Chapter 06
“Bees?”
A shining golden bee buzzed aggressively around me.
“…You guys again, huh.”
Jerome, startled by the unexpected commotion, came out of the study, his displeasure obvious. As soon as he appeared, the bees immediately hid behind me.
“This… this woman is ominous!”
Chéruy suddenly jabbed his finger at my face. He waved it close to my nose, trembling with some kind of indignation.
“She definitely cursed me!”
When Jerome didn’t react, Chéruy started shouting in earnest, his voice straining.
“You must kick her out immediately! If we leave her here, something terrible will happen in this house!”
He was yelling so fiercely, his face flushed red, that anyone who didn’t know better would think I’d done something truly outrageous.
“Brother! Are you… feeling a strange sense of kinship?”
Chéruy, utterly excited, seemed ready to charge straight to the afterlife.
“The cursed and the curser are both filthy and awful! The temple executes them all regardless of reason!”
Wait… isn’t he just insulting himself for being a cursed odd-eyed person?
He has no idea how things will end. He lived his life well, fattening up happily until his death.
It’s unfair. What kind of life did my favorite have to live?
His pain. His sorrow.
When I read the original story, it hit me vividly. Everything he did was for his beloved sister, Solar—but she abandoned him.
“Hey!”
Chéruy, caught off-guard by my energy, shrank back. It’s fine if he insults me, but I would no longer tolerate insults toward Jerome Dycus.
“Then you’re cursed too. So we’ll all get punished together! You! Your brother! And me, the three of us will die side by side!”
I would pluck every strand of his cotton-candy-like hair if I had to.
Charging toward him, Chéruy immediately ran to Jerome. The duke’s chest, wrapped in a purple uniform, blocked my path.
“Not coming closer?”
“Look! His eyes have gone mad! He’s angry! Almost like… your brother’s eyes, full of madness… heh!”
Chéruy, trying to get agreement, realized his slip and shut his mouth. The attacked duke showed no change in expression.
“No… no, that was a slip of the tongue! Brother!”
“Chéruy Dycus.”
The differently colored ‘cursed odd-eyes’ of the duke gleamed.
“Brother! I was wrong! It’s my fault!”
The situation ended in an instant. Chéruy followed Jerome back into the study, repeatedly bowing and begging.
“Because of you!”
“What did I do!”
Panting and glaring at me, he hadn’t dared approach his own brother. Since Jerome had personally restrained him, I decided not to argue further.
Instead, I smiled faintly at Chéruy’s eyes and firmly gave him the middle finger.
Take that.
Wing-wing.
The bees continued to buzz around me. At first, it was annoying, but humans are adaptable, and I got used to them quickly. If I ignored that they were insects, they even seemed somewhat cute.
No one else seemed to notice these sparkling bees.
My little secret friend.
But why do I have to be stuck with bees?
I had seen this in other novels before—creatures called divine beasts helping a possessed female protagonist. Usually, they were beautiful birds, butterflies, fairies, or cute pets.
Sighing at the bee, its wings flapped faster. It seemed to sense my displeasure.
Alright. Sorry. Let’s get along.
I apologized in my mind. When I reached out my hand, it circled around me as if accepting my apology. I wanted to see its expression up close, but looking closely, it was just insect-like and creepy.
Eye contact would have to wait.
Knock-knock.
“Come in.”
“Miss. This is a gift sent by the Duke.”
A handsome young man with light brown hair entered.
A gift delivered by someone this good-looking?
“Ahem. Miss.”
“Uh? Ah, yes.”
Lucy subtly stopped me with a small cough. I couldn’t control my expression; without seeing a mirror, I probably had the brightest smile in the world.
Behind the man were several gift boxes stacked neatly.
“I will open them for you, Miss.”
The boxes were adorned with elaborate ribbons.
Opening one wrapped in red ribbon and green paper revealed shoes. Small embroidered flowers, delicate lace, and such precise, vivid embroidery they seemed almost fragrant.
Shoes!
“They’re really pretty. Try the next box.”
Another box—more shoes.
Shoes again!
