Cordelia clenched her small fists and packed her few belongings.

She had escaped from the orphanage all alone a year ago and had been living a hard life ever since.

It didn’t take long to gather the things—so shabby they barely counted as belongings.

Money barely enough to buy a loaf of bread, one set of old clothes picked up from the trash, and a rag doll.

That was everything she owned.

‘Alright. Perfect.’

There was no time to waste.

Cordelia decided to carry out her plan right away.

She slung the thin bundle over her back and put her clothes on over it.

The clothes were far too big for her thin frame.

It felt like the wind could blow right through. It looked more like the clothes were wearing Cordelia rather than the other way around.

But she didn’t care.

What mattered was that the bundle wasn’t visible.

“Cordelia! Cordeliaaa―!”

Just as she was about to leave, a loud shout rang in her ears.

It was a shrill, scratchy voice like metal scraping metal.

“You’ve gone deaf after being sick for three days? You lazy pig, why aren’t you here yet?! I know your fever’s gone, so don’t pretend to be sick!”

Cordelia scowled.

The person calling her was Madame Pamela.

Madame Pamela gathered children with nowhere to go, like Cordelia, and forced them to pickpocket, beg, or sell flowers—then took all their earnings.

In return, she gave them a place to sleep and one bowl of thin soup a day without any solid ingredients.

Just barely enough to keep the kids alive.

Cordelia had ended up under Madame Pamela by chance after escaping the orphanage.

Madame Pamela was from the back alleys, and people from there were rough with their words.

So Cordelia, who had grown used to being cursed at like it was normal, ran toward Madame Pamela and snapped back.

“I’m not pretending! And with all that fat hanging on you, you probably can’t even see me standing right in front of you!”

Madame Pamela glared at Cordelia.

Unlike skinny Cordelia, Madame, who made money by exploiting clueless kids, had plenty of fat on her.

“Why are you just staring? Are your eyes and mouth buried in all that fat too?”

“Here’s today’s job. Go work already.”

Most kids would get scared if an adult glared at them, but Cordelia stared right back, and it was Madame who looked away first.

“You wicked brat,” she muttered, and shoved a basket full of red roses into Cordelia’s arms.

“You know you don’t get dinner if you don’t sell all of them, right?”

“Have you ever seen me not do my job properly?”

“With the way you talk, it sounds like you’ve never gone a day without eating.”

Cordelia sneered at Madame’s warning not to get too confident.

Madame turned her head sharply, clearly not wanting to look at Cordelia anymore.

Cordelia pretended to walk past her, then glanced sneakily at Madame’s leg.

When Madame got distracted and stopped paying attention to her…

‘Now!’

Cordelia kicked Madame’s shin and bolted.

“Cordeliaaa―! You damned brat, just try not selling all those flowers!”

“Too bad! Bleh!”

Sticking out her tongue, Cordelia ran off while hearing Madame’s furious screams behind her.

If she didn’t sell the flowers, she wouldn’t just miss the day’s only meal—she’d also get beaten badly.

But the wilted flowers, picked from a park, were sold at high prices—of course they didn’t sell well.

Most kids thought begging was better than trying to sell the flowers.

Cordelia realized that Madame had given her the flowers just as an excuse to beat her later.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

She was saying goodbye to Madame starting today.

‘Goodbye, Saintess. Goodbye, Duke’s family. Goodbye, church. Goodbye, Madame!’

Her steps were light as she walked toward the edge of town.

Pretending to sell flowers on the street, Cordelia slowly backed into an alley.

She wasn’t sure how she’d survive once she escaped Madame’s grip, but if she stayed, she’d end up meeting the Saintess.

‘I don’t want to die in someone else’s place, and I don’t want to get burned alone in a fire either.’

Life always finds a way.

Just like she had stumbled upon Madame after leaving the orphanage.

‘There’s no such thing as just dying for no reason.’

Cordelia touched her cheek.

She didn’t have any baby fat left from always being hungry, but at least her skin was smooth. That would be gone if she met the Saintess.

In the original story, people felt really sorry after Cordelia got burned.

‘But not for me. For the Saintess.’

People didn’t like Cordelia, who always stayed near the Saintess. They were jealous and asked why someone so lowly stayed by her side.

Cordelia also had a sharp tongue and wasn’t sweet like the Saintess, so many people disliked her.

‘Even those three young lords hated me. Maybe they left me behind on purpose.’

After her already average face was burned, people praised the Saintess even more for staying with such a “hideous” child.

