Chapter 82

Two familiar figures were shouting in front of the gate.

It seemed uninvited guests from the Eventail house had arrived.

We knew they were coming to the Sutrena frontier, so we had made preparations on our end.

Lord Nazel had summoned Lord Bertrand (the merchant “Bell”) and Prince Leonard, and they were standing by inside the mansion to help persuade them. It was an incredibly extravagant lineup, but for a certain reason, the two of them had agreed to act.

My brother Paul was visibly tense, hiding behind Torre.

He wasn’t in his “tights style” today either. Ever since coming to the frontier, his Eventail flair had vanished, and he looked just like any other noble child.

My father, Michael, was trying to force his way through by squeezing his stout body into a gap in the gate.

If he could just wait a moment, we would go out to meet him—there was no need for that.

The people of House Eventail were, as a rule, incredibly impatient.

“Ah… the tights got caught on the gate. Father, please don’t struggle…”

I hurriedly rushed toward the gate. If he moved too violently, his tights would rip.

Upon seeing me run over, Father’s eyes filled with rage.

“You’re late, Agnes! Can you not even provide a proper reception!?”

He said that, but House Eventail were the ones who had charged in without an appointment.

It was lucky we had prepared in advance; otherwise, it was entirely possible we could have all been out.

Father’s arguments had been nonsensical since long ago.

When he was in a bad mood, he simply lashed out at everyone around him to vent.

In the past, I used to think I was the one at fault and would get depressed, but… now I understood that there was no logical reason behind the vast majority of Father’s actions.

“You kidnappers! Give me back Paul!”

Mother screamed as she saw Paul peek out from behind Torre and approach the shouting Father.

“Oh, Paul! What is that vulgar outfit!? What happened to your tights!”

Everyone present who wasn’t from House Eventail froze, thinking, That’s the first thing she says?

If someone without a tolerance for them heard “What happened to your tights!” as a greeting, they’d certainly be startled.

Paul flinched for a second, but then he looked up sharply and faced Mother with a dignified expression.

“I wrote this in the letter, but I will not be wearing white tights from now on!”

“What did you say!?”

“Nowadays, I’m the only noble son wearing a century-old costume. Of course, traditional clothing is important, and excellent designs should be preserved for posterity. But my tights are different! It’s just plain embarrassing to walk outside in them!”

“Oh, how can you say such a thing? Do you feel no shame before our ancestors?”

“Even when you talk about ancestors, you’re only referring to the generation since Great-Grandfather, right? Besides, these secondhand tights don’t fit my body type. And while we’re at it, the underwear… the size and the padding are too big. Plus, they’re about to tear because they’ve been worn for so many years!”

Hearing Paul’s words, it clicked for me.

I remembered a laundry maid back at the Eventail estate mentioning it before. The crotch area of Father’s and my brother’s underwear was stuffed with padding!

Apparently, in the old days, there was a trend where the more you stuffed, the better it looked.

As a result, a bizarre culture spread where the more you emphasized the front of the tights—specifically, the groin—the better. Some even started wrapping ribbons over the padding or attaching jewels.

“What has happened to you! Paul, pull yourself together! …Agnes, you did something to him, didn’t you!”

Mother glared sharply at me.

“You’ve clearly been a bad influence on Paul! Don’t you feel any shame wearing such a cheap-looking dress and abandoning our traditional makeup?”

“I don’t,” I replied quietly. No matter how many times I was asked, my answer remained the same.

Paul resumed speaking as well.

“I won’t wear tights anymore, and I can’t support the Eventail way of doing things!”

Both Mother and Father looked on in shock as Father stomped toward Paul.

However, because he had forcibly ripped his tights free from where they were caught, his thigh was now completely exposed. I had to look away…

“What nonsense are you spouting!? Paul, we are going home!”

Father grabbed Paul’s arm and began dragging him away.

But Paul dug his heels in and resisted.

Whether it was the result of his training with Torre or not, he was putting up a good fight.

“I’m not going back! I hate being in a house that just blindly follows a century-old tradition without thinking! Besides, I know that you and Mother have started doing wicked things! I won’t have any part in it!”

“W-what…!”

How does he know that? Why did he say it in front of Agnes and Nazelbert?

Such accusations were written all over Father’s face.

“I’ve listened to many people here and I understand now. What you two are trying to do is traffic unmarried young ladies, isn’t it?”

What Paul said was the truth, and it was the two Princes who had shared the details with us.

Prince Leonard, who had been in the Royal Capital, apparently had already made several arrests.

Robin had been involved with various other ladies besides Liliane, and every time, the Princess’s jealousy led her to pressure the ladies’ families.

Since the scheme involving Liliane had failed, they had switched to a policy of capturing and selling off the girls who had been kicked out of their homes with nowhere to go.

It served to hide the scandals and allowed them to settle their affairs easily.

…It was highly likely the Princess was aware of the situation as well.

In this country, human trafficking is strictly forbidden by law.

If she was turning a blind eye while knowing the truth, she was just as guilty as Robin.

And, of course, that included my parents, who had begun assisting them.