Momo The Festivities of Marielle Clarac

1. Auflage 2022
ISBN: 978-1-7183-2242-4
Verlag: J-Novel Heart
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 250 Seiten

Reihe: The Tales of Marielle Clarac

The festive season is upon Sans-Terre, and celebration abounds across the capital! Marielle in particular is excitedly preparing for the holidays as the end of the year draws near...

It's a shame that not everyone is able to enjoy the good cheer. Prince Gracius, heir to the throne of an unstable country, has never had a family to share the special day with-much less the freedom to walk the city streets and revel in the festive magic himself. Marielle would love to treat him to a holiday he'll never forget, but it won't be easy! His life is still in danger, and there's an ever-present risk that plans will crumble before he can restore the monarchy of his homeland. With figures from shakily allied foreign countries appearing at every turn, it's unclear who's a friend and who's a foe.

The ninth volume in the adventures of the now happily married fangirl who obsesses over her husband and everyone around him!

Autoren/Hrsg.

Momo, Haruka

Weitere Mitwirkende

Maro

Reuben, Philip

Leseproben

Chapter One

Before I knew it, the final month of the year was upon us. The season always feels so frantic to me, as though there’s something urging me onward. There’s always work to finish before greeting a new year—and, more importantly, Noël! If there’s one thing that defines December, it’s Noël!

In Lagrange, preparations for the holiday begin as early as November, and by the time December arrives, everyone is already bustling to get everything ready. Houses and gardens get decorated, presents get bought, and children and adults alike get to daydream about the delicious dinner they’ll enjoy on the day. Celebrations are held across the city, and store shelves are lined with special goods exclusively for the holiday season. Most stores close in the afternoon on the day before Noël, so the city streets are teeming prior to that with folks buying what they need while they still can.

Those who live far from their families return home to spend Noël with them. On this special day, blood ties are given priority over any romantic attachments. Then, once Noël is over, we spend the very last week of the year with friends, lovers, and such. On New Year’s Eve, it’s customary to throw a modest party at home to celebrate with one’s closest companions. Who to invite, and who will invite you, can in fact be rather thorny matters.

Matthias the butler brought in a silver tray heaped with envelopes. “These are all of the invitations that have arrived as yet,” he announced. “As House Flaubert will be throwing its own New Year’s Eve party this year, all of them must be declined.”

At a glance, there were at least thirty invitations in the pile.

I gave each invitation a cursory look. Even though we’d be turning them all down, it was still important to know who’d sent them. “None of these are guests we intend to invite—isn’t that correct?” I asked.

“Yes. The lady of the house will be writing those invitations. Note that the guest list will include Baron and Baroness Bidault.”

“My grandfather and grandmother? I could understand inviting them for Noël, but surely there’s no need to include close family for New Year’s Eve. Besides, surely my father-in-law will be ill at ease if his boss is there.”

Both of my paternal grandparents had sadly passed already, but I still had two living grandparents on my mother’s side. Her father was the president of Sans-Terre National University, making him the boss of my father-in-law, Earl Maximilian, who worked at the same institution. The hierarchy of academia was distinct from social rank, so in that context, the power dynamic between them as noblemen was reversed. And the earl was a rather mild-mannered and self-effacing man to begin with. With his boss at the party, I expected he’d be on edge all evening, feeling forced to pay the man due consideration.

However, my concerns prompted a cheerful smile from Matthias. “The master has attended many of the baron’s New Year’s parties. The earliest such occasions were during his student days. After all, before the baron was his boss, he was his respected and adored professor. No need to worry—inviting him was the master’s personal wish,” he informed me.

“Oh, really?”

This was the first I’d heard of them being so close. As a child, I’d never been allowed to attend any adult gatherings; even following my debut, I’d still never encountered the man who was now my father-in-law in high society. We’d apparently missed each other quite spectacularly. I’d known that he, too, worked at the university, but certainly nothing about his personal acquaintanceship with my grandfather.

