Chapter 2
Frill Brenthio.
I was a child who was supposed to die.
When I was born, every doctor predicted that I would not survive. But the moment I possessed this body, Frill miraculously lived.
Of course, having survived by a miracle didn’t mean I was healthy—my body was as fragile as a sunfish.
I didn’t even have the strength to suck on a baby bottle, and simply lying still left me panting for breath…
Still, with the “possession buff” and my parents’ relentless devotion combined, I managed to survive until now.
Mother imported rare medicines from around the world through her trading company, while Father even mobilized his siblings to obtain all sorts of elixirs—even in the middle of a war.
An astronomical amount had been spent on this one frail body—so much that I couldn’t help but grow healthier.
The once sickly, delicate frame gradually regained its vitality.
As I was happily sucking on my pacifier, Father carefully opened the door and stepped in.
I was sure—like always—that his shoulders would be drooping again today.
When my maternal grandfather, the head of the Eustis Trading Company, passed away, the company was inherited by my mother, Luciana.
The problem was that the company’s main base was in the southern Eustis territory.
Father couldn’t go with her—his duty was to wield the Empire’s “sword” and remain at the Emperor’s side.
After Mother proposed that they live as a “weekend couple” while she moved south, Father’s signature “killer smile” had vanished without a trace.
But today?
The faint curve of that killer smile meant something good must have happened.
“I received His Majesty’s approval today.”
No way…
Mother, meeting my gaze in the cradle, had the same suspicious look as I did.
“What do you mean?”
“I requested a transfer to the south… and His Majesty approved it.”
Of course, “approval” was just another word for “he caved to my threats.”
Father had dropped a bombshell—if the transfer wasn’t approved, he would resign. That must have driven the Emperor up the wall.
Gerard, the youngest of the martial Brenthio family, had been hailed as the “golden youngest” thanks to his unmatched talent. Losing such a man would be a national loss.
In the end, the Emperor had no choice but to approve the transfer—on the condition that Father return to the capital whenever the Empire needed him.
Usually, moving from the capital to a southern territory meant demotion.
Yet there he was, grinning like a man who had just won the lottery.
Sucking on my pacifier, I thought idly, Love really does make you do crazy things.
Mother seemed to agree, turning her head slightly.
And then—
“Well done.”
…Huh? Why did the conversation go that way?
Moreover—
“I’ve already secured an estate near your trading company. How about living there?”
The two of them, perfectly in sync, quickly wrapped up the move, and I was whisked away to the southern territory in my cradle.
The seaside estate, where cool breezes blew and the waves sometimes roared, was the place where Mother often sang. As expected… Father was a hopeless wife-lover.
My fifth birthday.
Unlike other young ladies, my birthdays were always simple family affairs.
Simple… but for the past four years, the gifts had been outrageous.
A custom doll hand-made by my muscular father, the Brenthio family’s treasured sword, the Kielhoff gold mine, the Eustis territory…
What kind of ridiculous gift would I get this year?
A sense of dread was already creeping in.
Wearing a pointed birthday hat atop my chubby cheeks, I glanced at Mother, then Father, in turn.
Father, clearly pleased, finally announced my fifth birthday present.
“I’ve transferred ownership of Atelier No. 15 to your name, Frill.”
“…!”
Did I hear that right?
Who gives a villa as a present… to a five-year-old?
I love you, Dad.
I dashed toward him to hug him, but instead he scooped me up, spun me around in the air several times, and rubbed his cheek against mine.
“Who would dare take my daughter away?”
Mother, ever the competitive one, added, “Of course, someone far more handsome than you will take her away.”
…Alright, Mom. I won’t be greedy about marriage in this lifetime.
It’s a shame to waste this level of beauty, but—
It’s fine.
If I can spend my life watching the killer smiles of this perfect couple, I’ll gladly stay single.
Life as a solo didn’t seem so bad.
Those happy days continued.
As I grew older, my parents respected my opinion in all matters.
I decided that I would attend social events only once I was fully recovered.
And honestly, children my age felt more like much-younger siblings than friends—so I didn’t mind the isolation.
Besides, I hated nothing more than making polite small talk in places I didn’t want to be.
As a result, I had plenty of free time.
A precious holiday, given to me after my workaholic life in my past world!
I indulged in all the things I hadn’t been able to enjoy before—
Watching operas and exhibitions.
Collecting fashion dolls and playing dress-up.
