Episode 4.
“Is the protagonist buff already kicking in?”
As a test, I glared at him threateningly. I wanted to see just how effective this “protagonist buff” was.
*‘Would he still fall for me like this? Even like this?’*
But when he saw my fierce glare, his eyes widened—and then suddenly, *pfft*, he let out a small laugh.
An orphan glaring at a prince—and he laughs…?
*‘This buff is insanely strong!’*
In a rigid class society like this, wouldn’t you normally get your head chopped off for talking back to royalty?
At this rate, even if the heroine doesn’t do anything special, maybe the male lead would suddenly go, *“You’re the first person this interesting,”* and fall for her at first sight.
Like a sister version of *“You’re the first person who ever slapped me.”*
*‘If I act weird, will he still fall for me?’*
I got curious.
Just then, he slipped away from the adults he’d been talking with and approached me.
He apologized for laughing earlier.
“Hmm, hmm. My apologies. I didn’t mean to laugh just now.”
Well, you let me get away with glaring at you, didn’t you?
“It’s alright, Your Highness.”
“You’re Fredia, right? I saw you in the newspaper. Your dream is to become a painter?”
“It’s an honor that Your Highness recognizes me.”
Heraise’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked at me. If I left him alone, he’d probably start asking all sorts of questions, so I quickly hijacked the conversation.
“Your Highness, if it’s not rude, there’s something I really want to tell you.”
“What is it?”
I was nervous, wondering how he’d react to my nonsense. *Thump, thump.*
“I looked in the mirror today, and my hair looked yellow. It looks yellow, right? Do you know why?”
Heraise’s face filled with confusion. Without changing my expression, I spoke in a calm voice.
“Because I’m blonde.”
“…?”
“It’s yellow because I’m blonde.”
“……”
His expression grew serious, as if he were trying to find some hidden meaning in my words.
I bit my lips tightly. I felt like I was about to burst out laughing.
*‘H-hold it in! I might get executed for messing with royalty!’*
Still, would they really execute a kid just for wordplay?
*‘I’m only fourteen, and the first prince is supposed to be kind in the novel. I’ll be fine. I’ve got nine lives.’*
Barely holding back my laughter, I prepared a second round of nonsense while he was still thinking.
“Your Highness, did you have breakfast? I had bread and soup this morning…”
I started elegantly, and he seemed to be trying to connect what I’d just said with what I said before.
“It was delicious.”
Yeah, sorry. There’s no connection.
“……”
“It was really good.”
He frowned.
I bit my lip again.
*‘How weird must I look? This is fun.’*
To stop myself from laughing, I lowered my gaze and tried to think of something sad.
*‘Unpaid part-time wages… moldy wallpaper in my rented room…’*
But suddenly, a genuinely depressing thought crossed my mind.
*‘What if this goes wrong and Heraise thinks, “I have no interest in such a weird girl!” and I end up as a maid in that pedophile Hamel’s house…?’*
A chill ran down my spine.
*‘N-no. Let’s not act like I have nothing to lose.’*
I glanced at Heraise. His brow was still furrowed.
*‘So the buff only worked up to the glaring part… What do I do? I overdid it.’*
I hurriedly tried to switch tactics and apologize—saying it was an honor to meet him, that I only joked to make him laugh, and that I was sorry it didn’t work—
But just as I was panicking, he glanced at me—and burst out laughing again.
“Haha, you’re really interesting, aren’t you?”
He shook with laughter, then said to me, still dazed from his sudden reaction:
“Sorry. I tried not to laugh, but you’re just too funny.”
“……”
Wow. That buff is no joke.
—
Gaining favor from someone destined to fall for me was ridiculously easy.
Heraise enjoyed everything I said, acting as if we were the only two people there—just like in the original story when he met the heroine.
The original heroine, who had suffered in the orphanage and been ostracized in an unfamiliar world, fell for his kindness instantly.
But I was different.
“That kid was seriously weird…”
I tried acting weird, only to realize that *Heraise* was the weirder one.
