As we continue walking down the sunlit path, marveling at the glowing plants, I can't help but notice the subtle shift in Orlando's demeanor. Even though he is patiently answering all of my questions about the garden, his tone carries a faint edge of lingering stiffness, and his brow remains slightly furrowed.
Wait a minute, I think to myself. Judging by his tone and how quiet he's getting, he's probably still secretly irritated about me ignoring all those strict aristocratic rules and dressing like this. Did I overdo it? After all, this is a proud, traditional noble family obsessed with decorum. Maybe acting completely carefree and childish wasn't the best move...
A wave of internal panic hits me. Oh no. We just barely started getting closer and repairing our sibling bond. I can't afford to alienate him now! If I want to keep this fragile peace, I need to smooth things over before he bottles up his frustration.
Time to pull out a bit of the emotional intelligence and communication skills I picked up from my old life.
I slow my pace, pulling a slightly hesitant, remorseful expression onto my face as I gently tug on Orlando's sleeve.
"Dear Brother..." I begin, my voice soft and laced with a touch of vulnerability. "Why are you making a face like that? Are you still upset with me over my appearance and this dress?"
Orlando blinks, turning his head to look down at me in surprise, caught off guard by my sudden shift in tone.
"I'm sorry, Brother," I continue, letting out a small, apologetic sigh. "If I made you worry or embarrassed you... I just did it because I genuinely couldn't breathe in those heavy, suffocating gowns. But more than that... you're my family. I figured, since you are my brother, I could let my guard down a little bit around you. Of course, I know I need to follow proper decorum when we have guests or when I'm out in high society. But with you, I thought it would be okay..."
I lower my gaze, letting out a self-deprecating little murmur. "I know I lost my memories, and it's probably really difficult for you to deal with me acting like this. Maybe you're right about everything. Maybe I am being childish, and I need to relearn all these strict aristocratic rules from scratch..."
I let my voice trail off into a quiet, sorrowful little sigh, completely playing the role of the remorseful, emotionally fragile younger sister.
For a second, Orlando freezes. All the lingering irritation and stubborn pride completely vanish from his face, replaced by immediate panic and deep remorse at seeing me look so down.
"W-wait, no! Hey, don't look like that!" Orlando stammers, immediately backtracking as he reaches out to gently pat my shoulder. "I'm not angry with you! Honestly, I... I just wasn't used to it, that's all."
He offers a small, reassuring smile, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Besides... you're right. We are family. If there's anywhere you should be able to relax and be comfortable, it's right here with me. You don't have to follow every single suffocating rule every second of the day. A little bit of recklessness from time to time isn't the end of the world."
He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "So stop looking so sad. You didn't do anything wrong, and you certainly don't need to apologize. You're still recovering, after all."
Yes! Professional negotiation and emotional validation tactics strike again, I think and a triumphant little spark starts to lighting up inside me.
With the air cleared and the tension entirely broken, a genuine smile returns to my face. As we resume our peaceful stroll down the garden path, I decide to steer the conversation toward something a bit more philosophical and probe a little into how high-society women actually live in this world.
"You know, Brother..." I say thoughtfully, glancing sideways at him as we walk past a blooming rosebush. "I was talking to Lily earlier, and it made me realize how restrictive high society can be. In our circles, women practically have zero power over their own lives. They can't even choose their own daily clothes or have personal favorites without being judged. And worst of all... they don't even get to choose their own husbands. They're just expected to marry whoever their family dictates, like pieces on a chessboard."
I shake my head, letting out a genuine sigh of frustration. "It's honestly so infuriating to think about."
Orlando stops in his tracks on the stone path, his eyes widening in absolute shock as he stares at me.
"What?" Orlando gasps, his voice pitching up in disbelief. "What on earth are you talking about..marriage?! Who told you something absurd like that? We would never force you into an unwanted marriage!"