“It’s fine. I’ve taken a liking to your favorite spot, too.”

Ral’s face brightens instantly, and he breaks into a joyful smile. That smile seemed more dazzling than the flowers around us.

“Hey, Mother. We couldn’t use the Westray name because of that woman, but soon we’ll be Westrays too, right?”

A small alarm bell rings in my head at the casual way those words were dropped.

“That woman?”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Mother?”

Ral tilts his head. Then, a look of realization flashes across his face.

“Ah! That’s right, you forgot. Actually, we could have lived in Father’s mansion three years ago. If only that woman hadn’t done something unnecessary.”

Just as I thought. He said it clearly.

“That woman” and “something unnecessary.” Someone must have taught him these words.

“That woman is—”

“W-Wait, Ral?”

My voice goes up an octave involuntarily.

“When you say ‘that woman,’ are you… are you referring to the person who used to live with your father?”

“Yeah. The person who stole Father from you. You told me so, Mother.”

…Ah. I take back what I thought before.

“Lara” really was a madwoman.

She didn’t “steal” him. To the eyes of the world, Lara was the one doing the stealing.

And yet, she fed her son her own convenient, sugar-coated words like they were poison.

I spoke to Ral slowly.

“Ral, would you come sit on my lap? I want to hold you.”

“Eh? I’m already six. But if it’s Mother’s request.”

Fidgeting and twining his fingers together, he takes one hesitant step. Then another. Finally, as if summoning all his courage, he hops up and settles onto my lap.

He’s light. His small warmth radiates softly through my clothes.

The eyes looking up at me are sparkling, his long eyelashes fluttering with every blink.

“Ral. The fact that we couldn’t live in Father’s mansion, and the fact that we couldn’t use his name, those are problems between Father and Mother. They aren’t that person’s fault.”

Ral stops moving entirely. His round eyes waver.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I think the ‘me’ from before might have explained things a bit incorrectly. So, Ral, I want you to promise me something. Please don’t call her ‘that woman‘ anymore. Can we agree on that?”

Ral hesitates for a moment, his gaze falling to his own fingers on his knees. He clenches his small fists, then looks up at me again.

I suppose he’s heard it repeated over and over. Being told something completely different all of a sudden must be confusing. He is so young, after all.

“Yeah, okay. I promise. I can keep it.”

His voice is small, but the resolve within it echoes in my heart. Such a good boy.

I gently stroke his head, my fingers tangling in the fine, soft hair that is the same color as mine.

Perhaps it tickles, as Ral hunches his shoulders while wearing a smile of irrepressible happiness.

My relief, however, is short-lived.

“Hey, Mother?”

Ral asks in a puzzled voice.

“Then, what should I call that woman’s daughter?”

Another ominous phrase has surfaced.

“That woman’s daughter,” you say?