I added, “My grandfather doesn’t talk about that sort of thing.”

His career had undoubtedly broadened his social circle to include a great many important people beside the earl as well, but he was never one to brag. Nor would he dream of exploiting his connections, so House Bidault continued to live a modest life despite its position.

“Well then,” I said, “I suppose I shall start writing the replies.”

I now had my work cut out for the day—answering this mountain of invitations. I thus sat myself down in front of a stack of reply cards and picked up my favorite pen. Though writing was my specialty, it didn’t make the task any less tiring. Shallow pleasantries wouldn’t suffice here, so I made sure to include a personalized message with each card. All in all, it took more than three hours. When I’d sealed the last one and was rubbing my aching hand and shoulders, Lord Simeon came into my study.

“You’ve finished them all? Well done.”

He was dressed informally, looking at ease in just a warm indoor robe, but he looked every bit as dashing as usual.

Lord Simeon walked up to the opposite side of my desk, bent down, and peered at me from across it. “Marielle?”

I was intoxicated by his sheer appeal, which was as strong as ever today. Just below his silky pale blond bangs, his light blue eyes were staring straight into mine. They were said to be like ice, yet also like a blazing inferno. Glasses covered them, giving his profile an air of intelligence.

Realization dawned on his well-formed face. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t assume a praying posture and mutter strange incantations every time you behold my face. Have you had lunch?”

When I glanced at the clock, I saw that the minute hand had already made a full revolution past noon. I stood from my chair, put down the shawl I had around my shoulders, and stretched. My back and hips were stiff from sitting in the same position for so long.

“I asked for a cake salé and wrote the replies while nibbling on it. What about you, Lord Simeon?”

“I did something similar.” He smiled, also working to loosen his shoulders. He’d withdrawn to his own study after breakfast, and the papers he was clutching in his hand told me that he wasn’t quite finished with his business. When I walked around the desk to meet him, he presented them to me. “My apologies. This may not be the time since you’re exhausted already, but I’d like to ask you about something. Would you mind?”

“Not at all. What have we got here?” I took the document and looked down at it. It was a several-page building survey listing problems caused by years of wear and tear, with particular attention to anything declared unsafe. “Is this about the apartment building?”

“Yes,” he replied, ushering me over to the hearth.

I’d grown cold sitting almost perfectly still in this large study while I worked, but it was warm by the fire, which had been fueled with plenty of wood. My cat was sprawled across a rug in front of it, her belly sticking out. Worried that she was so close she might singe herself, I gently pulled the rug farther away. The cat’s triangular ears twitched, and she raised her head, looking annoyed. “There, there,” I said, stroking her. Her fur was indeed very hot to the touch.

My husband and I took seats beside one another on comfortable lounge chairs.

“So, what did you want to ask me about?” I inquired.

“I’ve been looking into how best to handle the deterioration, but as expected, the bottom line is that repairs won’t suffice. I intend to demolish the building and replace it with a new one.”

“Well, I was also thinking that we ought to do that, but what about the residents? What will we do with them in the meantime?” A tinge of worry colored my voice. “Not to mention that the construction will be another huge expenditure.”

This discussion concerned the apartment building Lord Simeon had bought for me not long ago. Rather than simply rent a room, he had purchased the entire building outright. It was probably the most expensive gift he’d ever given me. He’d sought it out when I was looking for a place to have meetings with my editor away from prying eyes. I couldn’t allow my writing career to be made public, and gossip columnists had recently been prowling around my publisher’s office in an attempt to uncover the identities of female authors like myself. The apartment building in question had a rather unusual layout that made it the perfect secret meeting spot. Only, it was really quite old and had essentially been sold under the assumption that it would be demolished and replaced.

In an upbeat tone, Lord Simeon replied, “I bought it knowing that this would be necessary. We’ll take care of the residents, of course. For those who wish to move in again after the construction, we’ll provide temporary accommodations, and for those who...