The matchmaking of marie.., p.1
The Matchmaking of Marielle Clarac, page 1
Table of Contents
Cover
Color Illustration
Characters
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
The Headaches of Simeon Flaubert
Afterword
About J-Novel Club
Copyright
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Chapter One
I, Marielle Flaubert née Clarac, aged nineteen, had officially made my debut in society as the newest member of the esteemed House Flaubert!
As a result, however, I found myself in grave danger, the likes of which I had never faced before.
“Oh, how lovely! That white dress has such a polished air about it. It suits you perfectly!”
“Is it an original from Madame Pelagie? It’s delightful!”
“Truly it is! The design is rather elaborate, but you wear it to perfection.”
The gaggle of fabulously dressed ladies all came from houses of great renown. They surrounded me, fixed smiles on their faces, and were showering me with praise. No doubt they had scoffed at me in the past, whether behind their fans or openly in public. When my engagement was first announced, I had been the victim of more than my fair share of malicious gossip, and even snide comments spoken directly to my face.
“What a mismatched couple!” they had said. “How comical! What sort of game is he playing, proposing to a girl so lacking in the looks department? Her family doesn’t even have money or land, so there’s no value to the connection. Why have the earl and countess allowed it?”
The very same people who had laughed at me were now presenting a diametrically opposed attitude. The reversal was so thorough that it was nothing short of impressive.
“You’re so calm and collected for such a young lady! So mature! I couldn’t imagine anyone more suitable to marry into the illustrious House Flaubert.”
“The earl and countess must be so glad to have such a charming new daughter-in-law!”
Their opinions hadn’t actually undergone such a dramatic change, of course. I was quite certain they were still making the same spiteful comments behind my back. However, they made sure to do it in secret, where it wouldn’t reach my ears. On the surface they treated me with kindness, while their true thoughts remained hidden.
The reason was that House Flaubert was far more important than House Clarac. Making an enemy of my own family would be of no consequence to these ladies at all, but inciting the ire of House Flaubert was a far riskier proposition. I’d now become someone whose good favor they had to win with carefully chosen words.
That’s the secret of success in high society, isn’t it? Bending over backwards in public to please others in order to suit your own ends, while the comments you make privately become even meaner and more malicious. Ooh, the dirty world of mud-slinging noblewomen! It truly fires up my creative urges!
As an author, I adored having the chance to observe this up close. It was an excellent means of gathering reference material.
There was only one problem.
“How vexing,” said one of the ladies as their fawning continued ceaselessly. “If my son had been just a tad more astute, he’d have proposed to you before the lad from House Flaubert.”
“Indeed!” said another. “I’m terribly jealous!”
Without ever letting their smiles drop, they continued to spout these empty compliments. It was most impressive. Their strength of will mesmerized me. The hidden irony buried in every sentence was so wonderfully inspiring.
However, I was struggling.
With an awkward laugh, I forced myself to give a polite reply. “Your generous words leave me more grateful than I can express. I can scarcely begin to know how to thank you.”
Ugh, my word! I feel a cramp in my face! How can I possibly remain calm and serene under these circumstances!? It’s not only these few ladies—I swear everyone in the entire hall is focusing all their attention on me, and I simply cannot cope! Please, I’m begging you, stop looking at me! Ignore my existence!
Just standing out in the open, being noticed, made me feel as though my odds of survival were dropping. As a creature that had endured by blending into the background and not allowing anyone to sense my presence, the situation was nothing short of terrifying.
Yes, I’m a pitiful insect that’s now been exposed to the bright sunlight, with no trees or rocks behind which to take shelter. This is a feral kingdom where birds circle overhead and beasts prowl around stalking their prey. An insect, which has no way to protect itself except by hiding, can expect to be nothing but food.
No matter how many missteps I might have taken, I should never have ended up quite this exposed! Heavens, I have no hope of ever living through this. My fate is sealed—I’ll be gobbled up before I know it!
“Marielle, sorry to have left you alone.”
Suddenly, a cool, refreshing wind blew across the parched landscape I was lost in. The tall figure that now stood beside me blocked the excessively strong rays of sunlight, protecting me with his shade.
“You must be rather worn out. Why don’t we go elsewhere and take a moment to rest?”
His gentle voice in my ear, full of consideration for my needs, stopped the ingratiating ladies in their tracks. Nestling close to me now was the one who could chase away the hyenas and vultures, the cheetahs and jackals: the king of all animals.
His pale golden mane—admittedly cut into rather too short and neat a style to be described as such—shone beautifully as it reflected the light. The eyes that looked at me from behind those glasses were as clear as ice, though sometimes they burned with fiery intensity, while other times they were as gentle as the spring sky. His dashingly handsome face was perfectly refined, with firm dignity and delicate softness mixed in just the right proportions, while his trained body moved with effortless energy.
