Interlude 2: Dorothea
Earlier that day at the Archiam estate, not too long after a certain group of visitors had arrived at the manor, Yumiella had gone downstairs to call upon Count Archiam, leaving Dorothea and Eleanora alone in the room full of dolls. Until that point, the conversation had centered around Yumiella, but with her departure, the two old friends could speak one-on-one.
Dorothea had been elated by the appearance of someone who understood her love of dolls, but once Yumiella had departed, her mood instantly dropped. Naturally, the pair of young women ended up discussing the period after the duke’s coup during which Dorothea had refused to contact Eleanora.
Once she’d heard that Eleanora would be visiting the previous night, Dorothea had been trying to think of excuses for her behavior, but her mind had gone completely blank, and she found herself at a loss for words. It was unclear whether or not Eleanora was able to consciously understand her friend’s dilemma, but either way, she opened the conversation with kind words.
“I’m so glad to see you’re doing well.”
“Yes...” Dorothea responded faintly.
“I didn’t get any responses to my letters, so I was worried that you might’ve been ill.”
“I apologize...”
Eleanora had been genuinely worried. Dorothea was well aware of this, having known Eleanora for a long time. She felt like she was being crushed by her guilt, but at the same time she was glad that Eleanora hadn’t forced her to use the only excuse she’d been able to come up with the previous night. That would have likely made guilt even worse.
“I’m truly sorry,” Dorothea repeated. “I was only thinking about myself. I’m still thinking of ways to make myself feel better.”
“If it helps you feel better, I think it’s all right.”
“It’s not! I, I tried to cut you off—”
“I know,” Eleanora reassured her friend. “After Yumiella explained things to me yesterday, I was finally able to understand things. After all, my father did do something quite awful.”
It would have been much too great a risk for the Archiam family to continue fraternizing with the daughter of a rebel. Things had already been difficult enough because they had been a part of the duke’s faction. It was only acceptable for an unconventional aristocrat like Yumiella to continue to associate with Eleanora.
Still, even if she hadn’t had much of a choice, the fact remained that Yumiella had been the one to take Eleanora in while Dorothea had cut her off.
“You’re the one suffering the most, yet I... I’m sorry.”
“I’m not suffering at all!” Eleanora emphatically declared. “I’m having fun in Dolkness County!” It didn’t seem like she was hiding her true feelings, but Dorothea thought it was a strange thing to say. After all, Eleanora had lost her father.
From Dorothea’s perspective, Duke Hillrose was an unsettling man whose thoughts she’d never been able to read, but Eleanora had been quite close to her father. After losing her mother at a young age, her only family member was surely dear to her. These thoughts made Dorothea believe that Eleanora was forcing herself to broadcast an outwardly cheerful demeanor.
I’m not the one who’s suffering, Dorothea reminded herself once again as she desperately held back her tears. “But, you can’t see your father anymore, Lady Eleanora...”
“What? My father? I went to see him just the other day...” Eleanora paused and then suddenly became flustered. “Oh! U-Um, that’s right, I don’t have a father! His passing fills me with sadness!”
Dorothea was well aware of the fact that Eleanora was completely unable to lie, and she immediately understood that the duke was alive. Eleanora’s slipup hadn’t fully explained the circumstances, but at the very least it seemed that the two of them were able to see one another.
Dorothea resolved to not tell anyone, not even her family, and so she pretended not to notice what Eleanora had said. “I’m sure your father is up in heaven watching over you.”
“What? My father can go to heaven?”
Eleanora’s question was clearly genuine, and the unintentional insult to her father almost made Dorothea laugh, but she did her best to refrain from doing so. Eleanora had left her on the verge of tears just a moment ago, and now she’d almost found herself bursting into giggles within a matter of moments—Eleanora was truly a wonderful friend.
As Dorothea’s shoulders trembled from her attempt to hold back her laughter, there was a knock on the door, followed by the steward’s voice.
“Excuse me,” Kevin called. “I was told that Lady Eleanora should join in on the discussion as well, so I’ve come to take you downstairs.”
“Oh?” Eleanora asked curiously. “I’m to join Yumiella?”
It hadn’t been that long since Yumiella had left the room. If Eleanora’s presence had truly been necessary, then she probably could’ve left with Yumiella. It was rare for Kevin to overlook such details, and Dorothea couldn’t help but feel that something was a little off.
She hadn’t been told why her father had invited Yumiella and Eleanora to visit, but she had an idea. He was probably trying to protect his pointless position, the Lord of National Affairs. Eleanora would probably be fine, since Yumiella and Patrick were obviously much better choices for aid, but Dorothea decided to make sure.
“Lady Eleanora, there’s no need for you to be concerned with our family’s affairs,” she assured her friend. “We’ll be all right; it’ll work out.”
