“Reina, guess what.”
“Yes?”
“I just found my favorite food.”
Estelle said this with the look of a child in love, and Reina laughed because it was so adorable.
“What is it?”
“…Come closer.”
She must have been embarrassed to say it out loud. When Reina leaned close, Estelle whispered softly:
“Pudding and cocoa.”
Then she muttered in worry, wondering if liking only sweets made her sound spoiled. What if Father finds out and dislikes me?
Reina almost laughed at her cute little worry but held it back. What seems small to an adult can be a very big problem for a child.
“Don’t worry. The master could buy ten years’ worth of cocoa for everyone in this mansion without any trouble.”
“…Pudding too?”
“Yes, pudding too.”
Finally Estelle looked relieved.
“I also make cocoa for my daughter every week. Do you think the duke couldn’t buy you one cup of cocoa?”
Of course, before working here, even a meal was hard to come by, let alone cocoa. But Reina didn’t share such heavy stories with a child.
Estelle blinked.
“Daughter?”
“Yes. She’s about your age. Her name is Bonita. She has pink hair like mine and light purple eyes. And…”
Once someone showed interest in Bonita, Reina couldn’t help but smile warmly and speak about her child in detail. Estelle watched and then laughed.
“Do you think Bonita likes cocoa too?”
“Of course.”
“Then… can I give her mine?”
Estelle looked regretfully at the warm cocoa in her hands. Reina smiled gently.
“That’s your cocoa, my lady. Please drink it.”
“Then…”
Estelle glanced at the table, then carefully pulled the cookie plate closer. She wrapped a bunch of cookies in a handkerchief decorated with forsythia, making a little bundle.
“Here, give this to Bonita.”
“Oh my…”
In Estelle’s small hands, it looked huge. But when Reina held it, the bundle was tiny and cute.
Reina thought of how Estelle was even smaller than Bonita, and Bonita herself was smaller than most children her age. Estelle had eaten much these days, but she was still too thin.
Reina’s heart ached as she looked at her. Just as others saw Bonita and treated her kindly because she reminded them of Estelle, Reina often saw Bonita in Estelle.
She forced a gentle smile.
“Bonita will be so happy.”
Why did such a lovely child have to be torn from her family and live in loneliness?
If this was Heaven’s will, Reina thought bitterly, then God had no mercy.
“Reina, you must really love Bonita.”
“…Do I?”
“Yes. A lot, a lot.”
Reina blushed and touched her lips shyly. Estelle hugged her tightly.
“I want to meet her too…”
The duke had already told Reina that anything Estelle wanted would be allowed, as long as it wasn’t dangerous. Her daughter certainly wasn’t dangerous.
“Then I’ll ask Bonita.”
“Bonita, would you like to meet Lady Estelle?”
“…Huh?”
Bonita was a very mature child. She always looked after herself so her mother didn’t have to worry.
That evening, as usual, she waited patiently by the door with a chair, holding two cookies a maid had given her, and a lantern lit. When Reina came home, Bonita handed her a larger cookie and listened to her proposal with a puzzled face.
“The master has already given permission. If you want to meet her, you can.”
“But…”
Bonita clutched her cookie nervously, then whispered:
“Am I… allowed?”
“What do you mean?”
“Estelle is so, so precious. Not like me. What if I make a mistake and cause you trouble?”
Bonita had heard often why her mother was so busy—working to care for Estelle.
“Bonita…”
Estelle was indeed precious, but Bonita’s words stung Reina.
“You’re just as precious.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Mommy lives on because of you.”
Bonita hesitated, then hugged her tightly, careful not to drop cookie crumbs.
“…I want to meet her.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Reina was glad. She had wanted Bonita to meet a friend her own age, since she only ever met adults.
“Then should we wear your prettiest dress?”
“I want my green one-piece dress!”
“That one might be too small now, you’ve grown so much lately.”
“But I like that one.”
“It might not fit…”
“It’s the prettiest one.”
That green dress was the first one Reina had bought with her wages from the duke’s mansion. She remembered their first holiday outing—buying clothes, food, and even candy for Bonita. Bonita had been overwhelmed then, unused to luxuries.
Though there were fancier dresses, Bonita had chosen the simple green dress with a small lace trim and a yellow ribbon. Reina had bought it a little big so she could grow into it.
“Hmm… Shall we try it on?”
“Yes!”
Bonita fetched the dress from the closet. Reina had cared for it so well, it was spotless. She helped Bonita change into it.