Even knowing about the fearsome fangs he kept hidden, it was impossible to avoid being drawn to his beauty. Look, even that herd of young zebras over there are blushing over him! Well, maybe calling them zebras is slightly odd. I’m not sure ‘rhinos’ or ‘elephants’ would feel quite right, either. Can’t I find a smaller and cuter animal? Monkeys, maybe? Oh, but then perhaps he’s not a lion, but a gorilla. Gorillas are fairly impressive as well!
“Marielle?”
The voice that spoke my name brought me back to reality. The illusion of a vast savannah disappeared and the elegant ball stood before me once more. Beneath the shining chandeliers, the sounds of convivial laughter and clinking glasses rang out.
“Why is your head in the clouds? Are you truly that exhausted? I hope you’re not feeling unwell.”
My husband drew closer still, stooping down to peer at me. I stared intently at his beautiful face beset by a look of worry, and I pondered whether he was more a lion or a gorilla.
“No, I’m quite all right. I was merely thinking about the king of the forest and the king of the savannah. Which environment do you prefer, Lord Simeon?”
“What? Why those two choices, exactly? Wait, no, I’d rather not know. It seems better to avoid asking about either your reasons or your conclusions.”
Without me having realized, we had changed locations. He’d brought me to some chairs by a wall, with the group of ladies from a moment ago nowhere to be seen. Becoming aware that my ever-dependable husband had saved me from them, I heaved a sigh of relief.
“I have to escape from reality or I won’t be able to cope. My word, didn’t I tell you this dress was too extravagant? If I stand out so much, it will surely be the death of me! I must wear camouflage, I simply must!”
He sat me down and got me a drink from a passing member of the serving staff. After gulping down the carbonated fruit wine, I calmed down somewhat.
He replied, “I’m quite sure you won’t die. Personally I’d love for you to wear whatever you’d prefer, but my mother sees dressing to impress as a raison d’être. I doubt she’d allow you to wear the sort of plain and functional clothes that would let you disappear. One might argue that society is all about making an impression, after all. Hiding away rather defeats the purpose.”
I groaned. “My chances of survival are slipping by the second.”
Lord Simeon was high society’s very own Prince Charming—the knight in shining armor who everyone dreamed of. After marrying a man like this, I would never be able to return to my previous way of life. My existence had been one of blending in and secretly observing people as a reference for my writing, but from now on I would have to gather material in a different manner. As the wife of a future earl, it was incumbent upon me to form connections in society and broaden my social sphere.
Of course, I married him knowing this, so I had no regrets, but it was exhausting nonetheless. Society was all about the survival of the fittest, and I was an insect, relegated to the very bottom of the food chain. The bitter fight for survival left me shuddering in fear. Still, I had no choice but to fight on and learn to manage this. It was a requirement for being with the one I loved.
Now that I think about it, it will soon ha ve been a whole year since he proposed to me.
It was around the end of summer. My father brought a suitor home to meet me—one who fit perfectly within my tastes. This dashing young man was an archetype known as the brutal, blackhearted military officer.
His title, Vice Captain of the Royal Order of Knights, was enough alone to light my fangirl fire. He wasn’t the Captain, but the Vice Captain, and that was exactly right. Not the leading role, but the dashing young man with a roguish air who’s often seen in a supporting role—that’s the type of character I adore most of all.
After my societal debut, I’d noticed this perfect man and privately fangirled over him whenever I gazed at him from a distance. How wonderful he is, I had thought as I daydreamed. The only way he’d look better is with a riding crop in his hand.
Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that my ideal man would propose to me.
Naturally, the “blackhearted” aspect of him came entirely from my own imagination. Lord Simeon turned out to be a very kind person. Though he has a somewhat villainous outward appearance that suggests he’s hiding some ulterior motive, inside he’s actually a stubborn blockhead—a straitlaced man who is in many ways the antithesis of me. He is remarkably intelligent and resourceful, and admittedly does have a few blackhearted tendencies, but at his core he’s an excessively earnest and sincere sort of gentleman. In getting to know the real Lord Simeon, not the one I’d created in my mind, I learned that he was a wonderful person and someone I could depend on more than anyone else.
Being not only the heir to a high-ranking house but also a close confidant of His Highness the Crown Prince, it goes without saying that he held widespread appeal as a potential husband. Countless esteemed houses had made offers of marriage; a mere viscount’s daughter like me, with no real rank or fortune to my name, should never have been in the running at all.
Though I feared there had been some kind of mistake, the unbelievable reality was that he had proposed because he was in love with me. Truth really can be stranger than fiction. Though all around considered me to be rather an oddball, Lord Simeon was equally strange in his own way. Certainly, a normal Prince Charming would never have chosen someone like me. Even when they start off downtrodden and covered in ashes, the girls who find their handsome prince are always beautiful princesses themselves. What sort of a prince falls for an insect always hiding away from view?
