Chapter 6 – A Custom of the Nobility? 

Main Residence

On the following morning, she bid goodbye to the seaside mansion and departed by carriage for the royal capital.
Bianca was told that she had another brother.
For her, meeting a new family member was a nerve-wracking experience.

Nonetheless, in the carriage, her brother remained quiet, her mother was restless and agitated, and Bianca felt queasy.

Once they passed through the extraordinarily enormous gate of the royal residence, they were greeted by the whole staff of servants waiting in the entrance hall.
At the sight of this breathtaking view, Bianca’s feet faltered.

She followed her mother and brother into the profoundly built mansion with apprehension.

Upon landing, Bianca was ushered into an opulent saloon without a moment’s rest.
Unprepared for what awaited her, she faced her father, Godfrey, and her second brother, Julian, both of whom gave Bianca an awestruck look.

“She has slimmed down a lot,” they said. 

Couldn’t they at least say, “We’ve missed you so much” or something similar?

She, nevertheless, eventually became aware of her father’s probing gaze and didn’t feel particularly pleased.
Next to him, her second brother was smiling in a mending manner.

For a reunion of immediate family, it was stuffy and lacked any exuberance.
Instead of the striking resemblance she had anticipated to her father, she was confronted only by a similarity in hair color.
Julian was like his mother, with golden brown hair and eyes.

Dinner that night was so staid that Bianca was inclined to believe that she was not a child of the household but…

Her father, the duke, remarked, “Even if you have no memory, your manners are impeccable.”

Bianca was astounded by the fact that she had no hesitation in selecting the cutlery.

“Bianca seems to have retained some of her memory,” noted her eldest brother, Satias.
He seemed to perceive that.

“Then I hope she retains her memory about academics as well.
Bianca, what about that?”

Bianca was taken aback by her austere father’s question.

“No, I have no recollection of what I was learning.”

When she responded in all candor, notwithstanding, her father became visibly discouraged.
Thereafter, the dinner concluded in an atmosphere of silence, devoid of conversation.

I am worn out.
I would like to believe that this is unquestionably not my house.

After the meal, a maid led her to her room, which was unsettling for Bianca.
While the furnishings were lavish, the room was, to put it mildly, or profoundly, gloomy and heavy, perhaps owing to its black color base.

The black furniture has been buffed and framed in gold here and there, yet it lacks an ounce of glamour.

Even the curtains were heavy dark green.

To top it all off, the bed featured a large canopy.
The fabric was hanging from the bed in hideous taste, which made it unlikely to experience a restful sleep.
It seemed inconceivable for her to grasp her pre-amnesiac self.

In the corner of the soft bed, Bianca curled up into a small ball.
It was much more bearable in the open-air seaside mansion.

I wonder if this means I can redecorate my room.


The subsequent day, Bianca promptly sought medical attention.
She was diagnosed with memory loss.
She was informed that her memories may or may not come back.
No medication existed, nor was it clear what the outcome would be.

At the time, she was fine either way.

The doctor said, “Memory loss may produce a total shift in one’s personality as well,” to which her father reacted, “Can it make a person academically inferior or stupid?” That was his primary focus.

Having suffered a loss of memory, Bianca had no insight into what the affluent aristocrats’ thoughts were.
She wondered if there was such a thing as “I’m glad my daughter’s life was spared!”

In the seaside town, she had witnessed several simple family gatherings.
Yet there was no analogous rapport here.
Bianca racked her brain, wondering if this was the distinction between the aristocratic and commoner.


Afterward, without a moment’s respite, she was swiftly introduced to the tutors.
Although they subjected her to various tests, she was not given the results.

When she recollected the letters, she could read all of them but had no academic knowledge retained, so she could not grasp the terminology.

The infernal week commenced.
The tutors crammed her with studies virtually all day long.
There was no sign of remembrance at all, though.

Halfway through the day, she decided there was no sense in being impatient, so she took it easy.

Then one day, out of the blue, she was summoned to her father’s office and chastised, “Why are you performing at a snail’s pace?”


“Bianca, don’t be despondent.
You’re doing great.”

Later that afternoon, while sipping tea in the salon on her break, she was consoled by her second brother, Julian, who seemed a benevolent man.
Unlike her eldest brother, he was rather tender around her.
And he often smiled at her, which soothed her somewhat.

“I am at a loss.
Brother Julian, I don’t have the slightest recollection of what I have been learning.
Would you please teach me the lessons?”

Julian, who had been keeping a calm demeanor, unexpectedly stiffened his posture.

“Perhaps asking your tutor would be better.
Besides, I think your elder brother would be more qualified than I am.”

Even so, Satias, her eldest brother, never showed up for dinner and returned home much later than Julian.

Unconsciously, Bianca heaved a sigh.
She yearned for the tranquil life at the monastery, where no one would yell at her or reprimand her.

Is not being able to study that terrible?

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