Chapter 3
Kicking the door might have been a bit much, but it was an effective way to announce my presence to everyone in the room. Unfortunately, the effect didn’t last long.
“I’ll take my leave now, knowing that’s how it is.”
“I won’t allow it!”
The Marquis, who had glanced at me just once because of the commotion, said what he wanted to the Marchioness and walked right out of the room. Watching his cold back retreat, the Marchioness let out a wail and collapsed to the floor, only to be swiftly caught by the nanny.
I wasn’t particularly hurt by the attitude of either the Marquis or Marchioness. But still, being ignored right to my face? That stung. There’s hardly anything more insulting.
“Aaaargh—!”
The Marchioness shrieked, yanking out her own hair in a fit of hysteria. Her wild red curls whipped about the room with each frantic motion. Though her hollowed cheeks gave her a pitiful look, her eyes were bloodshot and burning with a chilling malice.
They say daughters take after their mothers. Maybe that’s why the Marchioness now looked terrifyingly like Bionne in her final moments, dying full of hatred for the world.
The Marchioness had been the only daughter of the famed merchant Count Fisson. At eighteen, she had married Marquis Elient and become a Marchioness. Her infatuation with him and the lengths she went to marry him were still legendary in high society. Having fallen for him at first sight, she pursued him relentlessly for years—using any means necessary.
She hung around him constantly, recruited people close to him to monitor his every move. He was six years older than her, twenty-four at the time, and had already inherited the marquisate after the early death of his father. Young, handsome, and unmarried, he had no shortage of women vying for his attention.
Many women approached him, but she used her status and wealth to block every single one of them. She even personally sought some of them out and caused scenes. Nothing was off-limits for her. He was everything to her.
So when she finally married him, she was the happiest bride in the world.
There were rumors that the Fisson family had covered her dowry and nearly gone bankrupt in the process. But she didn’t care one bit. In fact, she thought no amount of money was too much to prove her worth.
She paid no mind to people whispering that she’d bought the Marquis with money. He was hers now, and she imagined their future would be filled with roses.
But reality wasn’t what she had dreamed.
The Marquis was a cold man. Affectionate gestures? He couldn’t even stand to be near her. No one knew why he married her. Maybe it was for money, as the rumors said. Maybe it was something else. Only the Marquis knew.
What was certain was that he hadn’t married her out of love. He treated her with the courtesy befitting a Marchioness—nothing more.
As the years went by, her longing for him only grew. The older he got, the more refined his charm became. And with it, her hysteria worsened.
She obsessed over him. Went mad for him. To someone like her, even her own child held no value—unless he had shown some interest in the child born between them. Maybe things would’ve been different. But their daughter, unable to inherit the title, meant nothing to him.
What mattered to him was the prosperity of the family.
What mattered to her was only him.
Neither of them cared the slightest bit about their daughter—me.
“It’s all your fault!”
Her scream snapped me out of my thoughts. At some point, she had turned toward me with a gaze full of hatred.
“If only you’d been born a boy!”
A hollow laugh escaped me at her cry of despair.
‘Would it have made any difference if I had been?’
She was delusional. The Marquis didn’t neglect her and me because I was a girl. He just didn’t care about either of us. Explaining that would be pointless. You can’t reason with a crazy person.
“Ahhh! It’s your fault! I said it’s your fault! Die! Just die!”
She lunged at me, swinging her hand. Her long nails barely missed my face.
“Madam, please calm down—ugh!”
The nanny managed to grab her arm, trying to soothe her. But, as the saying goes, crazy people gain strength. She shoved the nanny—who was nearly twice her size—aside and rushed at me again. With bloodshot eyes, she looked like she really meant to kill me. Even I couldn’t stay calm in front of that.
Survival instinct kicked in. My body reacted before my brain could think. I dodged and quickly grabbed the doorknob.
Bang!
Something heavy slammed against the door. I felt the impact through my back. Thankfully, the door was solid.
“Milady?”
The maids standing outside stared at me and the door behind me with shocked expressions. I returned their gazes as calmly as possible. I had long since grown thick-skinned. Bionne—or rather, I—had once been called the most shameless woman in the Empire. A few stares like these didn’t bother me.
“Aaaaargh!”
A shrill scream rang out from the other side of the door. I waved at a knight stationed nearby. He approached hesitantly. I pointed at the doorknob.
“Hold it.”
Though confused, he grabbed the knob. Just then, the door began to rattle. Instinctively, he pulled to keep it shut. The screaming behind it intensified. The knight looked at me with sweat dripping from his brow, silently begging for help.
I ignored him and waved over a nearby maid. She stepped forward hesitantly.
“Secure it.”
“Pardon?”
I frowned. My irritation was building. I pointed at the knight’s sword.
“Wedge it through the handle.”
“P-pardon?”
My glare made her flinch. She quickly drew the sword from the knight’s belt and stuck it through the handles. The knight stared at his sword, then at me, in disbelief.
Crrrreeeaaak!
“Madam, please!”
The door let out a spine-chilling screech—she was probably clawing at it. The nanny’s pleading voice followed.
I turned and smiled brightly at the others.
“Well then, thanks for your hard work.”
No one responded. Their mouths just hung open in shock.
I gave a little wave and walked off. Two maids, finally coming to their senses, hurried to follow me.
Come to think of it, the Marchioness was more hysterical than usual today. It must’ve been related to the encounter she just had with the Marquis.
Honestly, I was a little surprised to see him there myself. In all my life, I had never once seen the Marquis visit the Marchioness’s quarters. In fact, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen them together in the same room.
Unlike the Marchioness, who would barge into his quarters frequently, the Marquis never went to hers. He even stationed knights around his rooms and office to stop her from entering unannounced. Given that, my birth seemed like a miracle.
Some reckless fools whispered that I might not be the Marquis’s real child. I made sure every one of those fools was punished—crippled at the very least, sometimes even killed. Still, the rumors never stopped.
To be fair, based solely on appearance, the rumors made sense. I didn’t resemble the Marquis at all. I took entirely after the Marchioness. Not a single feature hinted at him.
But what truly fueled the gossip was my hair color.
The Marquis had navy blue hair. The Marchioness had bright red hair. No one in either family line had my golden-brown hair.
The Marquis never addressed the rumors. He didn’t confirm them—but he didn’t deny them either. That silence only made the rumors spread like truth.
Those who disliked me would slyly bring up the gossip to mock me. Some were bold enough to sneer at me directly. And with my temper, of course I didn’t let that slide. I insulted them, sometimes even beat them. My reputation plummeted, but my pride couldn’t just let it go.
‘Am I really his daughter?’
It didn’t seem likely that the Marchioness, obsessed as she was, would cheat. But the Marquis and I shared no resemblance. Only the two of them knew the truth.
To get real answers, I’d have to ask the Marquis—assuming he would answer. I’d always been too afraid to find out. That fear made me even more sensitive to the rumors.
Bionne Rossa Elient.
This name was everything to me. Being the legitimate daughter of the Elient marquisate was my pride—my foundation.
“Should I go ask him now?”
“Pardon?”
The maids behind me looked confused. I ignored them and turned toward the hallway that led to the Marquis’s office.
Unlike the apathetic mistress and the indifferent master of the house, the hallway was tastefully elegant and richly decorated. I’d never paid attention to the interior before, but whoever managed it was clearly competent.
“Milady, that way is—”
Yes go shake his collar and ask him to confirm… what is wrong with that stone man