[Look at that face. Doesn’t she look like a monster?]
[She has the same name as the Saintess, but her face and personality are completely different. That name is a disgrace.]

The uglier Cordelia became, the more the Saintess shone. They were like light and shadow.

Cordelia walked faster.

She couldn’t relax, worrying that one of Madame Pamela’s people might see her escaping.

Just in case, she held tightly onto the flower basket, ready to make an excuse.

But then she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

A familiar smell filled her nose.

‘Blood.’

The narrow alley had only one way out. It was awkward to turn back now.

So Cordelia carefully moved forward.

Just a few steps ahead, she saw an adult man sitting slumped against the wall.

As she cautiously got closer, she noticed his eyes were closed.

But that wasn’t the real problem.

‘Silver-blue hair?’

Silver-blue hair was the symbol of House Valencia.

That same House Valencia that once mistook Cordelia for the Saintess and kidnapped her.

Seeing that the man wasn’t moving, Cordelia approached him.

He looked like he’d been attacked—his body was covered in blood.

Anyone might have thought he was a corpse at first glance.

“…Is he really dead?”

Cordelia looked him up and down.

It was hard to see through all the blood, but he was wearing expensive clothes.

Cordelia’s eyes sparkled, and she reached out her hand.

Then she boldly searched his pockets.

‘Perfect timing. I really need a lot of money right now.’

Picking up money off the ground couldn’t be wrong.

Excited by this huge amount of emergency cash that seemed to fall from the sky, Cordelia was eagerly emptying his pockets—

When the man, who she thought was dead, suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“Gasp.”

Her heart almost jumped out of her chest.

Frozen stiff, Cordelia slowly looked up like a rusty machine.

And met a pair of deep crimson eyes, fresh like blood.

He was staring right at her with unfocused eyes.

“…Rosalyn?”

“I’m not her.”

It was the first time she’d heard that name.

Cordelia instinctively denied it and quietly pulled her hand from his pocket.

If he hadn’t been so gentle with his grip, she probably would’ve turned and run.

“Why… why didn’t you choose me? Why did you go to another man instead of me?”

The man kept mumbling things Cordelia couldn’t understand, mistaking her for this “Rosalyn.”

Cordelia struggled to escape, but despite bleeding so much his clothes were soaked, he was incredibly strong.

Just as she was about to give up, he suddenly pulled her into his arms.

Cordelia blinked, surprised to find herself suddenly hugged.

Startled, she dropped the flower basket. Roses scattered across the ground.

“If you tell me to kneel, I’ll kneel. If you tell me to crawl like a dog under you, I will.”

“……”

“Tell me you love me, not him. I’m the only one who still listens to your last wishes.”

His words were pitiful yet arrogant.

He mumbled more, his breath shallow from pain.

But his pronunciation was so unclear that Cordelia only caught a few words.

“…At least your daughter… I will…”

And then silence.

Cordelia rolled her eyes while stuck in his arms.

He seemed to have fainted again—but even passed out, he was still too strong to escape from.

In fact, as soon as Cordelia saw his face, something horrifying clicked in her mind.

Silver-blue hair and red eyes.

Even if the hair was one thing, the eye color and expensive clothes narrowed it down to just one identity.

‘Duke Valencia!’

Cordelia screamed silently inside.

What cruel twist of fate made her run into him right after deciding never to see him again?

Grunting and groaning, Cordelia finally slipped out of the Duke’s arms and stared at him.

He had a handsome face.

Even with his eyes closed, his cold aura couldn’t be hidden.

But whether he was handsome or not, rich or poor, that wasn’t important right now.

What mattered was: why was this man, the Duke who would one day kill her, lying here like this?

Cordelia lightly tossed the pouch she stole from the Duke into the air and caught it.

It jingled nicely—it seemed to be full.

She was just about to run off with the money, but then crouched down.

‘If I help him a little, maybe he’ll think I saved his life?’

Duke Valencia was a bad man, but not someone who ignored a favor.

He repaid kindness twofold and held grudges for life.

He wasn’t purely evil—just someone with twisted morality and no clear boundary between good and bad.

If he believed something was right, he followed it regardless of common sense.

‘Let’s get some insurance.’

Even if she ran from the Saintess now, who knew what would happen in life?

If it was her fate to die at the Duke’s hands, maybe doing something nice now would help her later.

The Duke of Valencia, collapsed with serious wounds—this was a rare chance.

Cordelia made her decision, gulped down the pouch of money, and sprang into action.

A few moments later, in a quiet alley, a strange sight appeared:

A little girl dragging a grown man by the collar.