Pretending to be a painter.
…
…
…and feasting on gourmet food made by head chefs.
Most of these were calm, quiet activities due to my still-fragile health, but it was the perfect kind of vacation for me.
Sometimes I enjoyed carriage rides, observing the elaborate outfits of the nobles in town.
Seeing them stirred something inside me—an old dream I had almost forgotten.
Sketches began forming in my mind.
Before long, countless designs filled my thoughts.
Three years later, I began sketching in earnest.
At eight years old, I received permission from my parents to visit the villa alone, and I often spent time there.
Mother became busier with the trading company, and Father accompanied her as her escort, so the villa was often empty.
Of course, Father had assigned a bodyguard—Caymon.
Caymon, the Brenthio family’s youngest-ever knight, had fought his way through fierce competition and was Father’s most prized student, the pride of Brenthio.
In the future, he would become famous as both the Emperor’s guard and a strategist.
Guarding an eight-year-old might have seemed beneath him, but… who could stop the doting Gerard?
Besides, Caymon seemed to take pride in the job—after all, it meant protecting the person most precious to his superior.
If he saw it that way, I had no intention of spoiling his sentiment.
Atelier No. 15 was surrounded by a dazzling, sparkling sea, with the sound of waves crashing against the shore.
Here, I often opened my sketchbook and drew fashion illustrations.
My parents were open-minded and generous in supporting any field of study, but this was my little secret.
Because for an eight-year-old, my sketches were far too good to dismiss as childish doodles.
Two years later, when I was ten, the most important family event—Mother’s birthday—was approaching.
The difference this year was that I would be attending the party.
Until I was nine, I had used my health as an excuse to skip it, but now I was too healthy to hide behind that excuse.
Besides, Mother subtly seemed to want me there.
If I skipped it again this year, the rumors about me would only grow worse.
At ten, it was a little early, but among high-ranking nobles, talk of marriage prospects for their children had already begun.
Still—who would offer their son to a girl who might die any day?
Mother had every reason to be concerned.
I didn’t want my small comfort to result in her being pitied by others.
And… perhaps I, too, was curious about finding a decent boy.
There was a time when I planned to live single, but watching my affectionate parents had changed my mind.
For my first formal party, the maid in charge of my appearance pulled out all the stops, turning my already beautiful face into pure legend.
Braided hair adorned with cute frilled lace, and—of course—the finishing touch: this face.
Yes. With this beauty, what could possibly be out of reach?
Gentlemen, charming rogues, smooth talkers, devoted puppy-like types…
This life, I would meet them all before I died.
Looking back, in my past life I had been too much of a workaholic—romance was the one thing I had missed out on.
Holding Father’s hand as we walked downstairs, I saw the towering cake, nearly as tall as he was.
Of course Father must have prepared this.
At the central seat of honor sat Mother, the star of the evening.
Her red gown with pearl accents, paired with a modest tiara, made her beauty even more radiant.
Surrounding her were three noblewomen hostile to the Eustis family.
Not inviting them would have been too obvious, so an obligatory invitation must have been sent.
Still, they had come—only to make thinly veiled jabs disguised as polite conversation.
“Frill is already ten years old now, isn’t she?”
“That’s right. She’s at the perfect age to find a fiancé…”
Bringing up something unpleasant on what should be the happiest day—
This roundabout “concern” was the classic noble tactic of striking at someone’s weakness while pretending to care.
“You must be worried, Lady Luciana. If there’s anything we can do to help, tell us. My husband could procure some medicine for you.”
Mother, graceful as ever, snapped her fan shut. The beautiful face she revealed was as dazzling as always.
“No need to worry. Any medicine you could procure is something my trading company can obtain with ease.”
Once again, she poured a refreshing bucket of “cider” over her opponents, maintaining her elegant composure.
“…Oh? I think you misunderstand—we only said that because we heard the child spends most of her time bedridden.”
“I only said it because I was worried you might waste your efforts. And by the way, suitors for my daughter are plentiful, so you needn’t worry about that either.”
The group stiffened, their eyes widening.
“Are you saying there’s already talk of marriage?”
Mother’s face took on the fierce pride of a predator ready to make a bold declaration.
“No. I’m saying—she’s my daughter, Luciana’s daughter.”
A radiant smile bloomed on the face that had once ruled the social scene.
“My husband and I have excellent genes, you see.”
Looks like it’s my turn to step in now.
