I watched through the window as the blonde maid packed her bags and left the mansion.
It's been about a week since I arrived here. I'm adjusting quite well. Of course, aside from a few oddities, like the soup I'm eating now having a bad taste, it was clear the maids were playing a trick.
The employees still ignored and looked down on me, as if there was some legitimate reason for doing so.
Every time, I'd frame them as thieves and send them to jail, or sneakily trip them and roll them down the stairs, but that wasn't enough. So, I decided to use Celine for this opportunity.
“Ugh. I can’t believe I did something so crazy.”
I gagged a few times, but I held my nose and downed the soup in one gulp. The red-haired maid who came to clear the dishes from my room and saw that I had finished the soup turned pale, almost blue.
“Yes, you ate it all.”
“Then leave it?”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, keeping an indifferent expression.
After the maid hurriedly put the dishes on a tray, making a clattering sound, bowed and left, I gargled my dry mouth with water and spat it into an empty bowl.
As time passed, my stomach started to ache and twist, as if it were going to burst open, and a cold sweat formed on my face. Nausea, chills, headache, and fever all came rushing in, so I knew it was food poisoning.
I endured the trembling pain of the news of the admiral's return and went out to greet him. Since arriving here, I've always greeted and seen him off, regardless of whether he accepted or not. Of course, he turned away with a cold stare.
Celine had also come out to greet the admiral.
She noticed my pale face and purple lips, then put her hand on my shoulder and began to examine me closely.
“Why does your face look like this?”
It must be referring to my complexion, but it feels strangely unpleasant. I hunched over, clutching my stomach, and shaking my head.
“No. I think I ate something wrong for lunch...”
“What did you eat?”
“I must have eaten the same thing as my sister.”
Celine placed her delicate hand on my forehead with a worried expression. Sensing an unusual warmth, her green eyes widened and she abruptly withdrew her hand.
“Is it boiling hot?”
The admiral, who had just arrived, looked at Celine, who was supporting me, with a puzzled expression. He glanced at me, his expression hardened for a moment by the sisterly affection.
“Why is that?”
“I think Diana is sick.”
“Then go up and rest.”
The admiral took off his coat with a nonchalant voice and handed it to the maid.
In this sick state, how could I possibly climb even a single step? What a heartless father, it's hard to believe I'm even his own daughter.
“Dad, please call a doctor. She feels very sick, and she has a really high fever!”
Celine, with a tearful expression, grabbed the admiral's sleeve and began to persuade him. The hypocrisy of her good deeds made me feel even more disgusted.
"I guess so, since the lieutenant colonel is visiting tomorrow, it would be embarrassing to see her neglected in her sick state."
It's been about a week since I arrived here. I'm adjusting quite well. Of course, aside from a few oddities, like the soup I'm eating now having a bad taste, it was clear the maids were playing a trick.
The employees still ignored and looked down on me, as if there was some legitimate reason for doing so.
Every time, I'd frame them as thieves and send them to jail, or sneakily trip them and roll them down the stairs, but that wasn't enough. So, I decided to use Celine for this opportunity.
“Ugh. I can’t believe I did something so crazy.”
I gagged a few times, but I held my nose and downed the soup in one gulp. The red-haired maid who came to clear the dishes from my room and saw that I had finished the soup turned pale, almost blue.
“Yes, you ate it all.”
“Then leave it?”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, keeping an indifferent expression.
After the maid hurriedly put the dishes on a tray, making a clattering sound, bowed and left, I gargled my dry mouth with water and spat it into an empty bowl.
As time passed, my stomach started to ache and twist, as if it were going to burst open, and a cold sweat formed on my face. Nausea, chills, headache, and fever all came rushing in, so I knew it was food poisoning.
I endured the trembling pain of the news of the admiral's return and went out to greet him. Since arriving here, I've always greeted and seen him off, regardless of whether he accepted or not. Of course, he turned away with a cold stare.
Celine had also come out to greet the admiral.
