Chapter 1
‘…What if they hate me there too?’
With a gloomy expression, Erika worried silently.
The carriage jolted violently, making her thin body sway side to side, but it couldn’t shake the thoughts from her mind.
‘I’m scared. Terrified.’
Though she knew it wasn’t a long journey from the Blanche Marquessate to the Grand Temple in the capital, she still hoped they’d arrive as late as possible.
Clunk!
The carriage rocked again. Her bony hip slammed into something, and tears welled up in Erika’s eyes from the pain.
It wasn’t just because she was so frail—it was also the carriage’s fault.
For a marquessate, the quality of the carriage was terribly poor.
And as if the coachman were purposely choosing the roughest path, the jostling continued endlessly.
Just like Erika’s worries.
‘Can I really do this? What if I make a mistake…’
Even just imagining it sent a chill down her spine.
Cold sweat broke out, sticking the neatly styled bangs from earlier that morning to her forehead.
Her anxious heart wouldn’t calm.
‘Can I endure this until the end?’
It was a heavy burden for someone as young as her.
Maybe that’s why—
Once she recognized her fear, what little confidence she had left dug itself into a hole, and negative thoughts kept pouring into her mind.
‘Wh-what do I do? What if I mess up? What if they find out…?!’
When the despair overwhelmed her and she began lightly banging her head against the wall of the carriage—
Slam!
A large hand gripped her shoulder firmly.
“Ah…!”
Startled, Erika quickly snapped to attention.
When she turned with wide eyes, she saw Bonfiju glaring at her, brow furrowed deep enough to leave vertical lines between her eyes.
“B-Bonfiju ma’am…”
Erika’s voice trembled as she uttered the name.
Her mouth was dry. Bonfiju, the head maid of the Blanche household and the marquess’s closest confidante, was an incredibly intimidating presence for Erika.
Bonfiju didn’t bother hiding her irritation.
“You might as well be trying to get caught.”
There were only two people in the carriage: Erika and Bonfiju. Yet Bonfiju stared at her as if she were shouting in a crowded room.
The timid girl tried to explain with her quivering lips.
“I-it’s not like that…”
“Talking back? Seems that nasty habit of yours is surfacing again.”
Squeeze!
Bonfiju’s grip on Erika’s shoulder tightened even more.
“S-sorry!”
Erika flinched and squeezed her eyes shut.
The scolding that followed was ice-cold.
“I believe I taught you this already. Sighing is a vulgar habit. And sit up straight.”
“A-ah… I-I’m sorry.”
Erika had no choice but to watch every movement Bonfiju made, despite the woman being just a head maid.
Because even if she wore the clothes of a noble lady, Erika knew well enough that she wasn’t a true noble.
Even as she apologized, Bonfiju didn’t ease her cold gaze.
Her next words, sharp as knives, made Erika shrink even more.
“Engrave this into your bones: you are now the face of the Blanche family. Do not forget it.”
“…Yes.”
Though Erika answered immediately, it didn’t sound very convincing.
“By accepting this role, you now carry a duty. Until the coming-of-age ceremony, you are to flawlessly play the part of the real Lady Erika. Take great care not to bring disgrace upon the Blanche name.”
Bonfiju continued sternly,
“Under no circumstances are you to give the Duke of Acliff even the smallest excuse to question us. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Bonfiju ma’am.”
As Erika obediently nodded, Bonfiju clicked her tongue.
“Don’t nod. No noble lady would respond in such a vulgar way.”
Vulgar.
The word was deliberately spat out to insult her. Its intention was obvious, and Erika shrank further into herself.
She clenched the hem of her dress tightly—then quickly remembered how much it must have cost, and loosened her grip.
Instead, she bit the soft flesh inside her cheek hard, then released it to whisper in the faintest voice,
“Yes. I’ll do as you say.”
Bonfiju clicked her tongue again, clearly still annoyed.
“I don’t know why you ended up as the Blanche family’s representative, but it’s too late to change things now. Just be sure to behave yourself.”
“…I understand.”
Her voice kept getting smaller.
Erika lowered her head, staring at the floor, her voice almost inaudible.
She nearly nodded again out of habit but caught herself just in time and straightened up.
Bonfiju still looked displeased by Erika’s very presence, but fortunately, she didn’t nitpick further.
“Do well.”
She released Erika’s shoulder with a final warning, her gaze sharp and long before she finally turned away.
Phew…
Only then did Erika feel a sliver of relief from the tension.
She dropped her gaze, swallowing her sigh.
Only now did she realize she had been fidgeting with her fingertips instead of grasping the fabric of her fine dress for fear of wrinkling it.
Meanwhile, the carriage gradually began to slow.
‘We’re already… near the Grand Temple.’
Realizing they were nearing the destination, Erika tightly shut her eyes, then opened them again.
‘There’s really no turning back now.’
Yes. Erika knew.
Once she stepped into this carriage, she had no path of escape.
‘I have to do this. No matter what.’
Even though the anxiety wouldn’t go away, the girl silently swallowed her dry saliva and steeled herself.
Today was Erika’s wedding day.
Erika Blanche.
The only daughter of the Blanche family.
However, she was born prematurely and frail.
It had been a difficult birth—and the Marquess’s wife died giving birth to her.
Having finally gained a child, the household treasured her dearly.
Fearing even a scratch from a breeze, everyone doted on her obsessively, and so she naturally grew up spoiled and entitled.
She was so violent and imperious that it was hard to believe she was just a child, and countless nannies were replaced as a result.
With caretakers constantly changing, the child grew further from stability.
Eventually, a young commoner named Julia was hired as the final nanny.
And then something strange happened.
That young nanny had a daughter the same age as Erika Blanche.
Even her name was also Erika. The two shared the exact same name.
So Erika Blanche hated the nanny’s daughter intensely.
“Don’t you dare use that name! That’s my name! Someone like you isn’t allowed to use it!”
Everyone, even the little girl herself, knew how absurd the demand was.
But Erika Blanche was a child—and children could be unreasonable.
Wanting to grant every wish of his sickly daughter, the Marquess called the nanny in.
“Julia. Wouldn’t it be best to change your daughter’s name? People get confused. She’s still young—she’ll get used to it soon enough.”
Of course, it was pressure disguised as suggestion.
“Her name is the only thing her father left her. I’m sorry, my lord, but I can’t.”
“I’ll make sure you’re generously compensated. Why be so stubborn? It’s just a name.”
“I’m sorry, Marquess.”
But Julia stood firm, even going so far as to say that if he insisted, she would resign.
“Tch…”
Yet Erika Blanche had grown unusually attached to the young nanny.
The Marquess decided it would be better for his daughter to keep Julia around, thinking it would have a more positive effect.
“I didn’t expect you to be this resolute. Fine, she can keep her name. But please don’t say it around my daughter and upset her.”
“…”
After much thought, Julia nodded.
“I’ll be careful around the young lady.”
And so, instead of her real name Erika, the girl was called “nanny’s daughter,” “Riri,” or “Rika.”
The young Erika, daughter of the nanny, was heartbroken.
Her name became something only her mother called her.
But she had no choice but to endure it quietly.
The Blanche household was her mother’s workplace, and she was nothing more than a guest.
That’s how she lived—quietly, for years.
Then, one day—
“The Marquess is asking for me…?”
The nanny’s daughter Erika received a sudden summons from the head of the Blanche family.
