“I never said anything like that, but I think you misheard, Miss Chelsea.”
The woman next to her tried to make an excuse in a hurry, but Barbara continued to stare at the woman across from her.
"Miss Pendner, Miss Theodric. Did I mishear you? Countess Rotsilt, did you hear me?"
I stood there, like a stone statue, staring at the three women. I didn't care, and I didn't want to bother with them, but I was curious about what they meant.
"Oh, a mongrel has arrived. It seems like they're just a bunch of people with no common ground."
I imitated it plausibly, recited it exactly as I had heard it, and then asked them.
“Who is the mongrel here?”
“It’s nothing, Countess.”
The woman called Ms. Pendner denied it, her face hurriedly turning away. I asked with a disapproving look.
“Isn't this our first meeting? I don't know you, but you seem to know me well.”
“I apologize for my rudeness. Madam is so famous...”
“Me?”
Meanwhile, Olivia, who had entered with a light step, smiled meaningfully. She looked no different from a hyena sniffing out an opportunity to bite. They were similar in that they were searching for rotten meat.
“Ah, Countess Rotsilt. It’s been a while.”
“We promised not to talk, didn’t we? Don’t talk to me.”
Even though we had a non-aggression pact, she was the first to invade, so something seemed to be up. Ignoring her was the answer, so I turned away from her, who was desperate to speak, and grabbed Barbara's hand.
"Miss Chelsea, I have a question for you about joining the St. Louis Club. Let's go somewhere quiet and have a private conversation."
“Oh my, really? I’m so happy!”
A smile appeared on Barbara's face, but soon she straightened up again at the sarcastic remark she heard.
"As expected, it seems there's no use hiding your background. Even if you try to act arrogant, it all shows on the outside."
Olivia snickered at me. Barbara's face grew bright red. It wasn't from embarrassment or shame, but from visibly angry anger.
“Miss Daywood, what kind of background does a family that borrows money from all over the place come from?”
“What did you say?”
"The Daywood family is on the verge of bankruptcy. I heard the Count lost a fortune at a gambling den. I'm sure he's deeply hurt."
Olivia's face contorted, as if she had uncovered a secret she didn't want anyone to know. Her anger was palpable, and she gritted her teeth and glared at Barbara.
“How dare you, a daughter of a humble family...”
"How dare you? Do you have nothing to boast about but being the daughter of a Count?"
“You, you will pay dearly for insulting the Daywood family.”
"What can you do? Did I break the law? Don't be so arrogant, using the formality of a title as a symbol. You're only making things more difficult for you, so I'm just offering my courtesy."
Barbara quickly snapped back, her voice clear and clear. Olivia flinched and clenched her teeth. Barbara, however, remained confident, her nose held high.
"Count Daywood came to that humble family to borrow a large sum of money. And interest-free, at that. So you're attending my meeting, aren't you?"
It clearly started with my swearing, so I don't understand why Barbara got so angry and started fighting. I stood there, feeling liberated, caught in the middle of their sharply clashing conversation.
“Hey, let’s find out what background and mongrel are.”
Olivia responded to my question with a sarcastic and smug attitude.
“I wanted to ask if the rumor that Countess Rotsilt was the illegitimate child of a promiscuous man and woman was true.”
That statement is a death sentence. It's not like the rumored woman with the dirty word would call herself Queen. I crossed my arms and gestured for her to continue. Olivia continued, her voice arrogant.
“There is a rumor that the second daughter of a certain family secretly had a child with a foreign prime minister, a Duke, and had an affair with a married officer from that country, and that the child she bore was Madam.”
What the hell is that trashy soap opera? It seems they think of Belfort's Duchess of Groenendaal as my mother. The story is that she was cheating on someone and gave birth to me, her illegitimate child.
The woman next to her tried to make an excuse in a hurry, but Barbara continued to stare at the woman across from her.
"Miss Pendner, Miss Theodric. Did I mishear you? Countess Rotsilt, did you hear me?"
I stood there, like a stone statue, staring at the three women. I didn't care, and I didn't want to bother with them, but I was curious about what they meant.
"Oh, a mongrel has arrived. It seems like they're just a bunch of people with no common ground."
I imitated it plausibly, recited it exactly as I had heard it, and then asked them.
“Who is the mongrel here?”
“It’s nothing, Countess.”
The woman called Ms. Pendner denied it, her face hurriedly turning away. I asked with a disapproving look.
“Isn't this our first meeting? I don't know you, but you seem to know me well.”
“I apologize for my rudeness. Madam is so famous...”
“Me?”
Meanwhile, Olivia, who had entered with a light step, smiled meaningfully. She looked no different from a hyena sniffing out an opportunity to bite. They were similar in that they were searching for rotten meat.
“Ah, Countess Rotsilt. It’s been a while.”
“We promised not to talk, didn’t we? Don’t talk to me.”
