Chapter 8: Chapter 8

I offered a vague explanation.

“It’s nothing impressive. I just thought the two of them had stronger reasons not to greet each other than they did to say hello.”

“Reasons not to greet each other?”

“And I see no reason to explain it to you. Excuse me.”

I slipped away from the cluster of eavesdroppers. Their stares prickled the back of my neck.

“How did she know?”

“I thought all she did was bury herself in books. How does she act like she knows everything about this kind of stuff…?”

Well, I did learn it from books.

Once I was far enough away, my maid lowered her voice and asked,

“My lady, can’t you tell me at least?”

“I guessed.”

I cut her off cleanly, leaving her unable to press further.

Even if I told her I knew the original story, who would believe me?

Eight years ago, Maria’s parents fell for a con artist promising riches, only to be abandoned in the desolate northern Frost Hill territory. While her parents did backbreaking work to adjust to life in the north, Maria was left unattended, making her a target for a slave trader. She was saved, of course, by none other than the young master Arthur, who happened to pass by.

What followed was predictable.

They became friends, sometimes bickered, made up with snacks Arthur smuggled from the duke’s mansion, and Maria read books to Arthur, who hated studying. Their fingers brushed by accident, and both blushed furiously…

By the time they were sixteen, something significant happened.

A monster breached the fortress wall, and Maria’s mother was killed in the attack.

Maria’s father, overcome with grief, lashed out at the northern duke. “How can you call yourself a duke when you can’t even protect your own people?” He declared he couldn’t stay in such a barbaric place any longer and fled south with his daughter.

Afterward, he entrusted Maria to her relative, Baron Meyer, vowing to raise her as a proper lady and demanding she forget her difficult past in the north.

Meanwhile, the northern duke fumed. “The south doesn’t understand the sacrifices we make!” He forbade his son from having anything to do with southerners.

The two teenagers, likely understanding both sides, must have realized one thing clearly: their first love could never be.

Five years later, Maria debuted late into society, hoping to avoid him. But fate being what it is, she reunited with her first love, who had been thinking the same thing.

I’m sure their pupils must have been trembling when they saw each other earlier.

In their heads, they were probably chanting, Don’t acknowledge each other. Don’t get close again! But their hearts were undoubtedly pounding.

It’s kind of cute.

And incredibly enviable.

Why can’t someone like me have someone to like? Not a fiancé I’m marrying out of obligation, but someone I genuinely care for?

…No, that’s too much to hope for.

“I think I’ll head home now.”

“Understood, my lady! I’ll call for the carriage!”

My maid hurried off toward the entrance to alert the servants.

In the meantime, I pretended to admire the scenery of the greenhouse one last time, subtly scanning my surroundings.

I had a feeling someone was watching me.

Usually, when you think “It must be my imagination,” it’s not.

But I couldn’t spot the culprit.

Whoever it is, I hope they come forward and say whatever they have to say.

Because right now, I’m irritated, thinking about my ex-boyfriend—the one who would file a complaint at the library every single time we argued.

***

As April drew to a peaceful close, my father broke the morning's calm with a displeased look at the breakfast table.

“Natalie, the number of suitors visiting you seems to have dropped compared to last year. What do you think about that?”

Surprisingly, his nagging arrow was aimed at my sister instead of me.

But I couldn’t feel relieved just yet. If he shot at a powder keg, I’d still get hit by the sparks!

The powder keg—Natalie—responded gracefully.@@novelbin@@

“Mother should be happy about it. That means fewer bothersome suitors for her to entertain with tea and smiles.”

“Is this really the time to talk like it’s someone else’s problem? You’re already 23. This year, you must get married!”

After a brief hesitation, he added,

“Of course, not just to anyone. The man must have status and wealth!”

Beside him, Mother chimed in with her soft voice,

“Natalie, how about accompanying me to the temple this weekend? If you show your devotion, the ladies might reconsider their opinions of you.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t have the energy to watch you flaunt your donation purse in front of the nuns with a ‘devout’ attitude.”

“How can you say such a thing? My investments in the temple are all for you and your sisters’ sake. Isn’t that right, Doris?”

And now the arrow was aimed at me.

Was Doris supposed to side with Mother in moments like this?

But since I was still in the middle of eating, no coherent response came out.

“Mmff, ju—jusht a min…”

“Doris, don’t you think you’ve been eating a lot lately?”

“No, not at all!”

Mother frowned and addressed the maid,

“Tell the other maids to stop leaving snacks in Doris’s room. And when she’s fitted for her party dress, tighten the corset by an extra inch!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you, Doris, need to start controlling how much you eat! Really, how can a lady eat like a goat, chewing and chewing—”

The atmosphere was thoroughly ruined.

