WLYV 04

Chapter 4 

Who Owns This Room?
February 4, 2024

Morning came.

Lost in thought, Lorentia finished her contemplation, picked up the bell on the table, and began to shake it.

In a room where no sound should be heard, the continuous ringing echoed clearly through the hallways. The maids walking by stopped in confusion and perked up their ears.

— Ding.

Even after listening again, it was unmistakably the sound of a bell.

“Isn’t that sound coming from the bastard’s room?”
“Yes, it is.”

The maids, puzzled by the ongoing ringing, hurried to inform the head maid, Julie.

“The bastard is shaking the bell in her room?”
“Yes, Miss Julie.”
“Are you sure you didn’t mishear? That bastard wouldn’t dare ring a bell.”
“No, Head Maid. The bell has been ringing for a while! We all heard it together.”

“Really?”

Julie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The ringing of the bell meant that the person in the room was calling for her attendants to serve her.

Though Lorentia had been formally registered into the noble family, her birth as an illegitimate child made her lower than pigs and dogs in status.

For her to ring the bell—Julie thought it was the height of arrogance.

“You girls should’ve handled a bastard like her on your own.”
“We could’ve, Head Maid, but you know how Prince Luans dotes on that useless brat!”

Because of the direct intervention of Luans, the Second Prince of the Isther Empire, Lorentia—who had lived her life locked in a tower—had suddenly been given the title of the Count of Pol Heredian’s daughter.

No one could understand what Luans saw in her to elevate her so drastically.

Even at nineteen, Lorentia was only 155 centimeters tall, frail, and painfully thin. What’s more, it was a secret within the Pol Heredian family that she hadn’t even begun menstruating.

“The Prince truly has peculiar tastes.”
“You’re right, Head Maid. Why would His Highness bother with such a plain, pitiful girl?”
“Maybe he just feels sorry for her.”
“Even if she’s a bastard, being a Count’s daughter deserves some respect… but shaking a bell?”

Julie couldn’t shake off the irritation. That lowly girl, summoning people as though she owned the place? Unforgivable.

She decided to take three maids with her to Lorentia’s room, where the bell was still ringing.

She would make sure that brat learned her place—and that she would never dare touch that bell again.

— Ding, ding.

Just as the maids said, the bell sounded from inside Lorentia’s room.

Julie snorted in disbelief and barged in without knocking.

Inside, Lorentia was seated, shaking the bell. When their eyes met—Lorentia’s violet eyes glimmering coldly—Julie froze.

She had meant to glare at her as usual, but for some reason, her whole body shrank back. Goosebumps prickled up her arms; a chill ran down her spine.

“The head maid of House Pol Heredian enters the lady’s room without knocking, without permission?”

The moment Lorentia spoke, Julie realized she was different.

Lorentia had always been like other illegitimate children in noble houses—a human trash can for others’ emotions. On rainy days, she could be beaten senseless as long as she didn’t die.

“Did you think that because I’m a bastard, this room didn’t belong to me?”

“N-no, Miss.”

Though Julie didn’t truly acknowledge her, Lorentia had been legally registered as the Count’s daughter. She had to address her properly as “the Count’s young lady.”

When Lorentia hadn’t acted like one, she could be treated however they pleased—but now, she seemed fully aware of her own status. That made Julie’s blood boil.

Because if Lorentia, even as a bastard, asserted her rank as a noble lady, Julie had no choice but to obey.

“But tell me, Head Maid Julie.”

Julie swallowed hard. Lorentia’s tone was too natural, too composed.

“Why did you come in without knocking or permission?”
“T-that is…”

Lorentia studied Julie’s flustered face with cold amusement. The woman looked utterly unsettled.

“Miss Lorentia, that is… hoho…” Julie forced a pleasant smile to deflect the question. The maids behind her awkwardly followed suit.

“Did you just call me Miss Lorentia?”

Lorentia’s voice turned cold, and the laughter died instantly.

Julie and the maids had thought they were being respectful by attaching “Miss” to her name—it was the most they could offer to a bastard-turned-noble.

“I’ll ask one question, Head Maid Julie.”
“Y-yes?”
“Who owns this room?”

Beneath Lorentia’s faint smile, her eyes were devoid of warmth. Julie understood the real meaning behind the question.

“Lady Lorentia Pol Heredian.”
“Yes. That’s right.”

Julie could no longer bring herself to add “Miss.” This wasn’t the shabby attic where Lorentia used to live—this was the room of a noble daughter.

