TBMGW 1

Episode 1

Today, I…

Am finally free!

“Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!”

As I hopped around shouting, the maid Emily passing by gave me a strange look.

“Is she crazy? Does she not know where she’s being sold off to?”

“My thoughts exactly. In the Brighton Ducal House, they either throw little girls to monsters as feed or use them as lab specimens until they die, don’t they?”

Wrong, you idiots. They don’t kill them. They just squeeze every ounce of labor out of them until they’re on the brink of death.

But who cares? Compared to rotting away in this household for life, it’s the best workplace I could ask for.

Hard labor? I can handle it. After all, that’s all I’ve been doing until I turned twelve here.

They shoved a broom and rag into the hands of a seven-year-old girl, and called it work.

Meals? Just a shriveled piece of bread, and even that grudgingly given!

The funniest part? I wasn’t even a servant here.

I was the illegitimate child of this Count’s family.

Well, to be exact—I possessed the illegitimate child. An extra so irrelevant her name never even showed up in the fantasy novel I used to read.

That much I could accept. I’d already had my fill of denial when I was much younger.

But still!

I never thought this Count’s family would treat their illegitimate child this cruelly!

If I cleaned a little too slowly, they’d raise their hands against me. If I walked too loudly, they’d slap me.

They had every cliché of third-rate villains.

‘Rather than stay here as the product of child abuse, I’ll go be a grunt for the villainous ducal house instead.’

Sure, the Brighton Ducal House might be the shadowy family that raised the final boss of the novel, but at least they didn’t hit their underlings.

They were cold and strict, sure—but they fed them properly.

I guess the author couldn’t resist the Korean instinct to make even villains provide three meals a day.

Whatever the reason—it worked out for me.

Whether my so-called father wanted to or not, the fact remains: he sold me off to the villainous house.

Technically, he wrote a letter of introduction to send me there as a servant through official channels. But what’s the difference from selling me off?

From afar, I saw the Count’s eldest son smiling brightly, certain that I’d die the moment I stepped foot in that household.

Die? No way. I’ll claw and scratch to survive and eat hearty stews with bread dunked in them!

“You lot can keep eating dried-up scraps of bread. I’ll be warming my belly with soup and rice!”

“What’s soup and rice? What is she even talking about?”

“Leave her alone, Emily. She’s gone crazy from the shock of being sent to the Brighton Ducal House. Let’s pity her.”

The head maid looked at me with an exaggeratedly sympathetic face.

“Yesterday was the last night you’d ever sleep in a proper bed. How pitiful.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. But fine—I understood why they thought that way.

“Send all the eyesores to the Brighton Ducal House.”

Do you know why that saying exists?

“Because the Duchess is a mad scientist.”

“They say once you enter the Ducal House as a worker, you disappear without a trace.”

“The Duchess definitely uses them as test subjects before discarding them.”

That’s why.

So, in short, this insane Count’s family was sending me off to my death.

Normally, anyone in my position would collapse in tears or try to escape.

But me?

“Congratulations, ‘sister.’ The Ducal mansion is filled with rare furniture you’ll never see again in your life. At least you’ll get to see wonders before you die.”

Instead, I smiled brightly at my half-brother who came to provoke me.

“Yup, they say there’s even a sacred statue carved from a thousand-year-old guardian tree. That’s what I’m most excited to see.”

“……”

My half-brother, James—the Count’s eldest son—suddenly wore a very odd expression.

“Ah yes, I heard the Duchess is always holed up in her laboratory, never showing her face. They say she bathes in the blood of young girls. Isn’t that terrifying?”

“Thanks for worrying, but I’ve prepared myself to serve the Duke and Duchess properly. I’ll manage just fine.”

My luggage? Nothing more than worn-out clothes, a ragged apron, and shoes that were one step away from falling apart.

Carrying my shabby bag, I smiled again at the flustered James.

“The Ducal House is so much more dignified than this place. It’ll definitely be a wonderful workplace!”

“So you’re saying we have no dignity?!”

“James, you’ve got breadcrumbs stuck to your collar. You’re a long way off from being a ‘dignified noble.’”

“Wha—no—that’s…!!”

“I believe a person’s worth comes from their actions, not their title. I hope you’ll keep that in mind, James.”

“You should call me Young Master James!!”

“I’m not a servant here anymore. Goodbye.”

Ignoring James, who looked about ready to throw a punch, I climbed into the carriage.

Just before the door shut, I looked one last time at the Count standing at the gates.

My biological father. But always cold, always staring down at me with eyes utterly devoid of affection.

“If it were up to me, I’d discipline that arrogant attitude of yours before sending you off…”

This was the farewell he chose to give his daughter.

‘You’re consistent, I’ll give you that. Makes things easier on me.’

As I pouted in secret, his icy voice cut through the air.

“Seeing that hateful face of yours for the last time is the only mercy you’ll get.”

So basically: Get lost.
Loud and clear.

“Yes, thank you so mu—oh.”

“……?”

“Oh right, I have nothing to thank you for. You never fed me or raised me. I suppose I should just thank you for coexisting with me.”

For the first time, a crack appeared in his frosty face. He was angry, clearly. I quickly shut the carriage door and shouted—

“Please depart!”

The Count’s furious roars echoed even through the carriage windows. But what of it?

He could shout all he wanted.

I was free!

“Welcome to the Brighton Ducal House. From this moment, you will be serving the Duke and Duchess. Before you begin, I’ll go over the rules and precautions, so please pay close attention…”

The carriage ride had taken half a month.

After sleeping in stables for two weeks straight, I was sure I reeked of hay.

I worried someone would wrinkle their nose at the smell—only to see everyone around me sniffling and sobbing.

The housekeeper, her hair tied neatly back, recited the instructions with an icy, mechanical tone that matched her stern face.

And against her, the other girls—my age, pale-faced, and downcast—stood out even more.

Ah. I get it. They must have been “sold off” here too, just like me.

“Let’s confirm the headcount. Miss Magee?”

“…Here.”

“Miss Swire?”

“…Yes.”

You could practically read their thoughts written across their faces. I’m going to die. The Duchess is going to use me as a test subject. That sort of thing.

I sighed lightly and shrugged.

No matter how backward the human rights were in this world, the Ducal House wouldn’t openly do something so outrageous.

And more importantly—this place paid well. And they served proper meals.

Yes, real food! The novel even described them getting regular holidays!

But at this moment, I was the only one who knew the truth, because I’d read the novel.

The housekeeper, used to this gloomy atmosphere, kept her somber face as she called the last name on the list.

“Miss Cece?”

“Yes!”

My loud and cheerful reply startled everyone.

Just before stepping foot into the Ducal House, I was not just calm—but actually excited. To them, I must have seemed bizarre.

Adjusting her round glasses, the housekeeper blinked in mild surprise before cautiously asking—

“You’re the Cece from the Grington Count’s family, correct?”