Short Story: The Flower is White, the Fruit is Red
Short Story 2: “The Flower is White, the Fruit is Red”
That day, Olivier had been brought along by her mother to attend a Tea Party.
For her, having just turned eight, aristocratic Tea Parties were, frankly, boring affairs.
She was wise enough to understand she’d been brought along to practice the etiquette she had just learned in a real-world setting, which only made it truly tedious for her.
Nevertheless, suppressing her boredom with a carefree smile and offering charming greetings to the wife of Count So-and-so or the daughter of Baron Such-and-such was, well, for the sake of her family and her awareness of being an aristocrat.
She somehow understood that her own family was currently in a somewhat delicate position within the Faltar Kingdom.
The girl repeated her own name, Olivier—a name given to her, supposedly because her elder sister’s name was a bit too short—dozens of times, and with each repetition, the reactions she received made her keenly aware of it.
Insincere and chillingly superficial.
Shown a glimpse of the world she lived in, the girl felt like sighing.