#10. Terrible Food
2023.12.10.
‘She doesn’t feel like the Empress Dowager.’
Kalian resembled the emperor whom Yeongnyeong had loved in her previous life.
From his gaze to his tone, even his habits—everything.
That’s why she tried to recall whether Kalian’s mother, Liona, was anything like the Empress Dowager.
But Liona didn’t resemble the Empress Dowager she remembered.
‘Then is Kalian’s resemblance to the Emperor merely a coincidence?’
Though the resentment that boiled in her soul was certain, the exact moment of death still eluded her memory.
Maybe when everything comes back to her, she’ll also understand how she ended up here.
‘In any case, I’m destined to live an unfortunate life—in this world or the next.’
Yes. Whether this was another world or hell, one thing was clear—she had made a terrible marriage both then and now.
And just like before, her mother-in-law was hell-bent on tormenting her.
The Empress Dowager had harassed Yeongnyeong, calling her a woman from a lowly background of no known origin.
Her only pride was her noble and beautiful son. The concubines were nothing more than tools to produce heirs.
Not being from a prestigious family and possessing nothing but martial arts and beauty—qualities useless to an emperor’s consort—she was a thorn in the Empress Dowager’s side.
And so, she had been constantly tormented in petty and degrading ways…
‘But I never once lost to the Empress Dowager. At least, not in any moment I can remember.’
Esica’s lips curled slightly.
‘Let alone someone like the madam of the house.’
There was a reason the concubines used to whisper in fear, calling her a terrifying villainess.
She always countered pettiness with pettiness, and humiliation with even greater humiliation.
Of course, her schemes were flawless.
She had dreamed of being the only woman loved by the man she adored.
Only in her later years did she realize how meaningless and empty that dream truly was.
‘Even if this is hell, it doesn’t matter. What matters is…’
Esica stepped lightly through the window into her room and dusted off her clothes.
‘They will pay me back twentyfold for everything they’ve done to me.’
It might take time, but she would bring them to ruin—make them cry out like livestock led to slaughter.
She was no longer the naive Esica who knew nothing.
Meanwhile…
Hemos was facing the greatest crisis of his life.
He had prepared food and an elixir only to be caught by Emilia, a maid under the madam.
Juicy meat, fresh vegetables, and even an orange drink that looked like carrot juice… Annie, the maid, narrowed her eyes and stared suspiciously at the tray, then at Hemos.
“What is the meaning of this, Head Chef?”
Liona had never openly ordered that spoiled bread be served to Esica.
But every time she saw a decent meal on Esica’s tray, she would click her tongue and criticize the extravagance. Gradually, Esica’s meals had worsened.
Everything that Esica was served went through that pattern.
So preparing such a luxurious meal was outright rebellion against Liona.
“I can’t believe my eyes. I know the madam’s been ignoring the kitchen lately, but to defy her so blatantly…”
The maid shouted sharply.
“Are you saying you no longer want to work in the Klaus estate, Chef?”
A bead of sweat rolled down Hemos’s neck.
He regretted this whole ordeal—those few pearls certainly weren’t worth this—but what was done was done.
He quickly stopped the maid as she turned to leave.
“Wait.”
She turned back with a cold glare.
Hemos handed her the cup from the tray.
She frowned. “What is this? Are you telling me to drink the duchess’s carrot juice and shut up?”
“Just give it a taste and then we’ll talk. Honestly.”
At his firm tone, the maid paused, then reluctantly took the cup.
She wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but there was only one way to find out.
She slowly tilted the cup and took a sip.
“….”
Then she froze—and immediately spat the juice out.
“Pfft!”
She nearly dropped the cup, but Hemos caught it just in time.
Her face turned red and pale in turns, clearly overwhelmed by the taste.
It was beyond terrible—words couldn’t do it justice.
How could anyone dare call this juice?
You could probably extract better-tasting juice by squeezing garbage.
“Ugh…”
The lingering flavor made her gag several times.
Only after seeing this reaction did Hemos finally understand what Esica had meant.
“Follow the recipe for the elixir, but don’t taste it. For ordinary people like you, it’s too much to handle.”