She noticed my pale face and purple lips, then put her hand on my shoulder and began to examine me closely.
“Why does your face look like this?”
It must be referring to my complexion, but it feels strangely unpleasant. I hunched over, clutching my stomach, and shaking my head.
“No. I think I ate something wrong for lunch...”
“What did you eat?”
“I must have eaten the same thing as my sister.”
Celine placed her delicate hand on my forehead with a worried expression. Sensing an unusual warmth, her green eyes widened and she abruptly withdrew her hand.
“Is it boiling hot?”
The admiral, who had just arrived, looked at Celine, who was supporting me, with a puzzled expression. He glanced at me, his expression hardened for a moment by the sisterly affection.
“Why is that?”
“I think Diana is sick.”
“Then go up and rest.”
The admiral took off his coat with a nonchalant voice and handed it to the maid.
In this sick state, how could I possibly climb even a single step? What a heartless father, it's hard to believe I'm even his own daughter.
“Dad, please call a doctor. She feels very sick, and she has a really high fever!”
Celine, with a tearful expression, grabbed the admiral's sleeve and began to persuade him. The hypocrisy of her good deeds made me feel even more disgusted.
"I guess so, since the lieutenant colonel is visiting tomorrow, it would be embarrassing to see her neglected in her sick state."
The admiral, with a helpless expression, summoned the maid and ordered her to bring a doctor.
I groaned and was carried to my room by the maids. Why on earth was it the third floor?
With every step I took, my whole body screamed for help. I finally made it to my room and collapsed on the bed, unable to move.
My palms felt clammy and cold. Despite the blanket, I felt a chill run down my spine, and my lips trembled. When I opened my eyes, the ivory ceiling rippled and trembled.
I gasped for breath, suffering from dizziness and nausea, akin to motion sickness. If Noah had been there, he would have been fussing, saying ominous things like, "Princess, don't leave me behind and die."
“Miss, the doctor has arrived.”
The maid came in and announced that the doctor had arrived. An older man wearing glasses, he examined me, prescribed some medicine, and gave me some precautions.
“...There’s no way you’d be the only one getting food poisoning.”
The doctor tilted his head in puzzlement and muttered to himself. "If the soup they made that day had gone bad, everyone in the mansion would have been sick." Celine, sitting at the edge of the bed, repeatedly wiped the sweat from her forehead and asked the doctor.
“Doctor, will she feel better tomorrow?”
“She should take a week off and rest without overdoing it.”
The doctor left, and Celine put down the wet towel she was holding. Her green eyes, filled with concern, surveyed my condition.
“You can’t see the lieutenant colonel because you're sick. I’ll tell him.”
“I already told the maid to pass it on.”
"What?"
Celine, who was pulling her platinum hair back like sunlight, asked with a startled expression.
“I said I was sick. He asked me to tell him even the smallest things.”
“Yeah, I see. Take a rest now.”
As she lowered her long eyelashes, a shadow of worry fell over her once-pale face. One might question the fact that I, a person newly rescued from an enemy country and subject to special treatment, was the only one to contract food poisoning.
If they were to investigate with suspicion of poisoning intentions on the part of Frogen, the fact that the maid had been playing a prank and the treatment I had received would all be revealed.
The lieutenant colonel visits the mansion once a week under the pretext of checking on my condition. Celine has always been anxious that he will find out about the treatment I've received and the fact that she's ignored it.
“Sister, don’t you think it’s strange that I’m the only one with food poisoning?”
Celine, who was about to leave the room at my words, who carried a heavy meaning, quietly turned to look at me. I pulled my dry lips aside, giving her a smile that was as innocent as it was innocent.
“So what should we do now?”
I asked her, even though I already knew the answer. She concealed her anger perfectly and gave me the answer with a calm look in her eyes.
“Yeah. Who brought you lunch?”