Natalie, looking like she’d lost her appetite, abruptly stood up.

“If any suitors come today, tell them I’m not here. I doubt I’d have anything nice to say in this mood.”

“Natalie! If it’s a titled man, at least meet him—”

“If you want to see a titled man insulted at our estate, then go ahead and invite him.”

Before leaving the dining room, Natalie leaned down to whisper to me.

“Doris, come to my room after breakfast.”

Why is she calling me? Are we even close?

But my curiosity was drowned out by my father’s angry shout.

“Natalie, come back here! Natalie!”

She was already gone, disappearing down the hallway. Father slumped back into his chair, rubbing his forehead.

“Damn it. I was going to bring up the viscount.”

“Oh, dear. Are you talking about Arthur Albion?”

“You know about him too? The young viscount of Frost Hill who’s entered society?”

“Of course! The salons are buzzing about him. Even at temple last weekend, it was all anyone talked about before the service.”

“What do you think? As a potential match for Natalie.”

So this was where the conversation was headed.

To my surprise, Mother shook her head.

“I have my doubts. Would Natalie even want to go to the north?”

“Whether she wants to or not isn’t the issue. The real question is whether this marriage can happen.”

“With her looks and ambition, maybe. But the fact that she’s two years older than him is a concern.”

“Ha! If only she’d snatched up the first or second prince, we wouldn’t even be having this discussion! What does she think she’s so good for, glaring at me over breakfast—”

And just like that, the arrow came back around to me.

“Why are you still sitting there?”

“Pardon? I’m still eating…”

“Didn’t your mother just tell you to stop? You should secure the third prince before—”

“Right, I think I’ll stop here. Eating any more in this atmosphere would just make me throw up later!”

I slammed my spoon down with a clang and left the dining room without looking back.

Father’s enraged voice echoed after me.

“Doris! What’s gotten into you?”

What’s gotten into me?

Why don’t you ask yourselves that question?

The Earl and Countess are seriously infuriating.

It’s been three months since I started living as their daughter. In that time, my hostility toward Natalie has somewhat softened. With parents like that, how could their children turn out normal?

Doris may have grown up quietly, but it wasn’t just because she was kind.

Children of overbearing parents tend to evolve in one of two ways: they either fight back or bottle everything up.

I was the latter in my past life, which is why I feel like I understand Doris so well.

“Doris, you didn’t wait for Tristan out of kindness alone, did you?”

For a lady in this era, marriage is the only way to achieve independence.

Doris pinned all her hopes on Tristan, her metaphorical lottery ticket. Even though she knew the odds of winning were slim, it was her only hope, so she couldn’t give up.

“How depressing…”

I clicked my tongue inwardly as I arrived at Natalie’s room.

“Sis, I’m here—”

“You’re late. Just go back to your room.”

“What?”

Is she training me like a dog?

…That thought barely crossed my mind when Natalie’s door swung open, and her maids poured out, carrying dresses and even a box.

The swish of their skirts signaled their destination: my room.

“Sis! What’s all this?”

“I told you before. Throw out those potato-sack dresses of yours and wear mine. I had them altered to fit your height.”

“…”

Aren’t her comments getting harsher?

Should I be grateful?

Natalie added with a smirk,

“Of course, some men might prefer plain women like you. So, try wearing your usual clothes. If you fail to catch anyone’s attention, then wear mine.”

“Uh… try what, exactly?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

I had no idea what she meant.

Her lowered lashes signaled the end of our conversation.

The door closed, and in a daze, I shuffled back to my room, where maids were struggling to fit all her dresses into my wardrobe.

“How many did she send?”

“Eight in total.”

That’s too much! Does she even have anything left to wear?

The box contained accessories—sparkling rings, necklaces, gloves, and even party masks.

“My lady, would you like to try one on?”

The maid pulled out a dress. Its crimson frills cascaded like a waterfall, reminiscent of Carmen. But while the skirt was elaborate, the top was sparse.

Wearing that would leave my shoulders completely exposed.

“Is there anything else?”

“They’re all similar in terms of how much skin they show.”

“…Just put them away for now.”

“Yes, my lady. Honestly, Miss Natalie should’ve just discarded the ones she grew tired of instead of using them to torment you…”

Her sympathetic tone surprised me, but for some reason, I found myself disagreeing.

“It’s not torment.”

“My apologies, I misspoke!”

The maid covered her mouth and hurriedly left, flustered.

Sure, Natalie’s suspicious enough to warrant doubt.

But would she really go to all this trouble just to torment me?

Maybe she does care in her own way. Or maybe she just couldn’t stand my dresses.

As I leaned toward the latter conclusion, another maid approached me with a whisper.

“My lady, you’ve received a letter.”