“From now on, that’s what you’ll call me. No—you must call me that.”

Julie’s face turned pale. Lorentia slowly approached, and Julie found herself bowing instinctively. The maids behind her did the same.

“Head Maid Julie.”

Lorentia raised Julie’s chin with her fingertip. Julie’s trembling eyes met the chilling violet gaze above her.

“I’ll ask once more. Who did you say owns this room?”
“L-Lady Lorentia Pol Heredian.”
“Before you enter my room next time, remember—it is the chamber of the Count’s daughter.”

Julie began to doubt whether this was the same pathetic bastard she had always known.

She was still the same—small, thin, unimpressive—but something about her presence… was terrifying.

“Understood?”
“Y-yes, my lady.”

Julie’s knees trembled uncontrollably. A bead of cold sweat slid down her back at Lorentia’s icy tone.

What on earth had happened to her overnight?

A short while ago, Julie had planned to humiliate her in front of the maids. But now, the power dynamic between them had been unmistakably reversed.

Even the maids behind Julie understood that.

“Lady Lorentia.”

Only when Julie addressed her properly did Lorentia smile faintly, seemingly satisfied.

The morning breakfast table at the Pol Heredian mansion began as quietly as ever.

“How is the kitten you received yesterday?”
“Yes, Mother. It’s so adorable.”
“I’m glad. Play with it gently. By the way, Illina, do you have another date today?”
“Yes, Mother. He said he’d come by around noon.”
“Good. Always carry yourself properly.”
“Don’t worry, Mother.”

Illina replied with poise, cutting her steak neatly and bringing a small piece to her mouth.

“The meat is good today, but I would’ve preferred it a bit rarer.”
“I told the chef to cook it slightly more. It’s not good to eat it too rare first thing in the morning.”
“Oh? That explains it. It did taste different.”

The Count, Brandt, sat at the head of the table, smiling faintly as he listened to his wife and daughter talk. He was eating salad when—

“M-my lord.”

It was Arden, the head butler of House Pol Heredian.

“What is it, Arden?”
“Well…”

Arden was known for being calm and composed at all times. But now, he looked unsettled. Brandt set his spoon down.

“Speak.”
“My apologies, my lord. It’s an embarrassing matter to report, and I lost my composure.”
“Out with it.”
“Lady Lorentia… shook the bell in her room.”
“What? What did she do?”
“She rang the bell to summon Head Maid Julie.”
“That bastard dared to ring the bell? No—how could she even manage that? She can’t possibly have the nerve to summon someone!”
“But it’s true, my lord.”

A vein throbbed at Brandt’s temple. Yet Arden wasn’t the sort to make mistakes.

He had raised Lorentia to be timid and subservient—locked in an attic, beaten, and insulted. She had grown into a creature with no self-worth, frightened of even her own shadow.

For that cowardly girl to ring the bell of her own will? Impossible.

“That monster rang the bell? How strange…”

Brandt’s blue eyes darted between Anne and Illina, betraying unease.

“Brandt,” Anne said lightly, “perhaps she was just curious and wanted to try it out.”
“But Mother,” Illina interjected, “it’s odd, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“A coward who couldn’t even call for help now rings a bell to summon servants? Isn’t that strange?”
“You’re right. She knows full well what that bell is for.”

Illina smiled coldly.

“It seems it’s time to give Lorentia another lesson, Father.”

She dabbed her lips delicately with her napkin.

Luans had been visiting often lately, and his interest in Lorentia irritated her endlessly. Today he was due to visit again, so she couldn’t spend long—but Illina knew how to make Lorentia suffer efficiently in a short time.

“Won’t you be late for your outing if you do that?”
“I’ll keep it brief.”
“Fine. But be careful not to leave visible marks. Prince Luans said he dislikes having to fuss over her when she’s bruised.”
“Yes, Father.”

When Brandt punished Lorentia physically, Illina preferred psychological torment.

She would order servants to catch and kill the birds Lorentia loved—sometimes right in front of her.

She would starve her for days or keep her from sleeping.

Each time, Lorentia would kneel, begging pitifully for mercy—and that sight alone calmed Illina’s temper.

To Illina, Lorentia was nothing more than the mansion’s emotional waste bin.

“It’s been a while. I suppose I should educate her properly again.”

A sweet smile spread across Illina’s face—her golden hair and blue eyes glowing with beauty, belying the cruelty beneath.