SMTD 02

Chapter 2 …

As the carriage carrying Maxim crossed the last gateway into the Lebunto region—the Kress Bridge—Elena, who had run away from home, was wandering nearby. A scab had formed on her lip, and her tear-swollen face was enough to stir pity in anyone.

Maxim glanced indifferently at Elena through the carriage window. It should have been just a passing look, but for some reason, the sight of the woman caught his attention.

Her hair was a tangled mess, completely mismatched with the fine fabric of her dress. Judging by the worn hem and the outdated style, the dress seemed old.

Running a department store had made Maxim quite discerning; he prided himself on being able to appraise the value of anything at a glance. From her appearance, he guessed she was likely the daughter of a noble family whose fortunes had declined. Maxim let out a short, dry laugh.

Just whose precious daughter was out wandering the streets in such a state, at this late hour? He could easily imagine the kind of family that would send their daughter out looking like that. He clicked his tongue shortly and drew the curtain over the window.

A person’s worth or dignity isn’t determined by the clothes they wear.

But the disheveled appearance of that woman revealed the lack of dignity of her household. There was nothing good to come from getting involved with such a family. Maxim withdrew his attention from the outside and closed his eyes.

Elena had been lingering in front of Kress Bridge for quite some time. Her heart was pounding. Crossing this bridge would mean stepping outside the Lebunto region for the first time since she had settled here.

Lebunto was like a birdcage that trapped her. Whenever the suffocating feeling became unbearable, Elena would find herself wandering to this spot. Each time her toes brushed the edge of the Kress Bridge, a wave of guilt crashed over her—guilt for abandoning her younger sister and mother.

She stared blankly across the bridge. This place was like a boundary line for her—a limit she could never cross.

She blinked. A light in the distance grew closer. For a fleeting moment, she thought she had made eye contact with a man inside a grand carriage that passed by. His face, hidden in the darkness, was indistinct.

The carriage carrying the man gradually disappeared into the distance.

Who could have been riding in that carriage? Recently, many luxurious carriages had been entering Lebunto, likely because of some event taking place. The sudden stir in this isolated region had also stirred her mother’s heart.

But it was all meaningless excitement. Today’s commotion had also been because of that event. Some magnanimous noblewoman had apparently invited every noble in the Lebunto region.

Cecile believed she could marry Elena off to a man from a good family. On what grounds she believed that, Elena didn’t know.

[“Don’t you think it’s a waste of your looks? I gave you the best—so you should know how to use it well! At the very least, you can marry into a count’s family.”]

Looks? Appearance was not among the virtues required to run a noble household. Modest adornment was enough to maintain respectability.

Even as Cecile entertained shameless thoughts of selling off her daughter, she didn’t understand why it was disgraceful.

[“We’re not real nobles! We can’t even afford a new dress. That’s what being a noble means—you need money for that! I’m offering you the chance to live a true noble life, so just do as I say.”]

Was that really what being a noble was? Cecile equated nobility solely with luxury and indulgence. Elena never complained about wearing Cecile’s old maiden dress, altered to fit her. In fact, Cecile was the one who despised it, calling it miserably shabby.

[“Buy the best. If you don’t know what to buy, pick the most expensive. You just need to meet the richest, highest-status man you can. Understand?”]

Tears streamed down Elena’s bruised cheeks. Her head throbbed. If she returned home now, she would end up in another pointless argument with Cecile and ultimately be sent off as a second wife to some wealthy family, just as Cecile wanted.

Then again, Cecile had probably already gone out somewhere with the money she had taken from Elena. Time was never an obstacle for Cecile—if necessary, she would grab a street vendor by the collar in the middle of the night to get what she wanted.

One way or another, Cecile was obsessed with the idea of “selling Elena for the highest price.”

Elena’s bloodied lips trembled. If only she could escape this place. If only she could cross this bridge and run away.

Her expression darkened.

People found it easy to cross that bridge. Even the carriage that had just passed her had done so without a thought. But for Elena, crossing the bridge was the hardest thing in the world.

To cross it meant leaving behind everything she was responsible for. The image of Lea—her little sister—flickered before her eyes.

Elena was the only one who could hold that tiny hand. She swallowed a tearful sigh.

She couldn’t abandon Lea and run away alone. Cecile had deemed Lea a child who couldn’t make money—a burden that only consumed resources. She would never buy Lea’s medicine.

Hadn’t Cecile even snatched away Lea’s medicine money earlier today?

Elena gave a sorrowful smile. The street lamps on Kress Bridge flickered—it was time for them to light up.

Since electricity had been supplied to the Lebunto region, life had become safer and more comfortable. Street lamps were one of the signs of progress. The world was changing so quickly, but Cecile remained exactly the same.

The bridge illuminated by the lamps was bright. It was a magical moment.

“It’s beautiful…”

The lights shimmered like a gathering of fireflies, breathing life into the darkness. It was one of Elena’s favorite moments. The path seemed to welcome her.

It seemed to whisper, “Come with us, and we’ll promise you happiness.”

But even with the lights shining brightly, Elena couldn’t bring herself to walk down that path.

Tears dripped down her cheeks, one by one.

Thankfully, no one was around to witness her in this state. Elena held her breath and cried. With no one nearby, the dam holding back her tears broke completely.

“Huuuuuuuuhhhh…”

Her chest ached as if it would burst from sorrow. There were so many things Elena wanted to do—so many things she could do. She wanted to attend the academy. She wanted to learn. She loved writing. In remote Lebunto, few people could even read or write.

Her late father had taught her how to read and write, and she could help with translation work, but Elena’s world was small. She couldn’t even dare to dream.

What was the reason for her life continuing like this? She sobbed, gasping for breath.

As she glared at the bridge through tear-blurred eyes, a carriage approached from behind. She naturally assumed it would pass her and cross the Kress Bridge. But instead, it came to a stop behind her.

Startled, Elena turned around.

The carriage window slid down.

A pale, melancholy face appeared. It was a man she had never seen before—a gentleman with refined elegance. The crest engraved on the carriage gleamed under the lamplight. The man slowly blinked, resting his arm on the window frame and tilting his head slightly as he spoke.

“You’re going to get yourself into trouble like that.”

His voice carried a soft chill that blended with the night. Elena hurried to compose herself—only to realize too late that her appearance couldn’t be salvaged. She didn’t even have shoes on; she’d left them at home. The man gave a tired smile.

“All the men passing by are staring at you.”

Elena blinked.

“W–what does that have to do with you?”

Without realizing it, she answered sharply and stepped back. Talking to a man while looking like this embarrassed her belatedly. Her face flushed bright red as she lowered her head.

“It has nothing to do with me. But I saw you. And if your picture ends up in the paper tomorrow, I might feel an unnecessary sense of guilt. So instead of wasting time arguing, why don’t you just get in?”

Even as Maxim repeated the coachman’s words, he regretted it for a moment. His uncharacteristic meddling only made him more tired.

No matter how precarious the woman looked, no matter how leering the idle men were, or what nonsense the coachman spouted—none of it really had anything to do with him.