Due To A Mishap, I Gave The King A Love Potion To Drink And I Became Queen Chapter 1-2

Is this your first time reading a Zubeneschamali edition? Please note, there is running commentary through out.

1 Melancholy:
‘Iris? Why haven't you married yet?'

Not again.

The fragrance of b.u.t.ter drifted from the freshly prepared omelette and filled the large dining room of the Reinfeldt House.

Iris had been spreading the house's chef proudly made lemon curd on a freshly baked scone. She heaved a sigh at the question.

‘Even if I say why…' it would only cause trouble. It was not like she could marry herself. (Zuben: Try it. It would probably get her off your back)

Why did her sister always ask this question when she came to visit?

A black emotion stirred in Iris' modest chest.

But there was no point. She was not a child anymore, she was twenty.

Yet, this black emotion remained in the back of her heart.

‘Do not worry too much, Leticia.' Iris said after she regained her calm exterior and began to slather more lemon curd on the scone.

Today was also good…

She bit into the crunchy crust of the scone and her mouth was filled with the exquisite light sweetness that went very well with the tartness curd.

The delicious flavour lifted Iris' mood.

However, Leticia did not consider Iris' feelings, as usual.

Leticia put her cutlery down and said, ‘I cannot help worrying, Iris,' with a furrowed brow.

‘You turned twenty last summer, you should already be engaged otherwise, you will be left on the shelf.'

Their Kindgom of Berghausen was located in the east of the continent. It was customary for young people to début in the autumn of their seventeenth year. Of course, Iris made her début the same as others, but she had not met anyone. Now she was twenty, she would soon be on the shelf, as Leticia implied.

‘That is correct…' Iris replied quietly, but Leticia puffed her cheeks out like a small animal.

‘Are you even paying attention, Iris?'

‘Yes, sister, I am.'

‘So when are you planning on marrying?' (Zuben: Do they sell husbands in the market?)

Iris had no answer to the question. However, she could not honestly say that to her sister. If she did, her already fragile pride would shatter. Iris chewed for a while when she was done, she gave her elder sister a vague smile and replied,

‘In a while…'

However, Leticia was on a mission,

‘Iris, do not give me vague replies. Tomorrow? Next week?' Leticia asked innocently. (Zuben: is it innocent or sarcastic?)

Iris watched the eager sparkle in Leticia's eyes. Her eyes were innocent and green like newly budded trees. But her innocence was the cruellest.

‘You attended the Marquis Foster's soiree last night, and you were asked to dance by many gentlemen…'

‘Leticia…'

‘That's it!' Leticia said clapping for herself, ‘I know a lot of gentlemen, leave it to me. I will decide your husband for you!'

Leticia's innocent casual words have hurt Iris many times.

Whenever they go to a ball, many men invite Leticia to dance; most were hoping she would become their wife. To Leticia, who enjoyed the pinnacle of life as a n.o.ble lady, it was a matter of course. She could not fathom that her sister would want something different from that. She could not understand it.

‘Sister, I am very happy that you want to a.s.sist me but-'

‘Do not hold back, tell me, who would you like to marry?'

Even if Iris tried to gently refuse, Leticia would get upset. She was like a small cute animal wielding a blade in the guise of innocence.

‘From the soiree last night; how about Duke of Braunfels or Marquis Wistria?'

‘That-'

‘Oh, you were also invited to dance by Marquis Phrandor, and after that the Count Cossette who is also acquainted with the Marquis Foster.'

Leticia reeled off the names of the popular gentlemen of n.o.ble society one after the other. Was she serious? It couldn't only be on purpose that she was naming all the men that wanted to marry her.

These men had one after the other ridiculed Iris, feeling sorry for Leticia's younger sister whose appearance and mannerisms were very different from Leticia.

But...it was not her fault.

Leticia was innocent. She wasn't to know that her actions had caused Iris hurt in the past. (Zuben: How would she know she's a blithering idiot if you don't tell her?) Leticia had no malice in her.

If she were like Leticia…

If she has a soft alluring figure that made men want to protect her like their deceased mother.

If she was like her sister with fluffy soft honey coloured hair and glittering green eyes, whom no one would believe she was the mother of a four year old son.

If Iris did not take after the strong dignified appearance of their father…

If she didn't look like a witch with long straggly black hair and amethyst eyes that held no trace of compliance. (Zuben: I need to avoid amethyst eyed female characters from now on. Iris' eyes are now violet)

She wondered if things would be different.

It was hard not to think that way…

Iris was different from Leticia and that was that.

It would not change even if she mourned.

She sighed inwardly and took a sip of orange juice to wash away the discomfort in her throat.

‘Iris, which one of them would you like?' she continued to press with her innocence.

Leticia was not to know that Iris gave up on everything that fateful day, one year ago. After that soiree, she had taken her carriage where her personal maid waited and returned home early. She had decided then to avoid men that wors.h.i.+pped her sister like she was angel and who ridiculed Iris as though she were inferior. She would concentrate on growing her embroidery and lace business.

She wondered if she should tell Leticia truthfully, she did not want to marry anyone. (Zuben: I suggest you do, otherwise you can continue self flagellating)

Maybe Leticia would understand…

Yet, the expectation in Leticia's innocent words pierced Iris' heart like icicles.

Even if she was hurt and irritated, it could not be helped.

Iris was Iris, Leticia was Leticia. Even if they were sisters they could not understand everything about each other.

But the dark emotions swirled in her chest. Boiling up and dyeing her heart black.

It rushed up and out of her mouth and Iris found herself asking, ‘Do I have to get married?'