Even though we had a non-aggression pact, she was the first to invade, so something seemed to be up. Ignoring her was the answer, so I turned away from her, who was desperate to speak, and grabbed Barbara's hand.
"Miss Chelsea, I have a question for you about joining the St. Louis Club. Let's go somewhere quiet and have a private conversation."
“Oh my, really? I’m so happy!”
A smile appeared on Barbara's face, but soon she straightened up again at the sarcastic remark she heard.
"As expected, it seems there's no use hiding your background. Even if you try to act arrogant, it all shows on the outside."
Olivia snickered at me. Barbara's face grew bright red. It wasn't from embarrassment or shame, but from visibly angry anger.
“Miss Daywood, what kind of background does a family that borrows money from all over the place come from?”
“What did you say?”
"The Daywood family is on the verge of bankruptcy. I heard the Count lost a fortune at a gambling den. I'm sure he's deeply hurt."
Olivia's face contorted, as if she had uncovered a secret she didn't want anyone to know. Her anger was palpable, and she gritted her teeth and glared at Barbara.
“How dare you, a daughter of a humble family...”
"How dare you? Do you have nothing to boast about but being the daughter of a Count?"
“You, you will pay dearly for insulting the Daywood family.”
"What can you do? Did I break the law? Don't be so arrogant, using the formality of a title as a symbol. You're only making things more difficult for you, so I'm just offering my courtesy."
Barbara quickly snapped back, her voice clear and clear. Olivia flinched and clenched her teeth. Barbara, however, remained confident, her nose held high.
"Count Daywood came to that humble family to borrow a large sum of money. And interest-free, at that. So you're attending my meeting, aren't you?"
It clearly started with my swearing, so I don't understand why Barbara got so angry and started fighting. I stood there, feeling liberated, caught in the middle of their sharply clashing conversation.
“Hey, let’s find out what background and mongrel are.”
Olivia responded to my question with a sarcastic and smug attitude.
“I wanted to ask if the rumor that Countess Rotsilt was the illegitimate child of a promiscuous man and woman was true.”
That statement is a death sentence. It's not like the rumored woman with the dirty word would call herself Queen. I crossed my arms and gestured for her to continue. Olivia continued, her voice arrogant.
“There is a rumor that the second daughter of a certain family secretly had a child with a foreign prime minister, a Duke, and had an affair with a married officer from that country, and that the child she bore was Madam.”
What the hell is that trashy soap opera? It seems they think of Belfort's Duchess of Groenendaal as my mother. The story is that she was cheating on someone and gave birth to me, her illegitimate child.
“Really? I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know.”
She covered her mouth and giggled. Wait, if that rumor is true, then maybe it won't be revealed that I'm the Queen's biological daughter? I don't really care about rumors and things that dig up my personal life, so I guess that'll be okay.
Of course, the Duchess, the lieutenant colonel's biological mother, will be branded a woman with a shabby private life, but she was guilty of throwing me into a shabby environment in the past. That's why I lived a somewhat shabby life, so that's not my concern. Barbara, however, was looking at me with tearful eyes. Why?
“Madam, I know it must have been difficult for you... I will help you.”
“No, Barbara? It’s not like that.”
"Who among the upper class would dare to have an extramarital affair? Don't worry too much about it. The people who question bloodlines and legitimacy are the ones who are the problem."
I felt embarrassed seeing Barbara looking upset.
“However, even if they are the eldest sons of the illegitimate children, they never appear in such a place. They know shame."
Olivia spoke with a fierce expression. A faint, sinister laugh could be heard from afar. Erita, who had been observing this, approached and pointed at me as if commanding an attack.
"Because the secret of your humble origins has been revealed, the Harrisons can't even attend the anniversary celebration. How shameless. Because of you, your mother has become a disgrace to the family."
Without Noah, my sturdy barrier of intimidation, she seems uninhibited. The fake Princess smiles contentedly, intoxicated by her superiority. The women who followed Erita join in, snickering in unison.
Already thoroughly accustomed to such things, I instead smiled with a benevolent, sage-like smile. My enemies aren't those kinds of people. They're the revelation of my identity, the war that lies ahead, and the unforeseen circumstances that threaten my peaceful daily life.
“Is that so? I didn’t know.”
I answered indifferently.
Wasn't it a shameful situation for her to lose the person she loved to such a woman? It wasn't like she'd been taken away in the first place. Perhaps it was an unexpected reaction, but Erita bit her lip tightly.
“You didn’t know? You were treated like shit there, then kicked out, and now you’re here, treated like shit.”
“Yes, I am not worthy to stand before your noble Princess, so I will be going now.”
"And yet, you're marrying a high-ranking noble, a Duke. It seems you've taken after your mother and have a knack for seducing men. If you know your shame, shouldn't you divorce and let him go?"
Seriously, I try to be lenient, but she keeps crossing the line. I try to remain calm.