“It’s a little small now…”
Her daughter had grown a lot in the past year.
“Shall we buy a new one?”
“No, I’m fine!”
“But winter is coming. You’ll need new clothes anyway.”
“I don’t need one now. This is for spring and autumn anyway, right? If I grow in winter, it won’t matter. I’ll just wear this one.”
“…Really?”
“Yes!”
Seeing her daughter’s relief, Reina gave in.
“Alright. You’re smarter than Mommy, so you must be right.”
“Hehe.”
Bonita carefully folded the dress afterward and changed back into pajamas, snacking on cookies before curling up with her mother.
“Bonita, since you ate, brush your teeth first.”
“I’m just being lazy a little.”
“Lazy, hmm?”
“Yeah! Being lazy sometimes makes life better. Like oil for the wheels.”
“Where did you learn such words?”
“Hehe.”
Reina laughed, knowing she was just sleepy. Soon Bonita drifted off, and Reina blew out the lantern.
It was a mild night.
The very next day, the meeting was arranged. The duke’s mansion moved quickly—of course they would, since their only young lady wished it.
Estelle waited nervously in a fancy room prepared for children. When Reina and Bonita arrived, she jumped up.
“Hi! I’m Estelle Winternight.”
“…Ah.”
Bonita hadn’t expected such friendliness. She froze, then curtsied politely.
“My name is Bonita. Pleased to meet you.”
Estelle blinked. She hadn’t expected such formality.
“Um… you don’t have to be so formal.”
She just wanted a playmate. Everyone else here was an adult who treated her with stiff politeness.
Reina noticed what no one else did—that Estelle felt uneasy under such constant, heavy kindness.
Reina gently patted Bonita’s shoulder. Bonita caught her meaning, and soon dropped the stiff manners, smiling more naturally.
“But please allow me to use polite words. You are precious here.”
“…Okay. That’s fine.”
Seeing her smile like a child again, Estelle smiled brightly too. She grabbed Bonita’s hand and pulled her to sit.
“Do you like this?”
“Wow…”
On the table were colorful macarons, candied cherries, cream, bite-sized pancakes with cheese and syrup, citrus tarts, cookies, pudding, and drinks.
The kitchen staff had clearly prepared carefully for this meeting.
Bonita’s eyes sparkled, though normally she preferred meals to sweets. Reina’s heart pounded seeing her so excited.
“This is my favorite.”
Estelle offered a pudding. Bonita tasted it, cheeks reddening at the silky vanilla flavor.
“There’s more. Let’s share.”
“Um…”
Bonita glanced at her mother.
“I… can’t eat too many sweets. Please eat more for me.”
“…Really?” Estelle pouted.
“Then what about cookies? The chef said these aren’t too sweet.”
“That’s fine!”
Bonita smiled, nibbling a plain cookie.
Reina’s chest hurt.
No matter how much they ate, the desserts never seemed to decrease. Estelle kept laughing happily, clearly fond of Bonita.
“Bonita’s eyes—are they from your father?” Estelle asked curiously.
Reina stiffened.
“I was told I look just like my mother. If only I had something from Father… people might see me as more of his family.”
She fiddled with her white hair sadly.
“…Yes,” Bonita answered vaguely.
Reina quickly smoothed her expression.
Bonita added quietly:
“My… my father died in an accident, around the time I was born. That’s what Mother told me.”
“…!”
Estelle gasped, covering her mouth.
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know…”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, my lady. It was long ago.”
Reina remembered telling Bonita this lie, afraid the truth would hurt her.
Still, Estelle began to cry, blaming herself. Both Reina and Bonita hurried to comfort her.
After she calmed, she hugged both tightly. Though she could command anyone, Estelle still feared being hated, still feared being left alone.
When it was time to go, Estelle asked shyly:
“Bonita… can I call you Boni too?”
“…Yes!” Bonita blushed deeply.
Estelle squealed happily and ran off, returning with a bracelet.
“We’re friends now! This is a friendship bracelet. Kids used to wear these where I lived.”
“It’s pretty…” Bonita said.
The bracelet sparkled with colorful gems. Estelle explained that she thought adding shiny stones made it better. She believed the maids when they told her they were fake.
Bonita believed her too. Only Reina knew how expensive it really was.
“Boni, let’s go home.”
“Yes!”
“Thank you for the gift, my lady. Please sleep well tonight.”
