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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: A Change in Direction
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The moment I hugged Philip, a long-forgotten memory surfaced. It was from a time when I was growing up like a weed under Lord Violode.
One day, when I was ten years old.
Lord Violode, called Bluebeard because of the mysterious blue hair that grew beneath his beard, brought home a new wife.
The so-called fifth wife of Bluebeard.
Helena Ortega.
“Hello, is your name Imeline? I’m Helena. You really do look like me, don’t you?”
That was the greeting from Helena, a woman with brown eyes and red hair.
‘From now on, I’m your mother.’
‘Hello, I’m your new mother. Let’s get along.’
‘Oh, what a cute child. Now, try calling me ‘Mommy,’ won’t you?’
Unlike Bluebeard’s other women, who had thrown the word ‘mother’ around so freely, she clearly stated her own name instead.
Besides, just as Helena had said, she and I looked remarkably alike.
Half out of defiance and half out of curiosity, I greeted her.
“Hello, Helena.”
Would she hit me for not calling her ‘Mother’? Or would she run to Bluebeard and tell on me? Like the other women?
Ten-year-old me thought this as I raised my arms high to shield myself.
But after waiting for what felt like an eternity, no fist or foot came flying. I looked up, puzzled.
Just then, a scrawny boy hiding behind Helena’s back suddenly poked his head out.
“Jeez, you idiot. What are you doing?”
“…Come here, Philip.”
Philip. Only then did I realize this insolent boy was the son Bluebeard’s fifth wife was said to have brought with her.
“She’s no fighter. She’s already scared we’re going to hit her, Mom.”
His words hitting the mark, I glared at the boy.
“Stupid. If you think someone’s about to hit you, you’re supposed to strike first. Like this!”
As he spoke, the boy smacked the face of the rabbit doll Bluebeard had magnanimously left for my birthday. Then he suddenly grabbed the doll’s ears, thrust it in front of me, and said,
“You fight violence with violence. Here, you try.”
Instead of hitting the rabbit doll, I looked back and forth between Helena and the boy.
My pride was wounded.
Then and now, I was a coward, and cowards hate nothing more than being found out. Because it’s scary.
So I said aggressively,
“You two don’t look alike at all. Is he really your son?”
The boy dropped the rabbit doll and scurried to hide behind Helena.
Philip Ortega.
Yes. That was Philip’s name back then. The son Helena had after marrying an incompetent farmer named Ortega.
Our names always changed to match those of the people who tormented us the most at the time.
Philip tugged on Helena’s skirt and said,
“She’s scarily perceptive. It’s creepy.”
Helena laughed, stroking Philip’s hair. Then she crouched down in front of me.
“I like you. Imeline Violode, do you want to be my daughter, too?”
Too?
In that moment, how do you think I felt?
Until then, the women who had married the Lord because of their families’ massive debts had found it burdensome to accept a grown daughter who had been dropped in their laps. Overwhelmed, they blamed me, and when blaming me wasn’t enough, they wanted to hit or lock me away.
Bluebeard would stand by while those women hit and confined me, and when he grew tired of them, he would cast them out using me as an excuse.
‘How dare you touch my flesh and blood!’
Thinking back now, those women were pitiful, too. They were young, barely twenty, and if Bluebeard threw them out, they could hardly return to their own families. After all, it was those families who had sold them off in the first place.
That was what family meant to me, for the most part. Enemies bound together against their will.
But Helena asked for my opinion on becoming family. As if she were letting me decide whether or not to be her daughter.
Naturally, my answer was already decided.
“No!”
Hearing my firm refusal, Helena chuckled.
I snatched back my rabbit doll, which Philip had been trying to sneak away in the confusion, and climbed onto the bed. Philip was a punk then, and he’s a punk now.
“Get out!”
Philip muttered.
“I’m older than her… she spoke informally to me… I’m older… nasty little girl… she’s sharp, too… scary girl…”
“She speaks that way to me, too. Pay it no mind.”
I heard the sound of Helena opening the door. I peeked out from under the covers.
Don’t go. I actually hate being alone in my room.
I wanted to say it, but ten-year-old me was a coward, so I just watched quietly as they left.
✵ ✵ ✵
Five seconds into our emotional embrace, Philip and I sprang apart. We then glared at each other as if we’d seen something revolting.
“You damn brat. Are you out of your mind? Ah, I swear…”
Philip opened and closed his mouth as if about to let loose a string of curses, but…
for some reason, his eyes grew moist, and he clamped his mouth shut before slowly kneeling before me.
“…?”
Then, Philip began to feel my stomach.
‘What… what is he doing?’
While I stood there, bewildered, Philip spoke in a tearful voice.
“Our Rose… is Rose doing okay…? It’s your uncle…”
Who’s Rose?
I stood there blankly for a moment before I realized who this ‘Rose’ Philip was talking about was. Oh, right. Rose is in my belly… right…
…As if!
You really bought that?!
I shot the kneeling Philip a look of utter disbelief.
“You… you actually believed it…?”
As I muttered this, Philip looked up at me with an icy expression.
The abrupt change in his expression sent a shiver down my spine.
‘Was he always this good at acting…?’
While I was still reeling, Philip gritted his teeth and said,
“You think I’d believe that? Mom and I just decided to change direction.”
“Change it how…?”
I asked, bewildered, but Philip didn’t answer. Instead, he tearfully took my hand and led me up to the dais. Then he shouted down at the chaotic chapel below.