“Wow, pretty! More shoes…”
The second and third boxes contained shoes too. Silk, embroidered, high-heeled or low-heeled, a variety of shoes. Lucy’s hands slowed down as she unwrapped each, already expecting more shoes.
All the way to the eighth box—still shoes.
How many shoes is this…
I only have two feet. What am I supposed to do with all these?
“These were quickly adjusted to your size, Miss. The custom-made shoes will arrive once finished.”
“There’s more? Why?”
“The Duke asked if there were no shoes in the mansion. I told him none matched your size.”
A cheerful answer for such a strange question.
No shoes in the mansion?
I clearly remembered Jerome’s voice when he looked down at my feet. The Duke had prepared shoes out of consideration. Though there were many, it was exciting.
Could it be… the Duke likes me?
A fresh girl like you is new to me. Be mine.
Dreams and fantasies filled my mind. His personality was a bit rough, but he was handsome, so I could overlook that. We’d be happy together.
“This box looks different.”
The next box was clearly not for shoes.
“These are books you need, Miss.”
“You Can Complete It in Three Days! Advanced Culture”
“Concepts of Elegance”
“Ultimate Social Skills”
“The Basics of Culture”
Somehow familiar titles, blending sophistication and refinement.
“You must copy these by hand and submit them to the Duke. Deadline: next week.”
All of these…?
They were thick hardcover books, four in total, but still heavy.
“Yes. He said it’s essential for cultivating refinement.”
The Duke made sure I wouldn’t misunderstand. He just cared about appearances, hence the abundant orders.
Once again, I had misjudged the villainous Jerome.
“How many pages is this?”
I borrowed the study desk to copy by hand. My fingers tingled. No matter how much I wrote, progress was slow. It would probably take at least three months, maybe half a year, if done daily.
To finish this in a week…
I think everyone hates me.
“New faces are always met with caution.”
Lucy calmly turned the pages and answered.
Her gaze was fixed on the book, even though it was much thicker than the cultural books. She turned pages naturally.
How can anyone hate someone as lovely as me?
“Isn’t that the problem? People rarely admit it themselves.”
Lucy always saw right through everything. I coughed quietly and focused on copying. Tiny, dense letters strained my eyes.
My eyes might pop out. Whoever made this book clearly doesn’t consider others.
I checked the author: Elizabeth Grid. Noted.
The white pages I opened for copying were full of doodles.
Useless Chéruy. Cold-blooded Jerome Dycus. Lucy. Pumpkin.
I finally gave up and buried my head on the desk. My brain couldn’t process any more letters. I wished I could rest.
Learning doesn’t only come from books. Some learn better in practice.
“What are you talking about, Miss?”
What else?
I don’t want to study. I hate books.
“Your skill in turning a short statement into something long and difficult is impressive. Winding around the main point… typical noble trait.”
Is that what nobles are like?
“Yes. They’re not efficient. Accustomed to formalities and all.”
I’m Korean, so I didn’t think much of it, but was this dangerous to say?
Lucy was very skeptical of the class system.
Why does it feel like my face is melting?
Even while focused on the book, she noticed my gaze and asked immediately.
The hair’s changed again.
Today her hair was blue—a refreshing shade like some sports drink, almost painful to the eyes.
Lots of wigs.
“Why?”
“Shh. A painful secret.”
“Okay. I know. I won’t ask further.”
Hair loss!
I’d lost hair from excessive dieting, cried every time I washed my hair, and ate tons of beans.
Even with herbal remedies, hair loss had no cure.
If there were black beans, I’d roast some for Lucy.
“And someone your age learns quickly. There are plenty who can’t even read.”
“Thanks for the encouragement, Lucy.”
“You’re welcome.”
Across the desk, Lucy sipped tea. Raising her pinky slightly, she drank quietly—a picture of elegance.
I quietly watched. I thought she only knew medicine and herbalism, but she could read.
Though dressed as a maid, she moved gracefully. Silent steps, elegant posture—she could easily pass for Solar.
“Lucy. Have you ever studied culture?”
“No.”
Her speech had a refined tone.
Are you from a noble family?
Lucy froze at my question.
