“…I thought Count Vicente was an old man?”
Edford murmured blankly, as if in a dream.
At this, Masera tilted his head with an unreadable expression.
“His debt was paid in exchange for his title. It’s a bit of an old story, does information travel slowly in the countryside?”
The rumor that Count Vicente was a debt-ridden elderly man was true.
But that was before he sold off the title.
* * *
The servants were bewildered how the ‘unlucky white rat’ had suddenly become the ‘Count’s daughter’ overnight.
“Is it true? Cynthia is the Count’s biological daughter?”
“You remember that drunkard who supposedly fell down the stairs and died a few years ago? Turns out he secretly kidnapped her because he wanted royal blood.”
“Then why bring her in as a maid?”
“They probably couldn’t afford to raise her. They must have planned to make her earn her keep until she was old enough to be sold off in marriage”
“…So, what happens to us now?”
The servants who had bullied Cynthia for so long were now filled with fear.
One servant puffed up and said with a smug look:
“She’ll probably just let it go. She’s foolishly kind, after all.”
“Right?”
A few of them headed to Cynthia’s room to help with her dressing.
They cautiously watched for her reaction, but Cynthia didn’t appear to be planning any revenge.
“Um… Cynth— I mean, Lady Cynthia. Please forgive our rudeness up until now.”
One servant, who still had a shred of conscience, bowed and asked for forgiveness.
Another maid poked her arm, as if asking why she was stirring things up.
“Whatever for?”
Cynthia turned around with a cheerful smile and asked.
The maid who had decided to apologize wiped away tears.
“Everything. For making you feel bad, for saying mean things… I’m really sorry.”
“Alright.”
After the simple answer, a suffocating silence flowed.
At some point, Cynthia had begun to emit an aura that made it difficult to treat her carelessly.
She, who had always been timid and on the verge of tears, began to smile brightly no matter what she heard. And if someone insulted her to an extreme degree, she would stare at them with a smiling face.
Without saying a word, following them around all day long.
It was around that time that the intensity of the bullying decreased. Everyone was starting to realize, little by little, that she was someone they shouldn’t mess with.
“This’ll be the first and last time I’m dressed up by you all, huh?”
After her dressing was done, Cynthia handed a small note to the only maid who had apologized.
“Should I look at it alone?”
After Cynthia left, the maid secretly unfolded the note.
「If you want to live, flee this estate the moment I’m gone.」
* * *
“Come now, Cynthia. Let’s go greet your future husband.”
Count Queensguard took Cynthia’s hand like a doting father.
“Yes.”
Cynthia smiled.
She had looked beautiful even in her simple maid uniform, but now that she was dressed in an elegant gown, she looked every bit the noble young lady.
Her expression was kind, though it was hard to know what she was thinking. She had started asking more questions lately, but still behaved obediently.
She had all the traits that attracted high-status men.
‘She’s proving to be quite useful.’
At this point, she was the perfect pawn.
With a satisfied smile, the Count approached Brigadier General Masera del Vicente.
“You must be tired from such a long journey, Brigadier General Vicente.”
“Yes.”
Masera gave a curt reply, then looked down at Cynthia.
Cynthia looked up at the much taller man.
His mysterious eyes reflected the sky like a lilac-colored lake at sunset—or perhaps like the auroras only seen in the cold North.
A strange gaze passed between them.
His eyes drifted from her face down to the red necklace around her neck, and for a moment he seemed lost in memory.
Meanwhile, standing at a distance, Carlos watched the scene unfold with the same dumbfounded look as Edford had earlier.
He had been told by his father that Brigadier General Vicente was a wealthy man in his seventies, and that was why he had brought Cynthia in.
That way, Cynthia would never fall in love with the man and betray him.
But the man standing here was young and handsome.
‘Father lied to me.’
Count Queensguard was a sly fox. He had tricked even his own son and used him to give up Cynthia without a fight.
Even so, Carlos still basked in his arrogance.
‘But Cynthia would never betray me.’
Even if her behavior and speech had changed lately, Cynthia was still Cynthia.
Timid, ignorant, and entirely devoted to Carlos.
