As I watched the calm Junko, for whom what she said was not only the truth but the unquestionable truth, I felt the atmosphere in the room change and even I, the owner of the house, felt uncomfortable. As for Olivia, there was no anger or resentment in her gaze or emotions, only a carefully concealed sadness and acceptance of reality.
— Nevertheless, I would like to ask you, Olivia, to address me by my first name. — I turned to the woman and met her modest gaze. — We may not be friends, but we are at least close acquaintances, and that's a fact, so let's drop the optional formalities where we can do without them. Do you mind?
— If … — Olivia started, but was immediately interrupted by Junko.
— I don't think it's appropriate. — Hoshino spoke in a stern voice, glaring at Massenet. — Etiquette was invented for a reason, and if you, my son, are not respected by those closest to you, how will strangers be able to respect you? I insist that you observe the proper standards of behavior. — Straight back, frozen expression, cool gaze.
— Is that so? — I said in a thoughtful tone. I felt the precious legs tremble, but I held them back, stroking the clean skin affectionately, calming the agitated blonde. The very fact that this conversation is taking place in this living room should make it more casual, and that's if you forget that I have a pair of gorgeous legs of an equally gorgeous young woman on my feet — that in itself is a gross violation of any etiquette. Unless, of course, in some tribe it would be tolerated, if not condoned.
— Well, in a way, I agree with you, Mom. — I said in a thoughtful voice as I continued to stroke Lizzie's tense leg. — But we'll talk about this later. — I pause to catch Junko's eye. — Right now, you should be making sure our guests are well, entertaining them with conversation, so I suggest you leave right now — I don't think running cross-country is going to help your credibility.
— Indeed, — Junko nodded, her appearance remaining the same as it was a moment ago. — You can't leave your guests unattended. — The woman stood up. — And since you're busy, — this time everyone could hear the slight chuckle in her voice. — I, as the eldest, will take over some of the adult duties. — And then she walked out.
We watched the woman's back in silence. We even waited for the front door to click shut. Well, if that's the way she wants it, let her think what she wants, it's her right.
— You know, darling, — my blonde spoke softly in a slightly hoarse voice. — Sometimes your mother can be quite normal, but sometimes I think you could freeze fish on her ass. — I couldn't hold back a smile, but no one seemed to support my mood.
— Or fried, as luck would have it. — I nod. It took a few seconds for the people around me to understand the meaning of what I was saying, but I sipped my tea and popped a small cookie in my mouth.
— It's not nice to do that to your own mother. — Olivia spoke carefully. — Sora, you hurt her. — A short pause. — You shouldn't have done that for me...
— Olivia, please, enough. This is my home and I'm the boss here and I won't let my friends get hurt. It's not my style, you know what I mean? — The woman nodded, and her gaze changed subtly, the threat disappearing from it.
Come to think of it, the woman had already arrived here with that look. The last time we'd met, Olivia had been her usual self, a cheerful, friendly ulcer, in a good way — her jokes had never been cruel or hurtful. So why would she change so drastically? There must be a reason, a very good reason. But I'm not happy at all that my good acquaintance, practically a friend, has turned to me with such a look, as if I'm about to demand that I give up my soul. It's very unpleasant.
— Now that we've dealt with that, why don't we get back to the reason you and your daughter are here?
— Yes, — Olivia nodded, lowered her eyes to the table, took a deep breath and looked at me again. — I guess I should start by saying that I'm a little glad your mother is gone, because she wouldn't have liked the idea of a courtesan staying in her house....
— This is my family's house, my house, and I alone decide who comes in and who stays out. Calm down and continue. — I know it's hard to accept the fact that the head of the house is not a parent, but a child who's really an idiot, but I'm tired of repeating myself.
— All right. (laughs) So, one of my regular visitors, I won't mention his name — it's not important in this case. Anyway, due to certain circumstances, he was forced to marry a witch whose candidacy was not chosen by him, but by the head of his family, based on the benefit of the family, which is understandable. — I nodded at the woman's questioning look, and she continued.
— And let it be, because in France the rules about lovers and mistresses are much simpler than in Britain, such family relationships are often not even considered adultery, because almost everyone has someone on the side, everyone knows everything, and everyone is happy with it. — At that moment I thought that this detail had somehow escaped my attention. Yes, I knew about the freedom of morals, but I had only heard about the variant in which the husband and wife discuss the presence of lovers, ask for permission and approval of the candidate, often even find candidates themselves. We'll have to think about that later.
— But the problem was found where it was least expected: the witch was in love with a man, it was she who was the initiator of this union, and she put a lot of effort into implementing her plan. Once they were married, the witch demanded that all outside ties be severed, saying that her husband would belong to her alone and that she would not tolerate cheating. — Olivia paused for a moment, sipping her tea. Her hands trembled slightly.
— Unfortunately, the husband didn't tell me right away, so the witch had already found out, and the day after I asked him to listen to my wife, she paid me a personal visit. She didn't listen to me at all, and she got so hot that she almost had a spontaneous outburst... — I paused again, but only to swallow the lump in my throat. — ...Or at least that's what I thought at the time....
— Let me guess, she was cursing someone? — The woman lowered her face and nodded. — Did you do an examination? — I tried to remember how I felt when we met today, but it was no use. Was it Arleth?
— Yes, the experts said that the curse is very powerful and that it managed to fix itself in Rosa's energy... — the woman paused, sighing heavily, obviously holding back tears. — ...practically a general curse... — Olivia's tears were still flowing. Sobbing, the woman continued. — The experts say that without the support of birth magic, she has no chance of living to the age of ten... — Elizabeth rose from the couch and sat down at the table, putting her arm around the woman's shoulders in a gesture of support.
— Why did she target Rose? — Afiri voiced my thoughts, focused and even interested.
— As the specialist at St. Mary of Paris had explained, the witch had deliberately agitated herself to the point of gathering magic for a powerful burst. She wanted to curse me, but Sora had given me a protective artifact against jinxes and curses, and it protected me, but the witch was strong and experienced, so instead of dissipating, the curse, having met with powerful protection, found the recipient, the least protected but closest to me... my Rose... — and again the soft sobs of swallowed tears.
— What is the curse? — Afiri asked again.
— The curse deliberately undermines Rosa's emotional stability, literally provoking new outbursts that are always intended to harm my daughter... when her magic stabilizes and strengthens, one of the outbursts will kill her....
— Hmmm, complicated situation ... — raising my eyes to the ceiling, I was already thinking about how I would do everything and how long it would take. — But there is a way out, even two. — The sobbing stopped abruptly and three pairs of eyes stared at me. — Option number one: we find a terminally ill girl of Rosa's age and use a ritual to separate her astral body, clean and intact.