Eleanora just tilted her head in confusion, but Dorothea wasn’t too worried. The pair who stood by her side were much smarter and more courageous than she was. Dorothea was relieved that Eleanora was so well taken care of.
“I don’t understand,” the disgraced former noblewoman murmured, “but I’ll be off.”
“Of course,” Dorothea said warmly. “Goodbye.”
Up to now, there had only been two people outside of Dorothea’s family that had been accepting of the doll room. Eleanora left the place behind for what was probably the last time. And as for the other girl...well, neither of them would likely ever visit here again.
Dorothea sat alone in the dimly lit and doll-filled room. She wasn’t uncomfortable. Looking back on her past, this was probably the natural conclusion to things.
Dorothea was used to being alone. She hadn’t known how to make her own dolls as a small child, and so she’d continuously played with the dolls that others bought for her. Her parents had tried to introduce her to other children her age, but she had always been a shy girl, and whenever she spent time with other girls, her precious dolls would often be stolen from her.
The young tyrants probably had no idea that they were stealing from her. Upon being told, “Give it,” the young Dorothea would always say, “Okay, here,” and she’d inadvertently give her dolls away. It was only after it happened that she would cry.
As she reminisced about these childhood incidents, Dorothea thought that she’d been quite pathetic, and she had to admit that she hadn’t changed all that much. If having her way meant that people would dislike her, then she would defer to others as much as possible. She’d spent all of her days at the Academy unable to stand up for herself.
Because she knew she’d give them away if someone asked for them, Dorothea began to hide her beloved dolls from others. Perhaps she’d gone too far in concealing them, as the ultimate result of this had been this room.
She’d even surpassed the realm of just collecting them when she started making her own dolls, and she’d gained the awareness that people would probably find it unsettling if she showed them off. That had provided a second reason to keep her hobby hidden, and so she further concealed her dolls.
All of that had led to her growing into a gloomy girl who wasn’t very social, but no matter what she wanted, she couldn’t escape from the world of central aristocrats. She already had trouble with the intricacies of maintaining relationships within her own family, but on top of that, she had to deal with the gatherings of her family’s faction, as well as the broader community of central aristocrats.
When Dorothea had entered the Royal Academy, her mother had given her the names of two people around whom she’d been warned to be particularly cautious. One was the second prince, who was the same age as she was. The other was the only daughter of Duke Hillrose, who stood at the top of the faction to which her family belonged.
She recalled a gathering of members of the duke’s faction, an occasion for which she had gotten dressed up just like her dolls. She remembered that same girl that her mother had cautioned her about, standing at the center of the room. Dorothea could still picture the confident, strong look in her red eyes.
Dorothea’s first impression of Eleanora Hillrose had been horrible. In the world of the nobility, there was always someone greater than you, and even the tyrant who stole Dorothea’s doll had tried to curry favor with Eleanora. Dorothea had felt pessimistic about the whole situation—she was painfully aware that she’d have to kiss up to Eleanora until she graduated the Academy, at the very least.
Wanting to avoid her attention, Dorothea had stood in a corner of the gathering, lying low. She had thought she would be able to survive the night without running into Eleanora, but her plan had failed.
No one could talk like Eleanora.
“What are you doing standing there?” she’d ask. “Why won’t you come over and speak with me?”
“But I’m over here!” she’d insist. “I was interested in you because you seem different from everyone else.”
“What’s your name?” she’d persist. “I’m Eleanora Hillrose! It’s nice to meet you, Dorothea.”
“Let’s play together some time,” she’d pleaded. “Today we’re at my house, so I’d like to go to your house next time.”
Her memories were fuzzy, but Dorothea felt that all she’d said in response to the conversational barrage was her name. Eleanora had talked to her because she’d found it strange that Dorothea had been shrinking away in a corner, and she had even pushed to make plans for the two of them to see one another again.
And so it was that a tyrant even more intense than the previous one made plans to arrive at her house. Dorothea had been prepared for her life to be over, but the exact opposite had happened.
The barrage began anew.
“What’s in this room?” Eleanora squealed. “Wow, there are so many cute dolls! Oh, I’m sorry... It’s not right to touch other people’s things without asking.”
Dorothea could only get a word in on occasion.
“What? She’s not a thing, she’s ‘Alice’?” Eleanora exclaimed. “Oh, oh my. You must be so surprised that I suddenly hugged you, Alice! I knew you were special, Dorothea!”
Eleanora hadn’t taken anything, and instead, she’d just genuinely validated Dorothea’s interests. Eleanora was Dorothea’s only friend that she could say that she loved from the bottom of her heart.
