“Kristan Pandeon.”
“……”
“When you see someone, at least greet them. That’s basic manners.”
“—Since when have you cared about my manners?”
At her scolding, the boy paused briefly but didn’t look remorseful. Instead, he turned to look at her with a flat, emotionless gaze far too mature for his age. Then, as if pitying her, he said:
“Don’t waste your energy on a battle you can’t win. You’re only causing trouble for the family.”
Even though she hadn’t told him to leave, Kristan walked away on his own. Caria watched the child’s retreating figure and let out a bitter laugh.
“Truly, just like his father.”
In a way, that was a relief. It confirmed to Caria that the children didn’t need her. Any sense of responsibility she once had as a stepmother had now been wiped away by his firm rejection.
Once things fell apart between her and the Duke, she would have no ties to the children. When that time came, she would tuck them away in a distant memory as rude children she once knew.
Letting go of the boy and girl she once thought of as the only children in her life wasn’t so difficult. After all, Caria had never truly been a mother to them.
—
—
“Are you sure these are all of my clothes?”
“Y-yes, Madam. I manage the dressing room, so I know. Everything from here to here belongs to you.”
The maid was startled when the Duchess and her attendants suddenly burst in while she was working as usual.
She had heard from others, but the Duchess’s demeanor was completely different than before.
Some called the Duchess a monster for imprisoning the Dowager, claiming she was just a puppet pretending to be important. They said it wouldn’t last. But to this maid, it felt real.
That sharp gaze, commanding attitude, and swift actions — it all felt too natural to be an act of false bravado.
“Did anyone visit ‘Tailor Marin’ last month for winter clothes?”
“Y-yes… We had winter clothes made for Lady Lamia and the Dowager.”
“And the month before, at ‘Haute Boutique’?”
“That would be two months ago. His Grace and Young Master Kristan had clothing made there. Oh, and the Dowager had a fan, hat, and shoes custom-made too.”
Though it was time to sort through freshly laundered garments, the maid chose not to speak unnecessarily. Instead, she answered truthfully, leaving no detail out — she didn’t want to get caught for anything.
She had nothing to hide, nor had she done anything to feel guilty about. Ever since the previous maid had been caught stealing jewels from dresses and got thrown out after a beating, she’d been extra cautious.
Still, even after she finished speaking, Caria stared at her for a long time.
“Um… Is something wrong?”
“No. If everything you said is true, then you have nothing to worry about. However…”
“Y-yes?”
That was not a good opening. The maid swallowed hard, nerves creeping in. She racked her brain for anything she might’ve done wrong but came up blank.
As her face drained of color, Caria suddenly chuckled with a soft snort.
“The Dowager is ‘Madam,’ but I’m the Duchess, right?”
“E-excuse me? I—”
“Who’s the real mistress of this house, I wonder?”
She said it like a joke, but the maid felt like she was about to die of fear. Why bring that up now when she had never mentioned it before?
Calling only the Dowager “Madam” and not the Duchess had become a silent protest among the servants — a sign that they didn’t accept Caria as the lady of the house.
It had started three years ago, when Caria returned to the estate, and no one had corrected them since. It had become habit.
The maid briefly considered dropping to her knees and begging for forgiveness. But at that very moment, a powerful figure stormed in to interrupt the tense conversation.
“Hey!”
It was Lady Lamia. From afar, she had spotted Caria and now shouted at the top of her lungs.
Caria frowned at the loud interruption, and Lamia began screaming with a booming voice that didn’t match her tiny body.
“Are you insane?! Who do you think you are, locking up Grandmother?! What did she do wrong?! Let her out right now! And apologize on your knees!”
“My lady! Please, calm down!”
A middle-aged maid, Lamia’s nanny, rushed in to restrain the girl. This nanny had always used the Dowager’s authority to influence the children and instill a negative view of Caria.
“I apologize, Duchess! The young lady was simply shocked to see her grandmother treated that way. She’s just very fond of her… Please forgive her.”
“Why are you bowing, nanny?! She’s the one in the wrong! Give us back our grandmother!”
As a servant, the nanny couldn’t openly defy Caria, but behind the scenes, she would gossip and spread ill words.
She had convinced the children that it was only natural for the Duchess to dislike them because she wasn’t their birth mother, and even implied that Caria’s low birth made her unworthy of their company.
Even now, she pretended to bow while subtly painting herself as the victim in front of Lamia. The young girl, believing her beloved nanny had been mistreated, became even more furious.
After watching this quietly, Caria finally spoke when the child settled a bit.
“So, you’re the girl’s nanny, correct?”
“Y-yes, Duchess.”
Without hesitation, Caria slapped the nanny across the face. A loud smack rang out as the woman fell to the floor.
“Ouch! Oww!”
“Are you okay, nanny?!”
“What exactly did you say to make the girl so confused and hysterical? The Pandeon household doesn’t pay you to ruin a child’s temperament!”
Seeing her nanny cry with a bright red cheek, Lamia lost her mind and rushed toward Caria, throwing wild punches at her skirt. Her tiny fists kicked up clouds of dust.
She looked as though she was trying to avenge the nanny, but to Caria, it was pathetic. She calmly pushed Lamia’s forehead with her palm, and with her short limbs, the child flailed helplessly.
“Why did you hit her?! Who are you to hit our nanny?!”
“Who am I? You know this already. I’m the Duchess of Pandeon and the mistress of this house. What’s wrong with a superior disciplining a subordinate?”
“If it’s discipline, why hit her?! Is she an animal?! You could’ve just talked to her!”
Lamia screamed until the hallway echoed. Her face flushed red as she panted in rage. Caria wiped the smile from her face and withdrew her hand. Lamia, who had been resisting with all her strength, lost her balance and fell backward.
“I’m surprised you know that much. Then go tell your grandmother everything you just said.”
“Hey!”
“Don’t shout. It’s deafening.”
Caria looked coldly at the girl sitting on the carpeted floor. There was no way she was hurt, but Lamia, unable to control her frustration, welled up with tears.
“Keep that reckless mouth shut and think, Lamia. Do you think this tantrum of yours is helping the situation?”
Being lenient just because a child is young isn’t always the right answer. Treating them that way had already turned a seven-year-old into a little demon.
And with this spoiled brat, Caria felt no affection left to give. She had already decided to separate from the Duke, and she had no intention of pleasing anyone in the house anymore.
“The Dowager dared to lay hands on a member of the royal family — a grave offense. She is in her room reflecting on her actions. I’ll release her once she’s truly remorseful, so don’t worry.”
“Who laid hands on whose face?”
Just then, a low, cold voice interrupted her words. The question didn’t come from Lamia.
Heavy footsteps approached from behind. The deep, resonant voice shook the floor — a voice she hadn’t heard in a long time but hadn’t forgotten.
Caria slowly turned around toward the source, and behind her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man towering over her.
“Did I just hear something unbelievable? Who hit whom?”
“—Alcard.”
His once pale skin was now sun-tanned, but the short blonde hair left no doubt of his identity. Why had he come now, after never showing up all this time?
“Wow, getting older and not even calling me ‘sister’ anymore… Are you picking a fight?”
Alcard Lutherbert.
Second son of the Grand Duke. Captain of the Royal Knights.
And Caria’s half-brother.
‘You, what are you doing here?’
That was likely when Caria was around six or seven — just after she had arrived at the Grand Duke’s estate.
Alcard had been returning from sword training in the garden and heard a noise from the kitchen. When he went
to check, he found Caria there.
A scrawny little girl was eating hardened, cold bread alone in the dark.
