TCBUP 02

2. Siena’s Circumstances

Crazy woman…

Yeah, anyone would think so. Crying, laughing, getting angry, becoming serious all by herself—it was chaos.

But still, saying that right to someone’s face is incredibly rude.

Overwhelmed, I suddenly stood up.

Even when I looked up at him while sitting, my neck had to tilt all the way back. Standing up, I realized I was even taller than Damian.

“Why are you acknowledging a crazy woman? Trying to get yourself in trouble?”

“You’re the one who spoke to me first.”

“…”

Right. That’s true.

But normally, people just avoid me, don’t they?

They don’t actually go out of their way to talk. Or they at least pretend not to notice and step aside out of courtesy, out of sympathy, or something like that.

‘Why am I even thinking about this? I should just get going.’

I gathered what little composure I had left and turned away from him with a prim and proper demeanor.

As I brushed off the dirt that clung to my dress from sitting on the ground, I deliberately ignored his gaze.

Don’t talk to me. Don’t act like you know me.

Maybe he noticed the aura of protest I was giving off, because although he stared at me, he didn’t say another word.

After straightening out my dress, I briskly walked back to the carriage as if nothing had happened.

The coachman opened the door for me without comment, though his awkward expression and averted gaze said otherwise.

It was clear he had witnessed my disgrace.

As always, I pretended not to notice and quietly climbed into the carriage.

As soon as I arrived at the Hagrives’ estate and stepped out of the carriage, the butler grabbed me and dragged me to the drawing room.

Pushed through the door, I found Count Hagrives sitting with arms crossed and a red face from trying to suppress his anger.

Beside him, the Countess held her pale face in her hands, sighing deeply.

I slowly approached and crouched in front of the Hagrives couple, resting my hands on my knees like a sinner.

‘Has the rumor already spread?’

Well, I did cause a scene in the middle of the street. Of course, it spread quickly.

In times like this…

“I’m sorry.”

Groveling was the best strategy.

I couldn’t even lift my head, but I heard the Count’s scoffing laughter.

“Sorry, huh? You say it so often it’s like a habit now.”

Despite holding the back of his neck as if his blood pressure was spiking, his sneers and scolding didn’t stop.

Are you insane, who did you take after, is throwing tantrums the only thing you’re good at, try being even half like your brother, etc., etc.

And then, like always, he ended with the same line:

“Do you even realize how far out of your league the engagement with Duke Ortiz is?”

Of course I do. I’ve heard it so many times my ears could bleed.

And then, like clockwork, the Count recited the background of the engagement as if it were some kind of classic repertoire.

The ancient and prestigious Ortiz duchy and the nouveau riche Hagrives family were never supposed to mix.

But Damian and Siena were bound by an engagement thanks to Damian’s grandfather.

He had been gullible and indecisive, failing at every business venture he tried and becoming the reason Ortiz’s proud name began to crumble.

When they were finally about to be cast out onto the streets, Siena’s grandfather—the previous Count—lent them money, but only on the condition that their grandchildren be betrothed.

If they paid back the loan with interest, the engagement could be canceled. But Damian’s father, the late Duke, was also a wanderer with no concept of money.

So the debt remained, and the engagement stood. The burden was passed down to Damian.

And Damian, unexpectedly, turned out to be quite capable.

There were rumors that his recent business ventures were doing well, and that most of the debts—except those owed to the Hagrives—were paid off.

“If you have a brain, you should try using it! Unless you want to be dumped!”

Worried that Damian might repay the debt and cancel the engagement, Count Hagrives had been losing his mind lately.

He yelled that I should be trying to impress him, not throwing tantrums, and if I had to cause a scene, at least do it sneakily and with some finesse.

“Ugh! I’m the only one tearing my hair out over this! When will you finally realize how hopeless you are?!”

Another line I heard all the time.

The Count would praise Siena’s looks, claiming she got them from him (nonsense), but always insisted she was nowhere near Damian in every other aspect.

She had no special talents, no brilliance, no athletic skills.

Siena’s only use was to become the Duchess of Ortiz.

“Where on earth did this kind of defective child even come from?”

Count Hagrives pounded his chest in frustration.

But I felt a little unfairly judged.

If this marriage is just about politics and playing the role of a noble housewife, then why does one need special skills, brains, or athleticism?

You could just hire people with those things and manage them.

So Siena wasn’t entirely useless.

At least, that’s what I believed.

‘And if it’s already like this now, what will happen if we do break off the engagement…?’

It was unfair, but thinking about the future made me feel even more hopeless.

After the broken engagement episode, Siena disappears without a trace and never appears again. I wouldn’t know if she came back later in the game—I got pulled into the game before finishing it.

But I can guarantee her ending wouldn’t have been a happy one.

“What are you doing just sitting there? Get back to your room, now!”

Startled by my father’s loud outburst, I slowly stood up.

If I tried to explain myself, he’d say I talk too much. If I stayed quiet, he’d accuse me of being defiant.

So it was best to just vanish from his sight.

Though I was full of complaints inside, I outwardly drooped and shuffled out of the room.

“Young Lady, are you alright?”

The only one in this house who ever took my side—Mary—approached with a worried look.

She had stiff ash-gray hair tied into two braids, and charming freckles on her cheeks. She was a maid around my age.

“You’re going to write a letter of apology to the Duke, right?”

She asked while pulling out stationery from the desk.

It was a natural assumption—because I always did that—but I shook my head.

“No. This time, I’m not doing anything. It’s useless anyway.”

“Oh… okay…”

Surprised, Mary carefully put the stationery back into the drawer.

I glanced at the pink-scented, frilly paper as it disappeared and sighed.

‘That cutesy letter paper with perfume… Really doesn’t match Damian at all.’

Damian, who had carried the weight of his household from a young age, wanted a partner who could walk beside him.

Not a childlike woman who needed everything done for her, but someone who could think, decide, and act with him—who could even shoulder the Ortiz family if he fell.

Of course, Siena had worked hard to match his ideal.

But Damian’s standards were simply too high.

‘Besides, he’s never liked the Hagrives family anyway.’

Maybe because of the debt that started with his grandfather, Damian always felt uncomfortable around our family.

He was far from extravagant or vain and preferred elegance and restraint.

Meanwhile, Count Hagrives lived by the motto “Why not, if you can afford it?”—constantly flaunting his wealth, which was completely contrary to Damian’s values as a “true noble.”

‘I think people are happier marrying someone more compatible. Honestly, with this kind of face, it’s not like I’d have trouble finding someone else.’

I held up a hand mirror and examined Siena’s—no, my—face.

Pale pink hair and deep pink eyes, and skin as white as snow.

Rosy cheeks and plump, pink-tinted lips.

The only issue was that her timid demeanor dulled her beauty.

‘When you’re treated like a burden even at home, how could your confidence possibly survive?’

I sighed and set down the mirror.

Mary, who had been sneaking glances at me, cautiously pulled out the stationery again.

“You really should apologize to the Duke, right?”

“Huh?”

“Whenever you apologize, he always accepts it. Don’t worry too much.”

She took out a fluffy feather pen and dipped it into the inkwell, deliberately smiling cheerfully.

Mary must’ve misunderstood, thinking I was sighing because I was afraid Damian wouldn’t forgive me this time.

“As you know, the Duke is a man of principle. There’s no way someone like him would ever look at another woman while engaged. If you just apologize and tell him it was a misunderstanding, everything will be fine.”

Given Damian’s usual behavior, it was only natural for her to think that.

But the “ding-dong” sound that rang out—and the status window that followed—told a different story.