Chapter 5
They say no finger bitten bleeds without pain, but even among them, Lily was the most painful one in this foreign world.
As the youngest, she was endlessly pampered, but the way she clung to her sisters, crying “Unni, Unni,” was like a helpless little chick.
When such a lovely girl burst onto the social scene like a comet, public opinion was divided in two.
Some followed her; others cruelly tore her down.
It’s said one harsh word hurts more than ten compliments heal—and Lily’s harassment was particularly vicious and underhanded.
At the time, Rose had just taken over the family’s responsibilities and was incredibly busy. Naturally, it fell to Frisia to care for Lily, who was even showing signs of depression.
Though she hadn’t actually given birth to her, after years of raising her, Frisia often felt like she was raising a daughter.
“You’ve grown taller again. It’s about time for a new dress.”
Since then, the entire internal affairs of House Deblanc had fallen to Frisia.
Supporting her older sister so she could manage the family business, while also raising her younger sister into a fine young lady.
Even though she was technically unemployed, Frisia’s days were endlessly busy.
“Frisia-unni, you’re just like a mom.”
“Please don’t say I resemble our mother.”
Frisia figured that if she became someone truly indispensable to the household, then no one would dare force her into a marriage she didn’t want.
Trusting her sister who insisted she stay by her side forever, Frisia decided to embrace her role as the proud home guardian.
“Are you sure you’re okay going alone?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
Lily was now composed and capable—Frisia knew she wouldn’t be pushed around by others. Still, she felt a bittersweet pang.
Is this what it feels like when your child becomes independent?
Though only two years apart, Lily had always been particularly clingy. But now she no longer whined and had grown into a respectable lady.
After seeing Lily off, Frisia called for Mileva.
“We need to get Lily a new dress. Please contact the dressmaker.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“And we’ll need shoes, too, so let them know in advance.”
Remembering the lost shoe, she smacked her lips in frustration.
With her tasks for the day sorted, Frisia tied on an apron and stood at the kitchen counter for the first time in a while.
“I think I’ll bake brownies today.”
“Really? Hey, the second lady’s baking brownies!”
Excited cheers rang out from the staff.
Frisia’s giant brownies, made with ten fistfuls of chocolate, were one of her few specialties.
Whatever else she wasn’t good at, she had full confidence in this.
To share with her sisters and the hardworking staff preparing for the ball, Frisia rolled up her sleeves and started making the batter herself.
It was a recipe straight from her previous life, and over time it had become something of a legend within House Deblanc.
Some staff even quietly looked forward to “brownie day.”
“They just need to bake now.”
“It already smells amazing.”
She patted a young maid’s drooling head and untied her apron.
They’d be done in about thirty minutes.
“Maybe I’ll take a nap.”
As she left the kitchen and stepped into the sitting room, the sunlight streaming through the windows felt particularly warm today.
It would be nice to lie down on the sofa and take a peaceful nap.
When Mileva’s cat poked its head out, Frisia crouched down and gently held out her hand.
“Come here, kitty.”
“Meow,” the cat purred, rubbing its head against her palm and purring contentedly.
As she lovingly stroked the affectionate cat, a flustered nanny suddenly burst in.
“Miss!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Um, you have… a visitor.”
She wasn’t expecting anyone. If it were the dress shop, it was too soon—they’d just been contacted.
“You should hurry.”
“Wasn’t it the dress shop?”
“No, it’s just… I don’t know how to explain…”
Seeing her flustered and babbling, it was clear this wasn’t an ordinary visitor.
Frisia hurried toward the mansion’s front hall.
“What the…”
Now she understood why the nanny was so disturbed.
As soon as she stepped outside, she saw rows of soldiers lined up from the garden, holding spears.
All bore the crest of House Cromford on their uniforms.
Fully dressed for a formal parade, they stood in perfect formation, looking as if a military inspection was underway.
With no clue what was going on, the servants were trembling in fear, and Frisia bit her lip.
They must have traced her here using the shoe she left behind.
