chapter 01
- The Capital
“How is the young lady feeling?”
“She’s still not well. Her fever won’t go down, so she can’t eat anything.”
Blanndea Lefebvre had come down with a high fever as soon as she returned home from a three-month stay away from the mansion. As the carefully sheltered daughter of the Lefebvre family, she had very little contact with the outside world, so the only ones who truly knew her were the household members.
“Enri.”
The lady of the Lefebvre family, Anesa, called out to Enricor. He was leaning his forehead against the window, looking utterly hopeless.
“Why are you staying in her room all day? The butler says he’s very worried about you.”
“Mother…”
Enricor mumbled in a gloomy voice.
“Should I… change my name?”
“…?”
“Blan just breaks out in cold sweat whenever she hears my nickname… and she has nightmares every single night.”
“Ahh.”
Anesa gently wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders and patted Enricor on the head.
“It’s okay.”
She already knew the reason. It was because the boy Blanndea had met during those three months in the Red District called her “Enri”—the same nickname.
Anesa, who once told Enricor that he couldn’t get a scar on his forehead, now thought about Blanndea’s once bright blonde hair, now faded and dull.
When Blanndea asked permission to stay three more months to help rebuild the orphanage, she promised to always be accompanied by a guard wherever she went—and she had kept that promise completely. That’s why, as soon as Blanndea came back home barely hanging onto life, Anesa had been able to learn everything that had happened—every single detail.
The reconstruction of the Red District orphanage had gone very well. The temporary use of the Siedo family name for those three months had been settled appropriately with compensation. After all, the Siedo family was a vassal under the Lefebvre family, and they rarely left their estate anyway.
There had been some childish tension with the new lady of the Procyon family, but it hadn’t been worth paying attention to. For a family like Lefebvre, that kind of thing wasn’t even a challenge. Besides, it seemed like something was going on within the Procyon family lately—they were preparing to leave the capital and return to their estate in a hurry.
“When will Blan get better?”
“This will be the last time. She won’t get sick again after this.”
“Really?”
“Of course, Enri.”
Enricor slammed his forehead against the window.
“Still, I think I’ll change my name anyway…”
****
“I’m such trash.”
Blanndea had her face buried in a pillow, wearing an expression that said exactly that.
Knock knock.
A knock on the door was heard at that moment.
“Blan, are you awake? Oh my poor girl, you look so pale.”
Anesa sat on the edge of Blanndea’s bed.
“Blan.”
“Yes…”
“Why didn’t you bring that boy back home?”
Blanndea’s eyes widened in shock. It was the first time Anesa had mentioned anything about Schloitz. Then again, if it hadn’t been for Anesa, Blanndea wouldn’t have been allowed to go to the Red District in the first place. Even with memories from her past life, she was still a child—she wouldn’t have been able to prepare everything so thoroughly on her own.
Blanndea fidgeted with her fingers, then finally spoke.
“I….”
Suddenly, tears began pouring from her eyes. Anesa was startled.
“My sweet girl? Why are you crying? Don’t cry, alright?”
“I… was so… full of myself…”
“…Huh?”
Of all the children Anesa had seen in her life, Blanndea was one of the most cautious and quiet. Hearing her say something like this didn’t quite make sense.
Tears rolled down her still-round, childlike cheeks.
“I… almost ruined… his whole life… just because… I wanted to feel better…”
“…What?”
“I… hurt him so badly… when I knew… I couldn’t even… take responsibility…”
“…Huh?”
She looked so small—like she could be five years old—but the things coming out of her mouth were far too grown-up. That didn’t last long, though. Still sniffling, Blanndea suddenly broke down completely, crying loudly like a little child.
“My baby, don’t cry. Mommy’s heart is breaking, okay?”
Anesa had to work hard to calm Blanndea down as she held her gently in her arms.
“Let me know when Blanndea wakes up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It wasn’t until Blanndea finally fell asleep that Anesa stepped out of the room. With Enricor holed up, banging his head against a window, and Blanndea sobbing in her arms, Anesa was overwhelmed.
At the same time, she couldn’t understand. After hearing Blanndea’s explanation, she was even more confused.
“What does she mean, she almost ruined his life?”
In truth, the boy had basically been abandoned by the Procyon family—his only tie to them was his last name. Blanndea wasn’t a talkative child, but she thought deeply. The fact that she never gave the boy her real name, only Enricor’s nickname, said a lot. She must have had an idea.
Blanndea likely knew that the Lefebvre family had enough power to take in a boy who had been cast aside and give him a good life.
But despite that, she had ended things coldly and returned after hurting the boy deeply.
“Ma’am, I don’t know if I should say this, but I overheard what Miss Blanndea said… and even I felt hurt, just listening.”
“I can’t picture it. Are you sure she said that?”
“Yes. If it were Young Master Enricor, he would’ve cried a bucket of tears.”
“Why would Blan say something like that?”
As Anesa grew serious, Dylan—the inspector who had been giving his report—spoke up.
“Ma’am, while I was packing up, I saw the young lady’s face. When she said those harsh things to the boy… she looked like she was about to cry.”
Why would Blanndea hurt him like that while looking ready to burst into tears?
“She must have had a reason, but still…”
Blanndea had always been sick since she was very little. Because of that, Anesa had always stayed close to her daughter and knew one thing well: Blanndea never had anything she truly wanted.
At first, Anesa thought it was just because her daughter had been in pain for so long. But sometimes, the young girl wore a look like someone who had lived a full life already. Every time Anesa saw that face, her heart would sink.
So when Blanndea asked to visit the orphanage and help the children, Anesa hesitated—then allowed it. Honestly, what parent would willingly let their sickly seven-year-old daughter go to a dangerous slum, no matter how noble the reason?
If that hadn’t been the first time in Blanndea’s life she ever said “I want to do this,” Anesa would’ve done everything she could to stop her.
Blanndea was too mature for her age, and because of that, Anesa often—no, constantly—felt sorry for her.
And on top of that…
There was someone in the house even more intense than Anesa.
“Ma’am! The Lord has returned!”
The door burst open with a bang.
“Anesa! Where is Blan? Is our daughter okay?”
Lenard, the head of the Lefebvre family, had rushed back from the estate after hearing that Blanndea had collapsed with a high fever. His breath was heavy as he rushed in, clearly having hurried as fast as he could.
And so, for a while, the Lefebvre couple were completely overwhelmed—taking turns calming their children, who were either crying, in despair, having nightmares, or banging their heads while insisting on changing their names.
****
