NRAL | Chapter 05

Chapter 05 

No More Pretending To Be Nice

“Eleanor Astria has everything.”

That’s what the people of Astria’s territories and the nobles of Cardiff, the capital of the Juvenile Empire, always said.

The empire’s only duchess, heir to House Alcestis, the future moon of the empire… Words used to describe her were always lofty and beautiful.

Naturally, everyone believed her future would be brighter than anyone else’s.

Surely, Eleanor Astria must be the happiest person alive.

But none of them knew.

They didn’t know that Eleanor had lived a life far from happiness for as long as she could remember. Nor did they realize that all those envied titles and descriptions only dragged her deeper into despair.

Her misery began ten years ago, on the day she left the orphanage.

The Marylebone Orphanage was a facility run by the Triton Church. Or at least, that was the claim.

In reality, it was poorly managed with no proper structure, and it was a place where the poor and unfortunate died every day. A refuge for the poorest and unluckiest people in the empire.

Yet twelve-year-old Eleanor, who had spent most of her short life there, didn’t think she was unhappy. Despite constantly going hungry and enduring the cold in a small, dimly lit room, she was okay—because of Luke.

Luke was a woman twelve years older than Eleanor. She followed Triton’s teachings more faithfully than anyone Eleanor had ever known and often spoke of a younger sibling, just a year younger than Eleanor, back in her hometown.

Luke had found Eleanor after she suffered an accident that left her with no memory and took her in, caring for her as though she were her own little sister.

“God led me to you,” Luke would always say, teaching Eleanor the ways of the Triton Church.

Be kind to the weak. Forgive the wicked. Do not follow selfish desires. Be grateful for what you have…

A lot of it didn’t make sense to young Eleanor, but she memorized it all anyway. She repeated the teachings daily until they became a part of her.

Religion gave her the strength to endure hardship. Even when her food was stolen after hours of waiting in line or when she wasn’t paid properly despite a week of hard work, Eleanor was simply thankful to have survived another day.

It was all thanks to Luke. If not for her, Eleanor wouldn’t have made it through such harsh conditions alive. She wouldn’t have been able to smile and carry on despite the crushing poverty.

And so, the seven years Eleanor spent at the orphanage were cold and hungry but never lonely.

Everything changed when the butler of the Astria duchy found her.

“Wait, hold on! I need to find Luke…!”

“If you’ll head to the mansion first, we’ll continue searching. Let’s go now.”

Luke vanished without a trace, and Eleanor was taken to the duchy without even getting the chance to properly thank her savior.

“My goodness, Eleanor! My daughter!”

The Duke of Astria, overjoyed to reunite with his long-lost daughter, embraced her tightly.

For the first time, Eleanor felt a father’s arms—warm and comforting. It made her foolishly hopeful.

She dared to believe that her life would only get better from here. That she would enjoy her father’s love, never go hungry again, and even find a way to repay Luke’s kindness.

It took less than a month for her to realize she was wrong.

“Be useful.”

That was the phrase young Eleanor heard more than anything else.

The Duke, who had once hugged her and said he was glad she was alive, turned cold within days, demanding she prove her worth.

Terrified, Eleanor did her best to comply. She worked hard to become a “useful person,” as he wanted.

She wanted to feel his warm embrace again. She wanted to avoid being thrown out of the mansion.

Eleanor was bright and learned quickly. But no matter how fast she picked things up, a child raised in an orphanage couldn’t master the graces of nobility overnight.

The fact that his daughter fell behind other aristocratic kids greatly infuriated the Duke.

“Lift your skirt.”

At first, she thought he was joking.

She couldn’t have imagined that the Duke, the man who had searched for her so long, would raise a whip over her, especially for getting two questions wrong on a test given by her tutor.

She stood there, dumbfounded, and as a result, the servants grabbed her arms and legs, holding her still while she was beaten with a birch rod.

She couldn’t even scream, as the servants had covered her mouth after the Duke told them it was too noisy.

From that day on, beatings became a daily routine. Every small mistake would result in severe punishment. Eleanor’s legs were constantly covered in bruises, and she longed for Luke, who was unreachable.

‘I just need to do well, and everything will get better.’

Eleanor believed it was all her fault. In fact, her father would say similar things every time he hit her, telling her it was because she wasn’t good enough.

So she worked harder. She studied late into the night, sacrificing sleep.

A year later, Eleanor was praised as being better than any other child her age. She became skilled in noble manners and was fluent in history and foreign languages. Many nobles praised her talents.

Yet, for some reason, her legs were still covered with red marks.

“She’s a girl, and she doesn’t finish her food.”

“She didn’t understand the value of food and wasted expensive meat.”

“Her appearance as a noblewoman is too shabby.”

“Her new dress became too tight in just two months.”

“Just because she did well in her studies, she’s making her younger brother feel inferior.”

“She hasn’t educated her brother properly.”

There were countless reasons for her to be scolded, and they were inconsistent, making it impossible to satisfy.

It was unbearably painful and lonely. But at that time, Eleanor still didn’t think she was truly unhappy. Triton’s teachings had told her this was just another storm that would pass.

She wouldn’t realize she was in hell until later, on a summer morning when she was thirteen.

One Friday morning, she woke up early and arrived at the dining hall well before breakfast time. Checking that no one was there, she took out a small piece from her pocket.

It was a tiny, well-worn statue of the goddess Triton—a gift from Luke just days before they were separated. The carving was crude, and the material was poor, making it an unusual gift. But it was likely the best Luke could manage.

Eleanor placed the statue on the table and knelt before it. In her rush that morning, she’d forgotten to pray, and now she intended to make up for it here.