“Goodbye, Lady Eleanora,” Dorothea muttered to herself in her empty room. She was surrounded by the silence of the dolls... No, she could hear a sound; loud footsteps echoed down the hallway outside of the room. Both in the past and the present, she was the only one who would barge in like this.
“Dorothea! I completely forgot that I had something I wanted to ask you!”
“Did you forget something?”
“We’re friends, right?” Eleanora asked.
Dorothea was taken aback. “Yes, if you so kindly consider me to be your friend, then I am.”
“I don’t mean what I think! I want to know your opinion!” Eleanora’s gaze fell. “Um, now that I’m not the duke’s daughter, I was worried that maybe we can’t be friends, or something like that...” This was surprising coming from Eleanora, who usually considered someone a friend as long as she felt they were.
Dorothea’s eyes widened to see Eleanora so nervous, but she knew her answer without any hesitation.
“Your family has nothing to do with whether I consider you a friend, Lady Eleanora,” she responded firmly. “You’ve always been my friend, ever since you first picked up Alice.”
“Alice...” Eleanora smiled. “That brings back memories. The current Alice is...the fourth bisque doll, was it?”
“No, there are no generations or anything of that sort. Alice will always be Alice.”
“Oh, right, of course!” Eleanora’s eyes swam with frantic tears.
Seeing her flustered reaction, Dorothea reflected on the uncharacteristically direct way that she’d communicated that they were friends regardless of background. That wasn’t like me. Of course Eleanora is flustered.
“I just wanted to ask that question, which is why I came back. I must go now. Yumiella is surely waiting for me. Well then, I’ll see you again!”
Eleanora had come and gone like a storm.
Some time had passed since Eleanora had first left the room, so Dorothea wondered if she had left in the middle of her discussion with the count and Yumiella to return. She wouldn’t just talk to someone else either... Dorothea shoved that unnecessary line of thought into a corner of her mind and, though her friend wouldn’t hear these words either, spoke to Eleanora once more, even though she knew that only the dolls would hear.
“I’ll see you again, Lady Eleanora.”
After taking a moment to collect herself, Dorothea thought about her irreplaceable friend.
“I’m glad she’s doing well. I’m sure there are plenty of things she can’t get in Dolkness County, so perhaps I should send her some gifts.”
Dorothea knew of Eleanora’s particular fondness for a certain fragrance shop, so perhaps she could send her other cosmetic items. Dorothea had managed to earn a little bit of money as a doll maker, but it wasn’t enough to afford something elaborate like gemstones.
Though Eleanora surely encountered difficulties in living so far from the Royal Capital, there were ways to send items to her. The only problem was that there were some items that couldn’t be sent to her—things that weren’t really objects, but places like the theater or visits with a person.
“I wonder if she still has feelings for Prince Edwin.”
Dorothea thought of the second prince, someone that Eleanora had once believed that she would definitely end up marrying.
He had been incredibly popular. Back before she attended the Academy, when the relationships between children in the aristocratic faction began to form, Dorothea had found herself with many opportunities to see the prince. She had heard Eleanora earnestly go on about how wonderful he was, and she’d known that he was just as she’d described.
Perhaps they were attracted to his position, his appearance, or to both, but all the girls around her age had held feelings for Edwin. Even the girls that had declared their support for Eleanora tried to get his attention behind her back.
Back then, Edwin had been praised for being a genius. Being a shy girl, Dorothea had kept her distance from him, and she certainly didn’t think of him as a genius. Of course, he’d had some innate talents that were above average, and he was in some ways better than other people at some things (including herself), but to her, Edwin seemed like someone who had worked hard to gain his skills.
If they’re going to praise him for being a genius, they should also praise the effort he puts in. Do people become blind when they’re in love? Dorothea remembered thinking when she’d been younger, as someone who’d never been in love.
When you observed him closely, Edwin showed his faults quite often. He’d fail just like a child would, and he sometimes lacked common sense. He’d even make mistakes when showing off his sword skills. But the next time she’d see him show off that same move, he’d always fixed those faults. The only reason that Dorothea had noticed all of these things (despite being someone who wasn’t good at observing people) was because she’d had someone close by endlessly talking about him.
There was something that Eleanora had once said that had confirmed things for her. “Even if things might get worse for you, if there are people currently in trouble, then you need to press forward.” Eleanora had heard this from Edwin, and she’d apparently been deeply moved by it.
Dorothea had thought that Edwin was trying to be perfect because he was the second prince, but she realized that he genuinely wanted to help his people. That motivation gave him the ability to not fear failure, and for the first time Dorothea had thought that Prince Edwin might actually be quite lovely.
And so, because he was someone who could lose today and climb to the top tomorrow, it probably had been difficult for him to accept her—the girl who’d suddenly appeared at the Academy.