He was glad he’d taken her advice.
“If someone questions what’s in my food, let them taste it. That’ll stop their doubts.”
The maid gulped down water and even had tears in her eyes.
Just how horrible must it have been for her to react like this?
And how in the world was the duchess drinking it?
Hemos got chills.
“This is the most bitter, foul-tasting thing I’ve had in my life.”
She scowled at him.
Snapping out of his daze, Hemos cleared his throat.
“When someone eats spoiled food every day, they get used to it. Sometimes you need a change.”
The maid nodded and glanced back at the food meant for Esica.
If the juice tasted this weird, the rest must be just as awful.
“How fun would it be to expect something delicious, only to be smacked in the face with that taste, right?”
She now felt this was something the madam would praise.
She had thought Hemos was just a boring man, but perhaps not.
With a smile, she said, “I’ll be sure to tell the madam about your cute little prank.”
Hemos nodded awkwardly. “Sure. But don’t go suspecting people so easily next time.”
“Sorry about earlier. The food just looked… too nice.”
“Want a bite of the meat?”
“Ew, get that disgusting thing away from me!”
When he offered it playfully, she recoiled.
“Well, I’ll be going then. Oh, and bake some cookies—madam’s planning to visit the garden this evening.”
Then she left the kitchen.
Only once she was gone did Hemos clutch his chest and let out a relieved sigh.
He had fooled her completely. A smile crept onto his face.
No one would suspect him for a while now.
Later…
“…So that’s what happened.”
After hearing Sella’s report, Esica gave a faint smile.
She had anticipated that the madam would eventually check on the food.
After all, her complexion had visibly improved thanks to practicing breathing techniques—and the fresh food, of course.
Back when she had to survive on stale bread, she frequently fell ill.
Breaking out in hives was common, but she had no choice but to eat it to avoid starvation.
There was even a time she begged Yuri to trade jewels for fresh food, but Yuri had responded with concern:
“The madam is punishing you right now… If she catches you trying to avoid the punishment, she’ll be terribly disappointed. What if she badmouths you to the Duke?”
Esica had accepted that being hated by the madam was unavoidable.
But the idea that her relationship with her husband, Kalian, might worsen—that was what scared her.
So she had resolved to endure the rotten bread.
That was the foolish, naive Esica—before she regained her memories as Yeongnyeong.
“Anyway, now even if I’m served a luxurious meal, no one will suspect anything.”
Sella said with relief.
She had been anxious trying to sneak decent food to Esica without getting caught.
“….”
Esica stared out the window.
The mansion’s vast garden stretched before her.
It looked beautiful, but it had always been a prison to her.
A prison where she couldn’t even get proper clothes or food.
What once felt unfair had become so familiar that it made her numb.
Since her marriage, she had only been allowed to leave the Klaus estate twice.
That too, only early in the marriage—while standing like a prop under Liona’s watchful eyes.
Liona had never permitted her to leave the house alone.
Not even when news came that her father was ill or when her sister-in-law gave birth.
“Esica Klaus. Even if it concerns your family, leaving the estate without my permission is the same as disrespecting the Klaus name.”
Her piercing glare and cold voice had broken her spirit, and Esica lived like a sick dog chained in its yard.
Meanwhile, Liona herself freely attended parties and social events both inside and outside Klaus, while keeping Esica locked down.
Worse, she had cunningly eroded Esica’s confidence to make her chain herself.
“You want to attend a tea party? You, a bumpkin from the rural Freihatz region, sitting there like a duchess? Do you know how much that would disgrace the Klaus name?”
Even Yuri, by her side, had reinforced that belief.
“Esica… the madam is right. The noble ladies in Torres hide knives behind their refined words and smiles. If you can’t understand their true intentions, you’ll become a laughingstock.”
So Esica never even considered reporting the abuse to her family or anyone outside.
Eventually, the shabby room and rotting food felt like her rightful place.
She had become completely conditioned by the abuse inside Klaus.
After a moment’s thought, Esica picked up a sheet of paper and began writing something.
Then she crumpled it and handed it to Sella.
“Take this to Hemos.”