The Admiral and Celine have no choice but to watch my every move. Even when the maid brought me a dress with an ironed hole, I wore it to meet Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal. Celine tried to make excuses and got the situation covered up, but if this continues, things will get awkward.
Before leaving Frogen and coming to the Admiral's mansion, I had one request for the Lieutenant Colonel.
“Please come see me once a week.”
“Of course I will, but could you tell me why?”
The lieutenant colonel looked down at me and asked in a gentle tone. I kept my mouth shut for a moment, then looked up at him with a sharp gaze and spoke confidently.
You brought me here, knowing our relationship. You knew how I would be treated here. I'll admit you risked your life to rescue me, but was it truly for my own good?
"It's a matter of responsibility. Ambiguous favors can make the other person even more unhappy."
Kindness and good deeds that are not performed with empathy may be applauded by everyone on the surface, but they often do not help the person involved much.
It's like building a ton of eco-friendly playgrounds for children who are starving and too weak to play in a parched drought where not a single blade of grass grows. This is nothing more than self-indulgent arrogance and a pretext for gaining social acclaim.
I smiled bitterly at him and stroked the necklace around my neck. I won't be a victim of your love games.
In most cases like this, the protagonist, often portrayed as a supporting character, often takes on the role of a villain. The villain is someone who highlights the protagonist's abilities and goodness, and even when the protagonist acts in a way that feels wrong, they are justified and justified.
Here, Noah is the villain. The protagonists will commit necessary evils against the villain to demonstrate their own sense of justice.
As if you had come to rescue me.
I, too, plan to take on the role of a villain, sabotaging and preventing the Colonel and Celine from connecting. I'll exploit Celine's duplicity and hypocrisy, like the dark side of the moon, and the abuse I endured from this family as my weaknesses.
It's a good intention to prevent a split personality from forming with a woman whose feelings, fate, and everything else are part of the plan, so this is also a good deed and justice. As I pondered the aftermath of the plan, I lowered my eyes to banish the fleeting afterimages that suddenly surfaced.
To survive hell, I must become a demon. When hell disappears, will all that's left be me, a demon?
What should I do then?
"Jeffrey, you've done a remarkable job. You've truly put noblesse oblige into practice."
A black-haired man dressed in a neat suit smiled gently at Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal. It was Jace Groenendaal, the first and heir of the Groenendaal family.
He was a businessman with outstanding acumen, one of the financial powers that accumulated capital by investing in bills of exchange, stocks, and bonds.
He had an intellectual appearance that seemed far removed from war, and he had an image that was both similar to that of his younger brother, the lieutenant colonel, and yet completely opposite.
His intellectual appearance, wearing thin silver-rimmed glasses, his smooth, flawless face, and his long, slender fingers that had grown without any hardships, made him worthy of being called 'Young Master.'
The lieutenant colonel, who sat motionless at his desk in the study, filled with military books, looked up at his brother. The soldier's sharp eyes met the sharp, calculating eyes of a businessman.
Their gazes were different yet similar.
“What is going on here?”
Jace had suddenly arrived at the lieutenant colonel's mansion. He was sullen and unwelcome, even to the visit of his brother, a family member.
“I came to congratulate you, since you are being hailed as a hero of Belford.”
"I'll say it again, I have no interest in the succession, so I hope you don't worry. After all, the nobility will become nothing more than a facade as time goes by, and I don't think it was my place to begin with."
Jace sat cross-legged on the wooden chair opposite him. His fingers tapped the backrest as if calculating something. His eyes, a color quite different from the lieutenant colonel's, scanned the map on the wall.
"I know. You're just a landowner who enjoys preferential treatment from the government. And inheriting titles and property, then living off rent and fees, isn't your thing. I'm a businessman at heart, so having the funds is a plus."
Jace's lips curved into a loose smile. He stopped tapping the back of his chair, his voice cracking. He uncrossed his legs and leaned closer to the lieutenant colonel, who was sitting opposite him, and chuckled.
"That woman. I think she's a Medea mixed-blood. That's not the kind of hair color you see among Belfords."
