Even If You Tear Me Apart - Chapter 34
The chapters are split like this so that the TL can update more consistently over time (✿ ＞◡❛)
Ezekiel flinched and stepped back.
“…It’s improper to carelessly appraise a lady’s appearance…”
“Oh, appraise, really!”
Étienne burst into laughter.
“I’m just asking if you’re fond of her as a person! Ezekiel, why are you being so sensitive?”
“…My body is devoted to religious service.”
Only then did Ezekiel, realizing he might have overreacted, respond with a flushed face. Étienne laughed to himself, saying, “Right, right.”
“Young Master Henri! What are you doing playing in the rain with your frail body?! Both of you, come inside this instant!”
Missus Babbin’s scolding voice rang out. The sound of the two of them grumbling as they came inside followed.
Thanks to Missus Babbin, Étienne could no longer keep watching the Quilluxia siblings from above—which, strangely enough, Ezekiel found rather satisfying.
One thing was certain: Étienne’s oddly intent gaze on her felt deeply uncomfortable.
…What was this feeling?
‘I was just imagining, that’s all.’
Étienne’s words kept echoing in his mind.
***
It was after dinner that Ezekiel, summoned by Étienne, entered the room Felicia was staying in.
He assumed she had insisted on dragging him in because she wanted to spend more time with Étienne. But the scene that greeted him inside was something he hadn’t anticipated at all.
“Oh my! His Highness is here! Look at this—our young lady is so pretty, isn’t she?”
Ezekiel, stepping into the room, came to a halt.
Inside, the room was packed with Felicia, her maids, Étienne, Iris, and even Missus Babbin.
And standing awkwardly in the middle, dressed in a deep blue gown, was unmistakably Iris. At a glance, it looked like she was about to head to a banquet. Ezekiel stammered,
“What…”
Missus Babbin clapped her hands in delight.
“Lady Arbois gave it to her!”
“It’s not like it was a dress I particularly liked anyway. I never even wore it.”
Felicia feigned nonchalance. It seemed she had ended up giving a few of her dresses to Iris.
“I gave Lady Quilluxia a few dresses as an apology.”
Iris, awkwardly examining the dress she was wearing, responded hesitantly to Felicia’s words.
“But, Lady Arbois… I doubt you packed clothes you didn’t even wear for a trip with His Highness. You didn’t need to do this… It’s too much. It looks far too expensive…”
“Ugh, stating the obvious, aren’t you?”
Felicia scoffed.
“I’m the daughter of Duke Arbois. Like I’d wear cheap clothes?”
Even as she said that, it was clear she had taken a liking to Iris.
There are people who are simply grateful for what they receive, and there are those who appreciate the thought behind it.
Iris had clearly realized that the dresses Felicia gave her were ones she treasured—enough to pack for a journey with the prince she liked.
And Felicia, pleased by Iris’s thoughtful words, seemed all the more eager to heap more things on her.
Come to think of it, Felicia, too, was someone who had been raised with great care—willful and often overbearing. And yet, precisely because of that, she was sensitive to the kindness of others.
At first, it may have been because she cared about how Étienne would perceive her. After all, Étienne seemed fond of Iris, and he had scolded Felicia for mistaking Iris for a maid upon first sight.
But now, seeing her offer Iris her cherished dresses and sincerely care for her, it seemed that her goodwill—whatever the reason it began—had become genuine.
“I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness, Lady Arbois, but—”
“Oh my! Our young lady, this must be the finest dress you’ve ever worn in your life! You look absolutely lovely!”
Though Iris continued to refuse, clearly feeling burdened, there was an unexpected obstacle—Missus Babbin.
Worried Iris might reject such a rare kindness, Missus Babbin loudly praised her even more and tightened the waist ribbon.
“Ugh.”
Iris let out a breathless sound as she bent at the waist, but Missus Babbin paid it no mind and turned to Ezekiel to ask for his opinion.
“What do you think, Your Highness? Doesn’t our young lady look wonderful?”
Ezekiel unknowingly bit his lip.
Iris, dressed more elegantly than usual… was truly beautiful.
She was fifteen. Her face was still youthful, but it was easy to imagine that before long, she would grow into a young woman capable of stirring the hearts of many.
Her usually tied-up silver hair had been gently brushed down and flowed like waves. The blue dress, which revealed her slender shoulders, gave her delicate figure a fresh elegance.
And it matched perfectly with her deep blue eyes.
Ezekiel finally opened his mouth, with difficulty, to speak.