“Everyone, stop! I said, stop! Over here! My sister is pregnant! What are you all doing in front of a pregnant woman! Oh, my poor niece…!”
I found myself marveling at the tearful look in Philip’s eyes. He had always been the worst actor among us. When on earth did he get so good?
But my admiration was short-lived. No sooner had Philip’s voice echoed through the hall than Eric and the Duke of Orleans looked up toward the dais.
The Duke of Orleans’s face contorted, and Eric’s eyes widened as he stared at me.
‘Niece…?’
His expression screamed, *What are you talking about?* but I had no answer for him.
‘I have no idea what they’re plotting.’
While I was still trying to grasp the situation, the chapel doors burst open. My mother entered slowly, her face pale, supported by a knight. She cried out.
“…D-Duke! Stop! I have a letter left by our Imeline! Inside her womb is our granddaughter…!”
Our granddaughter. What an incredible choice of words.
But it was true. If Rose were really in my belly, she would be my mother’s granddaughter and Baldeck’s.
I watched my mother waving the letter with her delicate fingertips and let out a dry laugh. In that moment, I finally understood what she and Philip meant by ‘changing direction.’
The knights who had been clashing swords noisily around the hall all ceased their duels.
Baldeck strode toward my mother, his face grim. With a terrifying expression, he asked,
“A letter? If what you’re saying is a lie…”
His voice was unrecognizable from the man who had so romantically proposed to my mother.
“…You can have my head.”
My mother surreptitiously turned her head to look at me.
I clenched my fists.
Baldeck took the letter my mother was holding and began to read. With every line, his expression grew harder.
I glared at Philip. Then, in a voice too low for the Duke to hear, I asked,
“Since it’s come to this, are we going to extort a ton of money from the Young Lord? Is that it?”
Philip furrowed his brow.
The truth was, we still had the enormous debt left by Viscount Wedgwood. Because of it, loan sharks in the south were eager to get their hands on us.
“That’s part of it…”
*Rustle.*
The letter crumpled instantly in Baldeck’s hand.
“She said if he’s a decent guy, you should live happily ever after with him.”
“What?”
Who? Surely not Mother?
“Eric Orleans. If he’s a decent guy… she wants you to live with him for the rest of your life.”
No sooner had Philip finished speaking than Baldeck, his face a mask of fury, threw the letter to the ground.
“You supposedly wrote it in the letter, didn’t you? That he’s kind, honest, and has a cute smile.”
Philip gestured toward Eric with his chin.
“Anyway, Mom’s ultimate goal is to marry you and me off to good people, isn’t it?”
Baldeck shouted to his knights.
“Make preparations at once.”
Baldeck shifted his gaze to Eric and said,
“We are going to His Majesty the King. He will be the judge.”
Eric looked at me. I gritted my teeth.
Live with him for the rest of my life? As if. I’m definitely going back to my family.
I looked at Helena, who was pretending to faint, her face devoid of all color.
‘…You’ve miscalculated, Mother.’
✵ ✵ ✵
In the palace’s opulent dining hall sat the King and Robert.
While Robert was busy showering the King with flattery, the dining hall doors opened, and a tired-looking Ella entered. With the face of someone who had clearly overslept, she greeted His Majesty the King, saying,
“Good morning, Your Majesty.”
“You’re late.”
“When you summon me so suddenly in the morning, how could I not be?”
‘I overdid it last night, so I’m exhausted…’
Ella thought of last night’s guest, who was likely still in her bed, and kneaded her stiff shoulders. Then she shot a sideways glance at Robert and spoke.
“And you don’t even know to greet your older sister when you see her?”
“I offered a small greeting earlier, sister. You must not have heard. Perhaps your ears are clogged? It seems the men you change out daily don’t bother cleaning your ears for you.”
Robert said, glaring at Ella. Ella scoffed.
“Ah, so that glower and glare you gave me when I walked in was a greeting? Court etiquette must have changed a lot while I was sleeping.”
As Ella settled into her seat, adjusting her flowing clothes, servants filled her glass with wine.
The King, clearly displeased with the siblings’ war of nerves, cleared his throat and chided Ella.
“Ahem. You’re the elder, you should show some restraint. Let’s please try to have a pleasant meal today.”
The elder.
Ella frowned.
If she were truly the elder, would her position be threatened by a younger brother born two years after her?
Her father had always pretended to mediate between them with clever words, but it always ended with him telling Ella to shut her mouth. Filled with a familiar displeasure, Ella picked up her wine glass and asked,
“Why the sudden desire for a pleasant family meal, something we haven’t had in over twenty years?”
The King exchanged a peculiar look with Robert. Robert was beaming.
Seeing the smile that never left Robert’s lips, Ella was overcome with a sense of foreboding.
The King spoke.
“This afternoon, Robert will depart with Grand Duke Gerda on an expedition to the frontier. The numerous mines in the north, untouched because of monsters and demi-humans, have been a great concern for the continent. Robert and the Grand Duke will resolve this issue. Therefore, as his sister, you will give Robert your blessing.”
*Bang!*
The moment the King finished speaking, Ella slammed her wine glass down on the table.
The King’s expression was untroubled, as if he had expected this reaction.
“Who… with whom… is going where… and you’re telling *me* to give my blessing, is that it…?”
Ella glared at Robert.
She had heard something about an expedition from the Young Lord, but she never imagined the situation would unfold so quickly.
And with Grand Duke Gerda, of all people?
He was the man who had tried to assassinate her. A man with not even a speck of loyalty to the royal family had now decided to side with Robert.