This girl had appeared out of nowhere, destroying and changing many things, including Eleanora’s own interpersonal relationships.
Once aristocrats reached the age to enter the Academy, their minds only worked to play social games—practice for dealing with their inevitable future political struggles. This was especially true for the children of central aristocrats. One had to find people with similar interests and work against others who didn’t share those interests while making sure to protect oneself and calculate which relationships would end up being of the greatest benefit. This game existed in the world of noble ladies as well.
However, the girl who had held the most powerful cards—cards that could control the entire game—had been a complete idiot. Eleanora had been surrounded by people, and to those on the outside, she must have seemed like the leader of the faction. But what had actually been happening was that Eleanora had been constantly manipulated without knowing it—the people surrounding her vying to use her to their advantage.
Dorothea had been one of those surrounding noble ladies. She’d never said anything on her own, but she’d never stopped Eleanora from heading in the wrong direction either. When asked for her opinion, she’d go with whatever the group thought instead of Eleanora herself, and she’d only ever give vague answers. Though she’d had concerns about the situation at the time, she’d never had the courage to do anything about it.
The incident that Dorothea had felt was the worst of all was when the clique had decided to target Alicia. Alicia was always with the prince and his friends, and Eleanora, who harbored feelings for Edwin (along with all of the other noble ladies), didn’t think too fondly of her. It had started with indirect harassment, but eventually even Alicia’s belongings had been targeted. Dorothea could look away from the snide remarks, but she couldn’t stand to see Eleanora sincerely believing the validation from her peers and ordering bullying that she didn’t really like. Eleanora had known that it wasn’t right, but everyone around her had said it was the correct thing to do. Eleanora only knew how to trust, and so she’d seemed incredibly bothered by this. If she hadn’t been so upset by the bullying, then things might have escalated to the point at which Alicia could’ve been harmed. Still, Dorothea hadn’t done anything. She had been terrified that the insidious behavior might be directed at her instead.
Dorothea had known that if Prince Edwin noticed what was happening, his attention would bring things to an end, and so she prayed that the bullying wouldn’t cross a line before that occurred. Though she didn’t know if this had been in answer to her prayers, that was when Yumiella had appeared. Just like when she’d turned down Eleanora’s offer to join her faction, she hadn’t hidden how annoyed she’d seemed by Alicia’s mistreatment. She’d called out the ringleader of the bullying, expressionless as always. She’d convinced Eleanora to stop, she’d settled things quietly, and she’d even defended the girl who had actually carried out the bullying.
Ever since then, those around Eleanora had changed. If they’d tried to lead Eleanora down a bad path, Yumiella, who Eleanora liked for some unknown reason, would have heard about it. Yumiella wasn’t terrified of anything, whether it was the intricacies of interpersonal relationships or the immense power of the royal family—things that certainly scared the other noble ladies. Not only was her personality fear-inducing, but her physical power from being level 99 was just as terrifying.
The excessive manipulation of Eleanora had died down, and the most the group had been able to do was to compliment the strange-tasting treats Eleanora would bake. (As a side note, Yumiella had declared they tasted off only after eating an incredible amount of them.)
Regardless, Dorothea had been grateful for Yumiella. All she’d been able to do was watch from the sidelines, but she’d admired how Yumiella, who was also on the outside, managed to take down the others.
“I would’ve liked to talk to Yumiella sooner,” Dorothea said wistfully.
When other noble ladies had accidentally seen the doll room, they’d all found it creepy and had been taken aback.
Dorothea picked up her newly named work in progress. “Nightingale... That’s actually more normal-sounding than I expected. She could’ve given her a really weird name.”
Dorothea, unaware that the name had come from a robot that fought in space, hugged Nightingale. What color should her clothes be when she’s done? Maybe a deep red like the dress Yumiella was wearing would be nice.
“Black might be nice too,” Dorothea muttered, finishing her thought out loud. Though she’d seen many examples of accessories or other details done in black, she’d never seen a doll dressed in black from head to toe. Since Nightingale was named by someone who was unconventional, Dorothea felt that unconventional clothing was a natural choice for the doll.
As Dorothea held the doll, she thought about how little she had changed from back when she had been at the Academy. She’d hurt Eleanora, she was still afraid of others in the nobility, and she couldn’t even share her opinions about the things that mattered to her.
Though she wasn’t too concerned about it actually happening, it was possible that her father was going to try and use Eleanora to force Yumiella to help them. She couldn’t imagine that her father, who was just as passionate about his hobbies as she was, would get involved in such machinations, but if that were to happen... I’ll stop him. Dorothea decided to be courageous for once in her life.
At that moment, though, she wasn’t yet aware that the steward had been busily working behind the scenes...
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