Black hair is a unique characteristic of the Medeans. The more foreign blood they had in their ancestors, the darker their hair became. It was rare for them to be born with blonde or any other color.
Their mother, who died in childhood, was a black-haired Medea.
“You haven’t been out in a while, have you? It’s like you’ve been hiding.”
The lieutenant colonel, who had been quietly listening to Jace, twitched his eyebrows slightly. Jace's face, usually cool and stern, shifted into a playful expression, as if he were observing something interesting in his younger brother's agitation.
He adjusted his glasses and laughed with a restrained laugh.
“She's the woman our mother only spoke of to us. Isn’t that right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the Princess you stole.”
I groaned and was carried to my room by the maids. Why on earth was it the third floor?
With every step I took, my whole body screamed for help. I finally made it to my room and collapsed on the bed, unable to move.
My palms felt clammy and cold. Despite the blanket, I felt a chill run down my spine, and my lips trembled. When I opened my eyes, the ivory ceiling rippled and trembled.
I gasped for breath, suffering from dizziness and nausea, akin to motion sickness. If Noah had been there, he would have been fussing, saying ominous things like, "Princess, don't leave me behind and die."
“Miss, the doctor has arrived.”
The maid came in and announced that the doctor had arrived. An older man wearing glasses, he examined me, prescribed some medicine, and gave me some precautions.
“...There’s no way you’d be the only one getting food poisoning.”
The doctor tilted his head in puzzlement and muttered to himself. "If the soup they made that day had gone bad, everyone in the mansion would have been sick." Celine, sitting at the edge of the bed, repeatedly wiped the sweat from her forehead and asked the doctor.
“Doctor, will she feel better tomorrow?”
“She should take a week off and rest without overdoing it.”
The doctor left, and Celine put down the wet towel she was holding. Her green eyes, filled with concern, surveyed my condition.
“You can’t see the lieutenant colonel because you're sick. I’ll tell him.”
“I already told the maid to pass it on.”
"What?"
Celine, who was pulling her platinum hair back like sunlight, asked with a startled expression.
“I said I was sick. He asked me to tell him even the smallest things.”
“Yeah, I see. Take a rest now.”
As she lowered her long eyelashes, a shadow of worry fell over her once-pale face. One might question the fact that I, a person newly rescued from an enemy country and subject to special treatment, was the only one to contract food poisoning.
If they were to investigate with suspicion of poisoning intentions on the part of Frogen, the fact that the maid had been playing a prank and the treatment I had received would all be revealed.
The lieutenant colonel visits the mansion once a week under the pretext of checking on my condition. Celine has always been anxious that he will find out about the treatment I've received and the fact that she's ignored it.
“Sister, don’t you think it’s strange that I’m the only one with food poisoning?”
Celine, who was about to leave the room at my words, who carried a heavy meaning, quietly turned to look at me. I pulled my dry lips aside, giving her a smile that was as innocent as it was innocent.
“So what should we do now?”
I asked her, even though I already knew the answer. She concealed her anger perfectly and gave me the answer with a calm look in her eyes.
“Yeah. Who brought you lunch?”
The Admiral and Celine have no choice but to watch my every move. Even when the maid brought me a dress with an ironed hole, I wore it to meet Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal. Celine tried to make excuses and got the situation covered up, but if this continues, things will get awkward.
Before leaving Frogen and coming to the Admiral's mansion, I had one request for the Lieutenant Colonel.
“Please come see me once a week.”
“Of course I will, but could you tell me why?”
The lieutenant colonel looked down at me and asked in a gentle tone. I kept my mouth shut for a moment, then looked up at him with a sharp gaze and spoke confidently.
You brought me here, knowing our relationship. You knew how I would be treated here. I'll admit you risked your life to rescue me, but was it truly for my own good?
"It's a matter of responsibility. Ambiguous favors can make the other person even more unhappy."