“See you tomorrow, Reina.”
Reina was glad she could hide her emotions. Otherwise she would have looked like a greedy adult—because the bracelet Estelle had given so casually was worth more than Bonita’s cherished green dress many times over.
That day seemed like any other. Helping Estelle eat, playing with her, enjoying the nice weather.
But then Estelle suddenly pushed her.
“Reina, today I’ll play alone. You should go home early!”
“…What?”
“Hurry!”
She insisted she would play with the other maids.
Reina realized Estelle must have noticed her distracted mood. So she returned early to the servants’ quarters, where Bonita usually waited.
But when she opened the door, the room was silent. Too silent.
“…Bonita?”
No answer.
Searching frantically, she found only a white envelope on the bed.
Her heart pounded. She opened it. Inside were simple, terrifying words:
[If you want to save your daughter, kidnap Estelle Winternight.]
The deadline was tonight. If she told anyone, Bonita would be killed.
Reina collapsed, pale.
“…Estelle…”
She had to choose. To save Bonita, she must betray Estelle.
At that moment, pain shot through her head—the same pain she’d felt four years ago, when she first became Reina. Memories flooded in: Estelle begging, the duke finding her, Reina serving her…
And then—
[A scene where the duke kills a maid who betrayed him.]
Reina trembled. This is a novel. I’m just part of it.
In the story, Reina was supposed to kidnap Estelle, beg for mercy, and be killed. Bonita’s fate was never even mentioned.
“Bonita…”
Reina wept bitterly. Her daughter was her treasure, her spring, her star. But in this empire, she was nothing. Not like Estelle, who was everyone’s treasure.
Still, Reina had no choice. To save her child, she must betray Estelle.
Shaking, she clutched the letter and forced herself toward the main mansion.
At least she knew, from the novel, who was behind it. That knowledge was the only card she could play.
Maybe—just maybe—the duke would save Bonita if she offered him that.
“My lord, Reina Borton wishes to see you.”
“….”
Damian Winternight remembered her. That desperate winter night when she had begged for her child’s life at his gates. He had wanted to cast her away, but something about her reminded him of his lost wife. Or perhaps it was simply that her daughter was the same age his own child would have been.
That was why he had given her work, and a place to stay with her daughter.
And now, a year later, Estelle had returned, and again Reina’s name was in his mind.
“Let her in.”
The duke dropped his quill. The door opened, and Reina entered. Her faint presence did not suit her name.
“There are people plotting to kidnap Lady Estelle.”
“…Who?”
The moment Estelle’s name left her lips, the duke’s voice rumbled with fury. Reina turned pale and clasped her hands tightly.
“Finally, fools begging for death have appeared.”
He rose, radiating menace. Reina trembled but forced herself to speak.
“I… I can help catch the culprit.”
“….”
It was laughable—who was helping whom? Yet he looked at her with cold blue eyes, silent.
“Yes… I have a letter.”
She pulled out the note.
“This is the threat I received. They ordered me to kidnap Lady Estelle.”
“…!”
The duke reached out, but Reina instinctively hid it behind her.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s… make a deal.”
His eyes blazed with anger, but Reina stood firm.
“…What do you want?”
He expected the usual—gold, land, property. What others had always demanded in exchange for news of Estelle.
But her answer stunned him.
“My daughter…”
“….”
“Please save my daughter.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She clutched the letter as if it were her lifeline.
“I’ll accept any punishment. I know it’s a sin to even think of trading the young lady’s life, but please… save my child.”
She felt like a terrible person. But what else could she do?
The duke studied her in silence.
Reina forced herself to keep talking.
“This letter can give you clues. I used to work in a paper workshop. I can tell which trade company sold this stationary. From there, we can trace the buyer…”
Her reasoning flowed quickly. She never knew she could lie so smoothly.
The duke listened, then asked:
“…So this paper is rare?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
She explained how the mixture of scent, feel, and texture differed slightly for each supplier. It could narrow down the suspect.
Reina trembled, unsure if he believed her.
At last, the duke spoke:
“When you make a deal…”
“…?”
“…you should never hand over your only card first.”
“…”
“And…”
He trailed off, frowning, muttering almost to himself:
“…What kind of man do you take me for?”
“…?”
Reina didn’t understand. Before she could ask, he had already turned and pulled a red cord in the corner.
Moments later, the captain of the knights entered in full uniform.
“You called, my lord?”
“Yes.”