However, now that my protector had released me from the terror of being immediately eaten, I was able to casually gaze out across the crowds again. When I did so, a few faces caught my eye.
“Oh, those gentlemen are a rather rare sight in society, aren’t they? Marquess Rafale and Baron Caplet—and their two companions are from parliament as well, I believe. I wonder why they’ve all come here today? The head of this house isn’t part of their reformist faction, is he? Though he does have deep connections to the economic world, so I can imagine he has a lively exchange of ideas even with those who are. That must be the connection, maybe.”
When I turned to look at my husband, I wasn’t sure if the expression he looked back with was exasperated or impressed. “It’s tough for me to honestly call it a virtue given your impure motives, but your power of memory is quite admirable. It’s as though you’re able to fit a complete directory inside your head.”
“Impure? How so? I’m just lightly referencing them for my writing, that’s all. Besides, gathering information is a hobby in itself for me.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. It’s always easy to remember new information about subjects one is greatly interested in. For you, people are more interesting than anything else. Isn’t that right?” He let out a small chuckle. “However, I can’t abide the way your attention is always being stolen away by other men even when I’m right beside you. Do you find me so uninteresting by comparison?”
His words had something of a peevish ring to them, but the gaze he turned on me held more than a hint of allure. The man himself probably wasn’t even aware of it, but I was momentarily stunned. Goodness, he has a way of hitting me with a surprise attack. I can scarcely imagine a wife whose heart wouldn’t race if her beloved husband looked at her like this!
“You know the answer to that question. You’ve no need to be mean.”
“Mean? I’m honestly expressing what I’m thinking, that’s all. I’m used to you getting excited at events like this, excitedly observing all the people and gathering as much material as you can, but I do wish you’d consider me a little more. I’m right next to you, but it’s as though you’ve forgotten all about me. It feels rather lonely, I confess. It’s not every day that we can go out together, so I’d like you to look at me.”
I fell silent. My husband, a man who was serious to a fault, had delivered these lines entirely sincerely. There was not even the barest hint of irony in his tone, and I knew him well enough to know he indeed meant every word.
That fact made the intensity of his magnetism even more tremendous. I inadvertently found myself struggling to breathe and on the verge of fangirling myself to death.
My word! How, how, HOW can this spectacular prince be so dense!?
I wanted to scream at him: As if I could ever forget your existence! If there’s anyone who could forget about you, I’d certainly like to meet them! Even in the largest of crowds, you stand out with the tall body that you’ve been blessed with and further honed to perfection, not to mention the dignified way you carry yourself. You’ll catch any eye for at least a moment, and once that happens, a longer glance reveals you as the owner of incomparable good looks, shocking the observer yet again. In terms of sheer presence, you are in a class all your own—so how can you honestly say a thing like that!?
The response I managed was briefer. “I’m looking at you, I promise. If this isn’t enough, I’ll have to look at nothing but you, every single moment.”
“And if I really asked you to do that? To never look at anything but me?”
I swallowed hard as his pretty face came closer to mine. When his light blue eyes were fixed on me at close range, making the hypothetical seem suddenly literal, I honestly felt as though I was about to breathe my last breath.
“Never might be a step too far,” I said hesitantly. “It would exceed my bodily limits.”
Reflexively, I opened my fan and blocked my husband’s gaze. He let out a small chuckle, then delivered a warm kiss to my still-exposed temple.
My word, I’m happy, but so self-conscious! This ticklish feeling is simply too much. I want to shout and scream wildly.
The bittersweet sensation spreading through my whole body was one I liked, of course, but I couldn’t even hope to remain calm.
Occasional passersby made faces of disbelief. Their surprise was only natural; most people knew Lord Simeon only as a man with a perfect smile or a cold, expressionless look. Either way, he was always elegant and composed. From the way he typically presented himself in society, no one would have guessed at his sometimes frightening passion or the sweet nothings he could whisper like this.
The sensuality exuded by this dashing, villainous young man had an immense destructive power. I only wished he would notice that the ruinous impact extended beyond his wife and reached bystanders as well.
The young ladies and married women over there have all been struck by your passion as well. They look as though they’re about to faint! What about that gentleman? Why is his face going red, too? My my, what a wicked husband I have. Young and old, male and female, he bewitches them all and doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
“I’m always thinking about you, Lord Simeon. Now, which do you like better, the forest or the savannah?”
“This again?” he replied in a sullen tone, pulling his body away.
Goodness, my face is burning! How frustrating for every little movement my husband makes to leave me trembling so. I suppose that’s just how attractive he is.
He continued, “I’m not sure how to decide that. If I had to choose, I suppose it would be the forest.”
“Ah, I see. That settles it then. Gorilla!”
“What do gorillas have to do with anything!?”
The longer we live together, the more we’ll feel at home with one another. Being next to you every day, conversing with you, touching you and being touched... Arguing about trivial things and sharing our joy... By way of all these, we will become a family.