‘Rose-unni, Lily… Frisia Deblanc’s pitiful life ends here.’
She knew all too well how cruel the Duke of Cromford could be.
Families who incurred his wrath were destroyed without even leaving behind an heir.
Subjects who defied him lost their homes in a blaze of fire.
Even if she groveled and begged, taking full blame and pleading for mercy, she doubted it would help.
Clenching her trembling hands, Frisia calmly faced the man who appeared to be in charge.
“What business brings you here, without notice and with so many people?”
“Miss!”
The servants tried to stop her, but she silenced them and steadied herself.
If he was sending soldiers openly to punish her for eavesdropping yesterday, it was proof of his mercilessness—the hallmark of the ultimate villain.
“Are you Lady Frisia Deblanc?”
“Yes, I am. So please—”
“My master instructed me to deliver this to you.”
She’d planned to beg for her family’s lives, but the Cromford envoy instead held out a box decorated with diamonds and rubies.
Hesitating, she carefully opened the lid.
Inside sat a single cream-colored shoe—the one she’d lost yesterday.
“Along with the instruction to return your lost item, my master also sent this letter.”
The ornate envelope bore Cromford’s signature in elegant, antique script—and her name, Frisia Deblanc, written clearly below.
As soon as the letter was handed over, the soldiers simultaneously struck their spears twice to the ground and knelt.
“Glory to the name of Cromford!”
“To glory!”
The mansion shook with their deafening shouts, leaving the servants and Frisia alike completely overwhelmed.
She didn’t know what they were doing in someone else’s home, but one thing was certain—
She was absolutely, unquestionably doomed.
Of all people, it had to be Cromford—the villain who wouldn’t die, no matter how many readers prayed for it over a thousand chapters.
The man who chased enemies to the ends of the earth just to kill them was now targeting her.
“Excuse me, could you please stand up now?”
“We cannot rise in the presence of our master’s letter.”
It wasn’t even the Duke himself—it was just a letter. And yet they were doing all this? She truly could not comprehend this lunacy.
“Fine. I’ll read it. Just—please, stand up.”
Only after she pleaded did the men finally rise.
With trembling fingers, she opened the envelope and peeked at the letter.
The handwriting was a disaster—an illegible scrawl of messy cursive.
‘Proposal… application… what the hell is this?’
Piecing together the few readable words, she finally got the gist.
‘Take responsibility… appropriate compensation will be made…’
And judging from the armed soldiers behind her, his intent was obvious.
“Is… is he serious?”
“This is an official request under the name of Cromford.”
He wanted her to take responsibility for eavesdropping—and pay a fitting price.
But sending a duel challenge to a woman? That was insane!
“I’ll just pretend I never saw this and return it.”
No one who knew her circumstances would send such a thing—someone as powerless as she’d never even held a weapon.
She shoved the letter back into the envelope without fully reading it.
“I’m sorry. I can’t possibly accept.”
A clear, humble surrender.
“But, Lady—”
“Tell the Duke I saw and heard nothing. I’ll behave properly, so please… just leave for today.”
That should’ve made her refusal clear.
The messenger reluctantly took back the letter.
“But our master…”
At that moment, the scent of freshly baked brownies wafted from the kitchen.
Even the soldiers began to salivate.
“Well, since you returned my shoe, I should offer something in return.”
She rushed to the kitchen and packed the hot brownies into a gift box.
A young maid was disappointed to lose them at the last second, but if she didn’t do this, House Deblanc might be doomed.
“Take these instead. Please tell him to forget about the letter.”
She had nothing of value, but the brownies of House Deblanc were so sweet, two people could die eating them and not even notice.
Hopefully, they’d eat and leave her alone.
“If that is your will, Lady, I shall deliver it safely to my master.”
According to the setting, he liked sweets.
Hopefully, that little fact would save her life.
They were the best brownies she’d made in a long time—but they were gone now.
She didn’t want to die such a pitiful death.
As she started mixing the batter again, Frisia held back a deep, regretful sigh.