Though she wanted to pray in a more sacred and appropriate place, she found it strange that the estate didn’t seem to have a proper prayer room. It was odd, especially considering her maternal family, the Marquisate of Alcestis, had long supported the papacy.

Perhaps she should have noticed something was off even then. But at that time, Eleanor simply didn’t have enough information to understand.

“Triton, please help me shake off this anguish. Help me become smarter and stronger, so that when I meet Luke again, she’ll be proud of me…”

Eleanor prayed with all her heart, but then she heard a commotion behind her.

“Are you sure it’s okay to visit this early? Haha.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re welcome anytime. The chef has even prepared something special…”

Eleanor quickly finished her prayer and turned around.

She saw unfamiliar men looking surprised to see her, and her father glaring at her with a look so cold and furious it seemed he might kill her on the spot.

At that time, she didn’t realize it, but those unfamiliar men were supporters of the Solarem faith, a rising power known as the Spires, who supported the reformed church of Solarem.

Looking back now, it would have been embarrassing and infuriating for her father, the Duke, to have invited them into his home, only to find his daughter praying in front of a statue of Triton.

But even so, nothing justifies what happened next.

“How dare you do that in my house!”

Once the Spires left with awkward smiles, the enraged Duke of Astria unleashed his full fury.

Eleanor, not understanding what she had done wrong, was dragged away by him. Judging by his mood, she figured she’d get at least twenty lashes this time.

She was wrong.

It wasn’t that she avoided the beating—just as she expected, she received twenty lashes from a sharp birch switch.

The problem was that the punishment didn’t end there.

Following the Duke’s orders, the servants grabbed Eleanor, who was clutching her bleeding legs, and dragged her off without even letting her treat her wounds.

They dragged her into a basement, a place where no light reached. There, they forced her to sit on the cold floor, and the servants placed hard bread and lukewarm water beside her.

Suddenly, something was thrown on the floor in front of her, sliding toward her.

It was the statue of Triton she had prayed in front of earlier.

“Eleanor,” her father said coldly, “from this moment on, you will not take a single step out of this room. You will not meet or speak with anyone. Take care of all your meals and needs here. Surely, the conditions at the orphanage were worse than this. You should be able to endure it.”

“W-Wait, Father! I was wrong! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“If you can’t stand it, then pray to your cursed god. Beg for help! Beg to be freed from here!”

“Father! Please, Father!”

She pleaded desperately, but the Duke left without a glance back.

Eleanor was left alone in the pitch-black, cramped room. Her only companions were the tiny statue and the skittering insects that made faint rustling sounds somewhere nearby.

How much time passed? Three days? Four? A week?

Eleanor tried to guess the time by the sweltering summer heat, but after the first two days, her mind stopped working properly. She couldn’t tell what hour or day it was, let alone how long she’d be trapped in that prison.

Her leg wounds had become infected, and her heart had grown sick too. The bread and water could ease her hunger, but they did nothing to soothe her loneliness.

She screamed and begged forgiveness. She pounded on the unyielding door until her fists bled.

No one came.

With every passing moment, Eleanor felt herself slipping further into madness.

In the dark, she stared at the small statue. With her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the gentle face of the goddess faintly emerged.

Be kind to the weak. Forgive the wicked…

The words she used to mumble out of habit grew fainter and eventually stopped altogether.

The insects crawled up her legs, their long antennae brushing against her infected wounds. But Eleanor didn’t move. She simply leaned against the foul-smelling walls, lying there like a corpse.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened.

Still half out of her mind, she was washed by the maids, dressed, and forced to drink some kind of thin soup.

The maids dressed her like a doll and dragged her off somewhere.

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in her father’s study.

Even now, years later, Eleanor remembers the scene vividly.

Her father stood under the pouring summer sunlight, looking down at her. His beautiful blonde hair sparkled in the light, and his noble attire was as splendid as ever.

“Well? Did your precious god save you?” He sneered, gripping her frail shoulder tightly.

“I suppose not. Remember this, Eleanor. Only I decide whether you live or die. Only I, your father, have the power to make or destroy you. So never again kneel to some god in my presence.”

This was the first time.

It was the first time that made Eleanor hate Astria.

***

Eleanor had been preparing to leave Astria for a long time.

But actually escaping was no simple task. Too many watchful eyes surrounded her. Even if she managed to flee, her father would never let her go. She’d be dragged back within days, making any escape attempt meaningless.

That’s why the situation Nora had created was a gift from the heavens.

At first, when Nora claimed to be the real Eleanor, Eleanor was just confused. Rather than feeling betrayed, she was more astonished at the reckless challenge.

But when she saw Arlo supporting Nora, Eleanor saw a possibility.

She could hand over her life—all her misery—to Nora and finally leave Astria behind.

Her heart raced, and she couldn’t help but smile in anticipation. She wanted to declare Nora’s claims true and leave that very moment.

But she held back.

It wasn’t because of the situation. It was because it was Nora.

Nora reminded Eleanor of Luke. Though their personalities were entirely different, Nora’s round eyes, small nose, and short face were strikingly similar.

Just as Luke had saved her, Eleanor wanted to do the same for Nora. She wanted to repay her debt to Luke, even if it was in this way.

So she resolved to endure.

Even if Nora had betrayed her, she hadn’t done anything so terrible as to deserve all of Eleanor’s suffering.

But when she saw Nora wearing her clothes, having relations with her fiancé, and being called by her name…

When Nora, who had planned the entire thing, gave her such a radiant smile—

Eleanor decided to put an end to it all.

No more pretending to be nice.