The Emotions of Others

At that, mother smiled brightly. I didn’t know that my mother cared about me. She seemed to shy away from me, so I avoided situations where it was just the two of us. I’ve never been able to properly exchange words with her. Sometimes she asked if I’d eaten, but that was all she would ask. Was it because she thought I might be resentful?

For some reason, I didn’t want to be discovered here. I cautiously moved away. It was the same for Sandoria. The child retreated. She stood there, peering at them with an incomprehensible look on her face.

I hid quietly among the bushes, and only exited after the three left. I got up and headed for the wall. I put my ear to the wall. I lowered my hand and pressed my heart against the wall that held my former mother’s sweet voice.

What did Sandoria want to hear? The wall did not answer my question.

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Using a fork was more burdensome than I thought. It’s easier to use your fingers than to hold a fork and use it to guide food to your mouth. However, at the teacher’s words, ‘If you want to live like an animal, keep doing it,’ I had no choice but to pick up my fork.

“She said it would turn the wall upside down.”

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Mother was sitting in front of me, laughing. After the rain stopped, it became a sunny summer day. Mother’s hair looked even redder.

“I think the teacher is teaching harshly.”

Embarrassed, I plucked at the rolling tomatoes with my fork. My mother leaned on her chin and stared at me.

My teacher didn’t teach me. But we made a bet. It was a bet I could hardly refuse, since I bet my pride. She said show me you’re not from the back alley, and tell me that what you’re doing isn’t what an uneducated beast would do. She said it’s okay to ignore it. But I couldn’t. 

I didn’t mean to prove those words wrong, but I was bothered every time I thought about it. It was irritating, step by step I followed those words, but I seemed to become quite the person. The more you learn, the more you are able to see. Mother’s elegant hair, her frivolous smile, how dexterous grandpa uses a knife, the perfect actions of Sandoria…

The more I looked at Sandoria the more I realized that I had a lot to learn. Sometimes I felt stifled when I had to review what I learned, compared to Sandoria who is said to have learned it as easily as blowing her nose and hiking. Rather than feeling resentful, I couldn’t help but think she was great. 

As for Sandoria, my appreciation changed for her day by day. Even if she is a delicate and precious lady only in my imagination, she demonstrated an uncommon level-headedness like she didn’t care what was happening, but I also saw the times where she was weak and vulnerable, unable to bear the situation.

I didn’t think that kid took what was mine. I never thought of these things as mine in the first place. 

However, there were times when I was terribly envious. Like when I looked at a portrait of the impeccable child, or when someone would repeat a memorable story that I can’t relate to, or someone’s ability to speak kindly to those they have a hard time dealing with, or when I see that type of kindness that I’m incapable of at the time. 

I was nothing but a sharp blade. I didn’t know why everyone looked upset or sorry for me. 

The status of this pickpocket changed in an instant, but I think I should be grateful. I learned what others’ looks meant after some time. To borrow the teacher’s words, they saw me as pitiful, they seemed to think my uneducated attitude and tone were their fault.

So, it was embarrassing. It didn’t feel like my attitude would be of much use to me or be something they should feel guilty about. 

However, I can’t say that I was wrong because I couldn’t learn every single thing. Plus, we’ve only been tied by our shared family name for less than three months. I didn’t understand the meaning of blood ties, and they too seemed to be adjusting to my presence.

We needed time to become comfortable with each other. My mother was feisty, never sharing friendly expressions with anyone, including my grandpa. She was always busy and was often out. 

To borrow my teacher’s expression, she said my mother was sociable. I was told that, as Yereka’s companion, she needed to care for the people inside and outside the wall. Mother was busy taking care of the duties that were originally my deceased father’s responsibilities. 

Grandpa seemed to be on the soft side. After my father passed away, he became the head of the family again, and my mother kept herself busy, but we’d often make eye contact inside the castle. There was concern in her voice, asking what kind of food was best for me, and if I had any discomfort. I wasn’t foolish enough to not understand.

My mother and grandpa never laughed when we held each other’s hands. But I felt it in my bones that we’re family. Whenever I noticed how we resembled each other, such as eyes that looked like mine, or the similar wrinkle in the bridge of my nose every time I smile, I felt appreciation. Previously, I thought that we were unalike. I wondered how similar parents and children would look to one another.

“Sandoria.”

Mother’s eyes were on Sandoria. I looked at the person in the seat next to me, consuming only water.

“Do you have no appetite?”

“Yes.”

Sandoria stood up. Mother and grandpa had absurd gazes that were focused on Sandoria, but Sandoria walked away as if unaware.

“Sandoria.”

“It’s okay.”

Sandoria replied before grandpa’s words could cool. It was as if she was driven out by the gloomy cloud over her head.  Silence remained in Sandoria’s empty seat. I didn’t know my mother well, but she must be worried when her child leaves with that kind of complexion. 

“Hey.”