♔

‘Eh…?' Leticia's eyes widened.

At that moment, Iris thought she had fainted. She should not have said anything, even though it was what she thought in her heart, she didn't have to say it out loud. It was superfluous now.

Reason was trying to stifle Iris' foolishness, but reason got kicked into the corner by the black emotion. (Zuben: Anger. Anger isn't necessarily bad, dear)

‘...because, is it really necessary, dear sister?' 1

The Reinfeldt t.i.tle had been succeeded by Leticia's husband, and they already had an heir.

In addition, both parents left them with an enormous heritage, leaving Iris with enough a.s.sets to live independently. (Zuben: You should just have upped and done that a year ago)

And there was Iris' work as a lace maker

Her late father surely had been conscious of the difficulties Iris would face being compared with her sister since childhood.

When she was old enough, her father had imposed practising far longer or deeper than that of a standard aristocratic daughter would need, so that she could live by her own means from the embroidery and lace.

Thanks to that, Iris received a moderate evaluation as a lace maker, and she had a growing clientèle of tailors that served the aristocracy.

So why did she need to be bound by the fence of marriage?

Once she opened her mouth, Iris could not stop. At the end, Leticia had a look of pure mercy in her green eyes.

‘Why don't you see yourself as lovely, Iris?'

‘Have you not heard what people say about me?' Iris replied.

‘I have heard it all.'

Iris was shocked. Then, why was Leticia trying to dismiss her feelings?

Leticia looked at her younger sister and said, ‘I understand how you feel…'

‘How I feel…?'

Leticia nodded at a confused Iris.

‘You're afraid you're not married yet. That's why you're saying that.' (Zuben: Not listening at all)

Iris had lost comprehension of her sister's words.

Leticia scrunched up her face like she was thinking, then her eyes brightened and she held up her fist like she had thought of a good idea.

‘Right. Iris, leave it to me.'

‘Leave what to you?'

‘We would hold a ball at our home, and I will take responsibility to help you to choose a nice man. How about that?'

Choosing her husband without permission; how does she think that this was a good idea?

Even so far as to invite the gentlemen that viewed Iris as inferior.

‘Stop it, Leticia, I do not need you to do anything unnecessary.' (Zuben: Join a nunnery, you j.a.panese-western historical girls love doing that)

Please do not increase my misery, do not deepen my inferiority complex, Iris pleaded in her heart.

But Leticia was blind to the Iris' distress.

‘Why is it unnecessary?'

‘I do not need you to have a ball for me. As I said, I can live without being married. Thanks to our father, I can keep well.

‘We must do it, Iris.'

Leticia said over Iris.

‘I want Iris to be happy.'

‘Even, if you think so…'

‘Iris, a woman who is not married can never be happy.' Leticia said with conviction, and the words rang deeply in Iris' heart. (Zuben: The simple solution, if you're really serious, pack your load and move to another territory)

Even if Leticia was her sister, it was impossible for her to understand.

Still, Iris had hoped she would understand things from her point of view. She had thought that her older sister would understand her stance. But reality was cruel, even if she wished it, she could be crushed.

‘Why do you not understand, Iris? For women like us, it is happiness to marry a lovely man and have that man's child.'

‘Leticia…'

‘Even our mother said so.' Leticia said with an imploring yet admonis.h.i.+ng shake of her honey-coloured hair quite like their mother.

Their mother had been the daughter of a baron but she won the heart of the former Marquis Reinfeldt at her début.

All of Leticia's gestures stimulated a desire to cosset and protect her. How many men hearts had she stolen with her expressions? How many of these same men had ridiculed Iris, who was not like that.

At that moment, the memory threatened to overflow.

‘It is not the same.'

‘Iris…'

‘I am not the same as you or mother.'

‘What are you saying? I just taught you the right thing-'

‘That is only good for you Sister. The happiness that Mother and Sister think of, and the happiness that I want, are different. Please do not measure me with the same yardstick as you measure yourself!'

Leticia was Leticia. Iris was Iris.

Even if she didn't take after their lovely mother, she had the path that her beloved father laid for her. In doing her lace work and creating many colourful designs, Iris was happy.

What would make her happy was her freedom, which was all she needed.

However, she was soon regretting it.

‘How terrible of you, Iris, why...why won't you understand?' Leticia said, her eyes welling up with tears and large drops ran down her face.

Leticia's greatest weapon: Her crying face. How many people had seen this and never asked for an explanation but blamed Iris.

In her heart, sorrow rose.

I've done it again, she sighed, she had become the bad guy again.

Iris watched Leticia cry in her lovely manner. Tears flowed abundantly, crystal clear drops down her pretty face. (Zuben: Where is her handkerchief?)

Perhaps a woman who can cry at the drop of a hat had the biggest advantage.

Of course, Iris was the evil one making lovely and angelic Leticia cry.

In the eyes of many men, Leticia who cries in such a lovely manner is a weak existence that needs to be protected. For many men, Leticia was their type. (Zuben: we get it. You don't have to repeat it over and over again)

Was it that she had not experienced enough disdain? She who could not cry in public was conceited and arrogant. She was always seen as the bad person.

Why would she never learn?

Iris was upset.

‘What shall we do?'

Leticia's husband, Mattias, came over and held Leticia. He smiled at Leticia as she shuddered and cried in his arms. 

1: ...だって、そうでしょう？　レティシアお姉様

Zuben: In a lot of j.a.panese books, people just appear without preamble withℾ no explanation. They were not in the scene, but now they are. Are we supposed to imagine they were always there, or they just walked in?

♔