Kindness and good deeds that are not performed with empathy may be applauded by everyone on the surface, but they often do not help the person involved much.
It's like building a ton of eco-friendly playgrounds for children who are starving and too weak to play in a parched drought where not a single blade of grass grows. This is nothing more than self-indulgent arrogance and a pretext for gaining social acclaim.
I smiled bitterly at him and stroked the necklace around my neck. I won't be a victim of your love games.
In most cases like this, the protagonist, often portrayed as a supporting character, often takes on the role of a villain. The villain is someone who highlights the protagonist's abilities and goodness, and even when the protagonist acts in a way that feels wrong, they are justified and justified.
Here, Noah is the villain. The protagonists will commit necessary evils against the villain to demonstrate their own sense of justice.
As if you had come to rescue me.
I, too, plan to take on the role of a villain, sabotaging and preventing the Colonel and Celine from connecting. I'll exploit Celine's duplicity and hypocrisy, like the dark side of the moon, and the abuse I endured from this family as my weaknesses.
It's a good intention to prevent a split personality from forming with a woman whose feelings, fate, and everything else are part of the plan, so this is also a good deed and justice. As I pondered the aftermath of the plan, I lowered my eyes to banish the fleeting afterimages that suddenly surfaced.
To survive hell, I must become a demon. When hell disappears, will all that's left be me, a demon?
What should I do then?
***
"Jeffrey, you've done a remarkable job. You've truly put noblesse oblige into practice."
A black-haired man dressed in a neat suit smiled gently at Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal. It was Jace Groenendaal, the first and heir of the Groenendaal family.
He was a businessman with outstanding acumen, one of the financial powers that accumulated capital by investing in bills of exchange, stocks, and bonds.
He had an intellectual appearance that seemed far removed from war, and he had an image that was both similar to that of his younger brother, the lieutenant colonel, and yet completely opposite.
His intellectual appearance, wearing thin silver-rimmed glasses, his smooth, flawless face, and his long, slender fingers that had grown without any hardships, made him worthy of being called 'Young Master.'
The lieutenant colonel, who sat motionless at his desk in the study, filled with military books, looked up at his brother. The soldier's sharp eyes met the sharp, calculating eyes of a businessman.
Their gazes were different yet similar.
“What is going on here?”
Jace had suddenly arrived at the lieutenant colonel's mansion. He was sullen and unwelcome, even to the visit of his brother, a family member.
“I came to congratulate you, since you are being hailed as a hero of Belford.”
"I'll say it again, I have no interest in the succession, so I hope you don't worry. After all, the nobility will become nothing more than a facade as time goes by, and I don't think it was my place to begin with."
Jace sat cross-legged on the wooden chair opposite him. His fingers tapped the backrest as if calculating something. His eyes, a color quite different from the lieutenant colonel's, scanned the map on the wall.
"I know. You're just a landowner who enjoys preferential treatment from the government. And inheriting titles and property, then living off rent and fees, isn't your thing. I'm a businessman at heart, so having the funds is a plus."
Jace's lips curved into a loose smile. He stopped tapping the back of his chair, his voice cracking. He uncrossed his legs and leaned closer to the lieutenant colonel, who was sitting opposite him, and chuckled.
"That woman. I think she's a Medea mixed-blood. That's not the kind of hair color you see among Belfords."
Black hair is a unique characteristic of the Medeans. The more foreign blood they had in their ancestors, the darker their hair became. It was rare for them to be born with blonde or any other color.
Their mother, who died in childhood, was a black-haired Medea.
“You haven’t been out in a while, have you? It’s like you’ve been hiding.”
The lieutenant colonel, who had been quietly listening to Jace, twitched his eyebrows slightly. Jace's face, usually cool and stern, shifted into a playful expression, as if he were observing something interesting in his younger brother's agitation.
He adjusted his glasses and laughed with a restrained laugh.
“She's the woman our mother only spoke of to us. Isn’t that right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the Princess you stole.”
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