I put down my fork that held the salad and responded. 

“Yeah.”

My mother licked her lower lip then questioned me.

“Does Sandoria make you feel uncomfortable?”

Grandpa was close to taking a sip of his drink but put down his glass. He looked at my mother. 

“Sisi, you decided to take it slow.”

“How deliberate should I be. Should I take a year?”

The more I looked at it, the more it didn’t fit. My mother and grandpa’s personalities were at odds with one another. My mother spoke slowly, as if to persuade me.

“If possible, I will try to accommodate you as best I can. What do you think about Sandoria, can we live together like this? Be honest.” 

Mother ignored the stinging gaze of grandpa. Without turning, she spoke directly to me. I answered without hesitation.

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“I don’t have any thoughts about it.”

“You don’t have any thoughts?”

“Yes.”

Rather, I was curious about their thoughts.

“What about mother?”

I don’t know how Sandoria was treated before I came. However, I learned recently, the maids assigned to me were originally Sandoria’s. 

Before a tailor was formally called for me, the clothes I borrowed belonged to Sandoria. I don’t know if that kid was quiet because she thought what she had was mine, or what she presumed. I couldn’t explain what I felt clearly. I didn’t do anything wrong, but should I say I’m sorry?

“Does mother hate Sandoria?”

Mother, who had been sitting proudly, became speechless for a moment. I thought I hit the nail on the head, but I guess not. Then my mother’s eyes turned red. The mask she wore gradually fell, revealing her true feelings. There were times when I was sad to fall asleep after not being able to eat a single piece of bread. I felt embarrassed to make the same expression. 

“How……could I hate her?”

For a moment, my hands stiffened. Rather than her words, it was because of her tears that rolled down her cheeks. My mother seemed unaware she was crying. Grandpa was also frozen; he was so flustered.

“I made that child’s first shoes. How much did I like the sound of the word Mom when I heard it? The first time she walked, the first time she learned to write, the first time the child became frustrated in front of the wall. I recall it clearly. I can’t help but love her, I cherish those memories dearly.”

Mother’s expression did not change. But she was crying. Her yellow eyes were directed straight at me.

“But how about you?”

I blinked because I didn’t know what she meant. My mother’s shoulders shook when she laughed. 

“I don’t know what your first words were, what you liked, not even what you might have looked like when you were young….”

Mother said quietly, ‘it’s unfair.’ After she muttered those words, she shot her water back like it was a shot of alcohol before she stood. 

I could see her turn away to wipe away her tears. I wondered what use it would be to turn away at this point when she’d already shown tears, but I couldn’t utter a single word.

“I’m glad you don’t have any thoughts. It’s easy because you’re not picky.”

Mother looked at me quickly regaining her composure. She even had a slightly relaxed smile. 

“I have an appointment with Mrs. Cathorix, so I’ll take my leave first.”

No matter how much I looked at it, it was a rather clumsy exit. Sandoria’s vacancy, then mother’s exit created an awkward atmosphere between grandpa and me. I reflected on mother’s words. My childhood, my favourite things, the first words I spit.

“Hey.”

“Yes.”

Suddenly the tomatoes were bland. The tip of my nose was as cold as it was frozen. I treated my grandpa with a blunt face. Grandpa was about to say something but shut his mouth. It was clear that he had changed his mind after looking at my face.

“Shall we get up too?”

While I was still seated, grandpa walked over to me. He grabbed the hand that I left on the table and pulled me to my feet. I was so caught up in my helplessness that I only woke when I quickly rose from my seat. Grandpa’s smile was kind when he grabbed my hand while we walked.

“What are you planning to do today?”

“Homework.”

“It sounds like your teacher gives you a lot of homework.”

“I must have a lot of shortcomings.”

We slowly exited the dining room. I thought he would let me go, but he held my hand the whole time we walked down the corridor. 

Beneath my fingernails began to itch, as I wasn’t sure what to do. Then the back of my ears itched, and the soles of my feet grew hot.

“Your mother is not good at expressing her feelings. That’s what she learned when she grew up and that’s all she knows now.” 

After we exited the hall and passed the stairs, my grandpa let go of my hand. He bent down so that we made eye contact.

“If you’re dissatisfied with your progress, you can work on it. Don’t fret.” 

I rolled my tongue inside my mouth. He nodded as if he could see it, but Grandpa laughed in understanding.

“Okay.”

Grandpa’s hand, which I thought was about to withdraw, rested on top of my head. His soft hand ruffled my hair. The lingering feeling of his touch was conveyed to the tips of my ears. It moved to my itchy neck, shoulders, and chest. 

I was suffocated by that one feeling long after my grandpa disappeared. I felt annoyed by the cumbersome feelings that lashed me.

I need to be a better person.

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T/N: you might notice that iara doesn’t address her mother as “my mother” in her pov or calls her mother, it’s coz she still hasn’t accepted her as her mother but don’t worry, she will soon

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