The Truth Comes Suddenly

The venison steak, grilled just so, and a fig sauce stewed down thick were about to be brought to the table. The head chef drew the cork from the Ermaning ‘52 and came to stand at Cedric’s side.

“The Count has quite the memory. You remembered my saying the Ermaning ’31 had disappointed me, and so this time you went and bought the ‘52 especially. Isn’t that right?”

Wine was trickling softly into Cedric’s glass when, out of nowhere, Gloria spoke up.

“Ah, yes. You did say the peculiar coarseness of the ‘31 wasn’t to your taste.”
“That’s right. I’ve heard people differ in how keenly they taste the changes aging brings. Do you remember, Mari? You drank the ’31 quite happily yourself. You know — that time, at the restaurant beside the opera house.”

That dinner at the floating restaurant beside the opera house, I remembered clearly. The day had been Gloria’s birthday and mine both, and Cedric had been there with us too. Just as she said, we had enjoyed the ‘31 that day, and I’d remarked how much I liked the aftertaste it left lingering on the tongue. The very coarseness Gloria now called unpleasant was the thing I had savored.

“The ‘31 wasn’t bad either, but I must say I’m looking forward to the ’52 Cedric brought as well—”
“Mari really is blessed, isn’t she? To think she gets to spend the rest of her life with such a devoted husband.”

All at once, Gloria had cut me off. It happened often enough, given her fondness for putting herself forward, and yet for some reason it grated on me more than usual tonight. And it nettled me, too, that Cedric, who had forgotten our very anniversary, should remember some offhand remark of mine from months ago.

Why do I feel so hemmed in?

I raised a hand and quietly pressed it to the top of my chest. My insides felt tight and clogged, as though I’d swallowed something that wouldn’t go down. My fingertips, stained with fountain-pen ink from long hours over documents, were slowly going cold.

In the end I couldn’t manage even half my usual, while Gloria grew thoroughly tipsy on the fragrant wine. She rose, saying she needed a breath of air, only to sag heavily against Cedric’s side, and without a moment’s hesitation he steadied her, the very picture of a gentleman.

“That scent…”
“I’m sorry, madam?”
“The scent, I mean, the scent. Mm — what is this fragrance? Is it because you went to the workshop today? You smell wonderful, Count. Really quite lovely.”

Cheeks flushed, Gloria buried her nose in the nape of Cedric’s neck and breathed him in. Somehow my head had gone light, and I hurriedly called for my maid, Bella.

“Bella, send for a servant to help Ria to her room.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mari.”

The reply had come from an unexpected quarter. I looked at Cedric, startled.

“I’ll see Madam Ernst up myself.”
“You’re rather drunk yourself, Cedric. Carrying Ria all the way to her bedroom would be dangerous.”
“I can manage this much. And better that I do it than let anyone else lay hands on Madam.”

Before I could get a word out in reply, Cedric, with a maid’s help, swept Gloria up into his arms.

I quietly set down my knife. I had already choked back my suspicions of the two of them more times than I could count. But watching my husband there with Gloria gathered into his arms, an unseemly picture came creeping back into my mind once more.

Why is it — that ever since a little while ago, I can’t bear the sight of those two together?

Unable to help myself, I followed the two of them out of the dining hall.

When we reached Gloria’s bedroom, Cedric laid her carefully down on the bed. Then he walked out so softly that not a single footstep sounded, easing the door gently shut behind him. Toward Gloria, sound asleep, he showed nothing but consideration.

“Mari.”

Cedric met my eyes where I stood before the bedroom door.

“It’s a precious anniversary, one that comes but once a year. Are you not sorry we couldn’t spend it just the two of us?”
“Not at all, Cedric.”
“Even so, I know it must have stung. You haven’t so much as received your anniversary gift yet.”
“But I’ve already had my anniversary gift. That splendid wine, I mean.”
“How could I dare call that a gift?”

As though he found it endearing that I’d genuinely believed him, Cedric let out a soft chuckle.

“The perfumer I met with today — Victor — I’ve placed an order with him for a bespoke perfume as your anniversary gift. It seems to take rather more time to make than I’d expected. I’ll have it brought to you before long, so you needn’t be kept waiting.”

“…Ah.”

I couldn’t bring myself to say another word, and only looked at Cedric. For the briefest moment a flicker of hope rose in me, that perhaps he hadn’t forgotten our anniversary entirely after all.

But when I think of the dismay that settled over Cedric’s face the moment Gloria brought up the anniversary…

Whatever else might be false, that much, at least, was no lie.

This man is lying to wriggle his way out of the moment.

Some lies in this world had to be swallowed whole, even when the person telling them was transparent as glass.

To keep our marriage intact.

To keep the peace between us from shattering.

“Thank you, Cedric.”

I had no choice but to smile back, as if none the wiser.

“The thanks are mine, Mari. Truly — thank you for becoming my wife.”

Cedric pressed a light kiss to the back of my hand. I watched the perfunctory gesture blankly, and then, all at once, I remembered something that had slipped my mind.

Ah — the gift.

Unlike him, I had prepared an anniversary gift in advance, only to miss my moment and never manage to give it. And it was still sitting back in the dining hall.