“Young Master, I won’t forget this favor… not until the day I die…”
That vow, made by the trembling Cynthia who had accidentally killed a man, would never change.
Meanwhile, Cynthia saw Masera’s dazzling appearance and was now convinced he was the male lead.
‘I knew it, my gut has never steered me wrong.’
That unique presence. That halo of light that made him stand out from afar.
There’s no way he’s not the male lead.
Even if she was deceiving such a handsome man… if she sincerely apologized later, surely he’d understand her circumstances?
With a radiant smile, Cynthia looked up at him.
“Hello, I’m Cynthia Queensguard.”
“Masera del Vicente.”
He was smiling kindly, in contrast to his short answer.
Then he held out his hand and offered a polite escort.
“I’d really like to get out of this wretched town as soon as possible.”
He was a strange man who spoke rudely in a polite tone.
Cynthia, thinking to herself, placed her hand atop his large one.
Just then, someone approached.
“Lady Cynthia.”
It was Anita, a maid who had never joined in on the bullying and had quietly done her duties.
She handed Cynthia a parasol.
“I hear the sun is much harsher in the capital than in this gloomy place.”
“Thank you.”
Did she know I was sensitive to sunlight?
Cynthia smiled with her eyes and whispered something into Anita’s ear.
Anita’s eyes widened slightly, then returned to her usual expressionless face.
“…Understood.”
Escorted by Masera, Cynthia boarded the luxurious car and waved out the window.
“I’ll write to you, father! Take care of my brothers and sister too!”
She looked every bit like a beloved daughter from a warm family.
Unlike the blank-eyed Carlos and Edford, Count Queensguard and Helene naturally returned the gesture and waved.
“Write me as soon as you arrive, my precious jewel.”
Helene makes sense. But that guy is really something else. Anyone would think he’s a doting father.
Cynthia shuddered slightly and turned her head away.
Not long after Cynthia departed, a series of gunshots rang through the estate.
A few days later, the entire staff of the Count’s estate had been replaced.
This was Count Queensguard’s method of ‘silencing.’
* * *
It took three full days to reach the capital.
It was Cynthia’s first time seeing the world beyond the Count’s estate, and everything amazed her.
Still, the architecture and environment of the Rutemia Republic felt strangely familiar.
Did the original author base it on real geography?
Masera seemed to be a man of few words—or perhaps just had nothing to say. He remained silent the entire journey.
Even when Cynthia tried to start a conversation, he’d only offer brief responses without looking away from his newspaper.
“Brigadier General, what’s that?”
“A tree.”
“Wow, isn’t that building so pretty?”
“It’s Art Deco architecture.”
“Is the newspaper interesting?”
“Yes.”
Their dialogue was a clash between bold question marks and even bolder periods.
He wasn’t warm, but he still answered politely.
“Brigadier General, do you know what krungzi* is?”
“No.”
“It’s a croissant that’s flattened and made extra crispy.”
“Ah.”
The moment they arrived at his mansion, this pointless war of words came to an end.
Whew, I thought I’d die from the awkwardness.
“You must be tired from talking to yourself for three days straight. Please rest.”
He already looked like he was done with her.
“Lady Queensguard, I’ll escort you to your room.”
Just like their master, the servants in this mansion were silent and expressionless.
Then, a boy who looked about eight approached and looked up at Cynthia.
“Who are you?”
He was a pretty child with black hair and sprout-green eyes.
Wearing a shirt with a ribbon and pouting slightly, he looked like a small black kitten.
“Is he your son?”
At her blunt question, Masera swept his platinum hair back and smiled.
“No. I picked him up on the battlefield and have been raising him.”
So he’s like a lost kitten. Cynthia crouched down and extended her hand.
“Hello, I’m Cynthia. I’m going to marry the Brigadier General soon—”
“Get lost!”
The boy smacked her hand like a feisty kitten and ran off.
Cynthia looked around sheepishly, only to be met with cold glares from the mansion’s staff.
For some reason, it felt like no one really wanted her here.
💟 Translator Notes 💟
*크룽지 (krungzi): A trendy snack based on a croissant, flattened and caramelized; known in Korea as a hybrid dessert.
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