Anyway, thanks to his obvious interest in me, the adoption process seemed to be going smoothly.
Just like in the original story, a photo of Heraise and me smiling brightly together was published in the *Imperial Gazette*.
After seeing that, the Duke of Weiss—my future adoptive father—would soon come to find me.
—
A few days later, a carriage finally appeared at the orphanage entrance.
The director warmly welcomed the visitor, spoke with them briefly in her office, and then saw them off with a complicated expression.
*‘They’re here!’*
I instinctively knew someone sent by the duke had come.
They were probably here to ask about me—my background, whether anything was known about my parents. After all, I could have been a spare child from some noble family.
Soon, the director returned after seeing the carriage off and climbed the stairs where I was sweeping.
“Fredia! Where are you, Fredia?”
Her voice was unusually gentle.
“Yes, Director! I’m here!”
I wasn’t tired, but I deliberately made my voice sound exhausted.
She hurried over, took the broom from me, and smiled kindly.
“You’ve worked hard. It must have been tough, right? Stop this and go pack your things. We had no spare beds, so you had to use the attic, but now Marian and Jane want to share a bed, so there’s room for you.”
Poor Marian and Jane.
Knowing exactly what she was up to, I feigned innocence.
“But Director, didn’t you say that old, cold room suited me best? How could I dare use a room downstairs?”
“Oh my, when did I ever say that? If someone heard you, they’d think it was true.”
She laughed awkwardly.
“But all the other children know you said that. You always said it in front of everyone.”
Normally, she would’ve beaten me for talking back, but she took a deep breath and forced a smile.
“Hoho, Fredia, hurry and pack your things.”
Her attempt to change the subject was so obvious that I kept going, lamenting:
“All my belongings are just discarded trash from other kids. If I move them to a new room, it’ll look messy.”
She flinched.
“I-is that so? I haven’t taken good care of you. I’m sorry, Fredia. If you need anything, just tell me. I’ll get it for you.”
“Really? Then I want pretty new clothes.”
“Uh… what?”
She looked flustered at my bold request.
I stood firm.
“Pretty clothes! With lots of lace! And nice buttons!”
A vein popped slightly on her forehead, but she forced a smile.
“Well… don’t you already have a dress that the other children envy?”
Oh, that dress? The one I wear to smile brightly and beg in front of nobles?
The one patched over and over, extended layer by layer, worn for five years?
The one I have to be careful not to ruin—and return immediately after?
Seriously.
I smirked at her and said coolly:
“I was just saying. It’s not like you’d treat me that well anyway.”
“Fredia! What’s gotten into you today? Stop talking nonsense and go pack your things!”
She gritted her teeth, clearly holding back.
Right before she exploded, I slumped my shoulders and pretended to cry.
“Hmph! I hate you, Director! I’m the only one without pretty clothes!”
Then I ran upstairs into the attic.
She probably thought I’d gone crazy.
But my madness was only just beginning.
—
Until the duke came to take me, the more the director tried to treat me well, the more I nitpicked and acted spoiled.
“This room is too cold.”
“Now it’s too hot.”
“The blanket is damp.”
“The meat is overcooked—could you make it medium-rare instead?”
She looked like she was about to snap every time, but she endured it.
She had no choice—once the duke decided to adopt me, I was practically part of his household already.
I made sure to be as annoying as possible right next to her.
*‘When a caregiver suddenly changes their attitude, it confuses the child. This is child abuse. Child abuse!’*
I’m just a poor child who suffered verbal and physical abuse, now confused by sudden kindness and acting out without realizing it. It’s not the child’s fault!
*‘Serves you right.’*
Thinking of all the times she took out her anger on me, mocked me in front of others, and treated me unfairly—this revenge was still far from enough.
She probably realized I’d figured out my adoption and grown arrogant—but what could she do? It was true!
In the end, I even managed to squeeze out a fancy dress with pretty buttons and lots of lace from her.
And around that time, the Duke of Weiss finally arrived at the orphanage.