“Just a moment. I’ve something prepared as well, but I’ve left it in the dining hall. I’ll be right back.”

I wondered what meaning there could possibly be in gifts exchanged as mere ceremony. And yet, if even that formality were gone, nothing at all would be left between my husband and me.

In that self-mocking mood I made my way down the corridor and came to the doors of the dining hall.

“Our poor lady — whatever is she to do.”

At the sound of the maids’ talk drifting through the gap in the door, I couldn’t help but stop in my tracks.

“Exactly. Did you see how dark her face was all through dinner tonight?”
“That Duchess Ernst goes too far as well. Wedging herself between the two of them even on their anniversary — what does she think she’s doing?”

The maids clearing away the dishes had made my husband and me, and Gloria, the subject of their gossip.

For talk like this to be going around even among the servants — this is no small problem.

One word breeds a dozen rumors. If gossip like this began to circulate within the manor, then one day groundless rumors could well spread beyond its walls too.

I’ll have to warn them sternly before any strange rumor gets out.

I was on the very point of stepping into the dining hall to put a stop to the servants’ loose tongues.

“Honestly, I can’t even tell who the lady of this house is anymore. They look exactly alike, which only makes it more confusing. Sometimes the Duchess seems more the wife here than my lady does.”
“Just look at how the Duchess went out to meet the master ahead of everyone earlier. Scurrying off to take his coat for him — really, what an unseemly thing to do.”
“At this rate you’d almost suspect the Duchess is after the place of lady of this house for herself.”

The doubts I’d carried all day seemed to hone themselves to a point and drive straight into my heart, as if feelings I had dismissed as mere oversensitivity were being dragged out into the open before me.

Unable to bear it any longer, I threw the door open.

“…Good heavens — my lady.”
“Wh-what brings you all the way here…”

The maids bowed their heads, faces flustered. I swept past them swift as a loosed arrow and made for the chair.

“I’m looking for the velvet box that was here.”

At that, one of the stiffened maids brought over the gift box she had set aside for safekeeping.

“Here it is, my lady.”

For Cedric’s sake, since he would still be waiting out in the corridor, I hurried on my way. Of course, I did not forget to caution the maids before I left the dining hall.

“However much this is inside the manor, there are watching eyes and listening ears everywhere. Celly. Rina. I’ll summon you both separately tomorrow, and we’ll speak of this again then.”

The maids apologized over and over, spilling out one sorry after another. But I was too busy weathering the sudden tumult inside me to give their apologies my full attention.

That night I waited for Cedric to return to our bedroom from his late work. I felt a real need to settle the matter of Gloria once and for all. Which was only another way of saying that I could no longer turn a blind eye to the whole train of events.

But why isn’t he coming?

The hour had crept up on midnight. I kept my vigil, wide awake, through the small hours, but my husband did not return to the room. I didn’t want to disturb his work, and yet I had little patience left to spare.

And so, deep in the night with everyone asleep, I quietly slipped out of the bedroom and made for my husband’s study.

Where should I even begin with this?

I set about tracing back, slowly and carefully, the reasons this whole business had come about in the first place.

From childhood, Gloria had been a girl who prized being loved by everyone above her very life. Wherever she went she had to be at the center of it, and she curdled with resentment whenever anyone else drew notice in her place. Our father, the Marquis Seymour, had scolded her harshly for such conduct, and as she came of age her failings seemed to mend of their own accord.

No. I had only thought her failings were mended, and that was because, once each of us had a household of her own, I had spent so little time with her. So it was only now, ten months after I brought Gloria to the capital, that I could feel that old failing of hers for myself once more.

That’s right — Ria won’t change. It’s simply her nature: she loves people so, and is so open and unguarded, that at times she doesn’t even realize she’s crossing a line. So I’ll have to tell my husband to keep his distance from her.

I meant to give Gloria a firm warning of her own, but before that, I thought I ought to talk the matter over with Cedric first. As for Gloria, sprawled out drunk, it would be soon enough to speak with her after breakfast.

About then the study came into view ahead. For a moment I wavered. Was it right to lay such a thing on my husband, toiling as he was to so late an hour?

No. This is his problem too. And it’s true that it’s rather too much to pass off as mere kindness to a wife’s sister.

I drew the thin shawl slipping from my shoulders neatly back into place and steadied my resolve.

— Knock, knock.

“Darling. It’s me — Marienne.”

I knocked at the study door, but no answer came back. I rapped again, several times over, waiting for Cedric to grant me leave. Beyond the door, all stayed silent.

Has he fallen asleep in the next room?

Cedric’s study was made up of the reading room and a small side room attached alongside it. The side room held a narrow bed, set there so he could rest between spells of work, and my husband would often drop off there after finishing a long night’s labor. Given that no answer came, he was most likely in the side room.

“I’m coming in, Cedric.”

When I opened the door and stepped into the study, sure enough, Cedric was not there. Instead, a faint light was leaking from the crack of the little door that led to the side room. And from beyond it drifted the sound of a hushed, secret exchange.

“Spread your legs a little wider, Ria.”

The voice was unmistakably Cedric’s.

And if I had heard my husband aright, then the one he was reaching for so desperately in that moment could be only one person…

Gloria. My very own twin.