"This is a matter between us, so I'll handle it. If you still harbor feelings for my husband, I hope you'll meet with him separately and resolve the matter, not with me. I didn't steal your man, nor did I do anything that could warrant your resentment. It's just that you had an 'unrequited love'..."
“Shut up!”
When I insisted on emphasizing the word "unrequited love," Erita's face turned bright red, and she abruptly cut me off. "Why are you picking on me? I don't understand why you're rushing in and attacking me as if I'd dumped you."
She shouted out a series of insults, trying to provoke my shame, then turned away, looking as if she'd won yet lost. A line of women, including Olivia, followed behind her.
This job offers two benefits: the chance of my royal secret being revealed is significantly reduced, and I can weed out useless, annoying people. The women who had been sending invitations and acting pretentious towards me, who had been attracting the Queen's attention, had a distinct change in their gazes. Barbara, who had been standing back, took my hand.
"Madam, when you're feeling down, you need something sweet. My family, born commoners and newly crowned Barons, is a rising nobility, so we've always been secretly looked down upon. Of course, now that my father's social influence is so strong, I can't openly ignore him."
Barbara's gray eyes shone with a strong intensity as she continued speaking, placing chocolates in my hands. I stood quietly, listening, and caught a glimpse of her convictions. "I quite like the way you speaks hyiur mind," Barbara added, munching on the remaining chocolate she had given me.
"I hate discriminating against people based on their origins and status. How can someone of high social standing, yet lacking in character, discuss culture and dignity?"
"Miss Barbara, let's talk about joining the club. I'll try to persuade my husband to join too."
"Of course you're welcome. I'll tell my father and have him waive the annual fee."
Barbara laughed heartily. It seemed she'd gained something extra.
***
Erita headed to the private room with a frown on her face. It was a place where high-ranking nobles held private conversations. The Marchioness of Wales, who was sitting on a luxurious sofa with elaborate embroidery, rose to greet her.
"That kid is still shameless. She even looks at me with pity, like she's looking at a child."
Erita, clutching her skirt and sitting next to the Marchioness, nervously picked up her wine glass. The Marchioness replied in a gentle tone.
“Yes, from what I’ve observed, she tends to avoid direct conflict and ignore any and all comments that are related to her.”
"That's what I thought. Is she the type of person who is more agitated by the hurt of those around her than by herself?"
“Perhaps so. But we cannot touch Count Rotsilt or the Duke of Hessen.”
Erita slowly swirled her wine glass. The red wine swayed in the chandelier light. She had lost sight of her true purpose, contemplating only how to seize and shake Diana. It was a kind of competitive spirit.
“She doesn’t really have anyone close to her other than them. She’s a strange woman.”
"She rarely goes out into social circles. She deliberately closes her heart and avoids forming relationships. She's afraid of losing and doesn't want to be hurt in relationships. Only the few people she opens her heart to feel altruistic toward do she feel emotionally moved by their misfortune."
“Really, how can you understand people so well, Madam?”
Queen Grace was like that. She seemed to be on the side of distrusting people.
The Marchioness covered her mouth and smiled elegantly, thinking to herself.
“She may seem cool and strong on the outside, but she is a person who can easily crumble at the misfortune of one person she cherishes.”
"In a situation like this, wouldn't she have a friend? The more you help someone in difficult situations, the more valuable they feel. For me, that's the Marchioness."
"Yes, that's right. You just need to keep pushing her into conflict situations. Then, you might be able to witness Count Rotsilt's true nature. I, too, will become one of her precious people."
At the Marchioness's words, Erita put down her empty glass and clapped her hands. Her spirits seemed to be at their peak, fueled by the alcohol.
"Oh, you're saying you're going to betray her? That would be hilarious. I really want to see her break down in tears. I really don't like that arrogant attitude of a bastard born to a mongrel."
“Princess, don’t you want to know what she thinks of Ayla?”
The Marchioness's amber eyes, as she mentioned Ayla, grew cold. They were a warm yellow, but they were akin to the eyes of a snake. Erita, with her snake-like tongue, chuckled.
"It seems the lady wants to get rid of her quickly. That woman seems to have hope. She thinks she can become Frogen's illegitimate son's lover just because she received a diamond necklace. She doesn't even realize it's a small price to pay."
Erita was in high spirits. She raised her voice as if she were recounting the experience of a truly entertaining farce.
“There’s nothing more amusing than seeing hope turn to despair.”
***
Her shabby room, with its dark walls on all sides, resembled a prison cell, but sometimes a small window would let in warm light for Ayla.
She saw it as a ray of hope. Lying in bed, having endured the arduous daily grind, Ayla saw a sliver of moonlight streaming down like a stream and reached out as if to catch it.
Sometimes, even the worn table, the moldy furniture, and the worn curtains looked beautiful. At night, the lone window looked like silk embroidered with stars. Tears flowed from Ayla's eyes, soaking her ears and pillowcase as she imagined the elegant starlight dress she'd made from it.
“What should I do?”
It's been almost two months since she carried a new life inside her tiny body.
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