Chapter 1.1

Yvonne’s mother died giving birth to her, and her father locked himself in his room afterward. The chaotic Schmidt County was governed by the Count’s uncle and his daughter, Nina.  

Yvonne had no idea how or when Nina’s husband, a physician of the gentry class, had passed away, but she remembered the exact day Nina became her stepmother. In truth, it had only been a few months ago.  

“Nora, what’s that?”  

Unfamiliar flags hung near the castle gates. She didn’t recognize them, but they likely had something to do with the unusually excited knights and servants. And for someone like her – hiding in Schmidt Castle past marriageable age – this couldn’t be good news.  

Nora’s face flushed with embarrassment as she glanced out the window. Yvonne pressed her.  

“Tell me.”  

“W-well, my lady…”  

Soft-hearted Nora trailed off. Yvonne could only imagine the worst. But it wasn’t entirely unreasonable. 

“Did our granduncle become Count Schmidt?”  

“No! Of course not!”  

Nora’s eyes widened as she waved her hands. Before Yvonne could spin more wild theories, she quickly added:  

“Your… your fifth cousin, Lady Nina, is to marry the master.”  

“Aunt Nina?”  

Yvonne’s eyes widened in surprise. Just then, cheers erupted from outside the open gates. Her gaze returned to the window. Nina rode through on a white horse, her sons in tow. Even from a distance, the tall, striking beauty’s features were clear.  

Nina had never shown much interest in Yvonne, but unlike other relatives, she didn’t avoid or dislike her either. Contrary to Nora’s worries, Yvonne remained indifferent.  

“I don’t mind.”  

“My lady…”  

The ill-omened girl born with white hair and red eyes. The witch of Schmidt Castle. The monster who devoured her own mother. Most of the epithets attached to Yvonne Schmidt were variations of the same.  

Marriage was out of the question – she couldn’t even appear in public. All she could do was waste away unnoticed in Schmidt Castle. So then…  

“Aunt Nina will make a fine mistress for Schmidt Castle.”  

And the brother she bears will too.

Yvonne took a deep breath. She felt relieved. The attention fixed on her would undoubtedly wane. Leaning against the window, she watched the crowd welcome their new lady. They’ve already forgotten me. For the first time in ages, she observed the outside world with ease.  

Then – an odd sense of dissonance. Her gaze shifted to the men following Nina.  

A man on a black horse stood as large as his steed. Yet his face was as refined and beautiful as a sculpture modeled after a god. That must be Alexander, Nina’s eldest son – soon to be my stepbrother. There was something unsettling about him.  

And the man beside him, riding a bay horse…  

“……!”  

Their eyes met. He smiled. Yvonne quickly hid inside.  

Like his brother, he was impossibly handsome, with the same black hair – but…  

His eyes were red.

Not the eerie crimson of hers, but a warm, deep russet.  

She’d heard Nina’s younger son, Logan, was a year older than her. Without realizing, she fiddled with a few strands of white hair escaping her hood.  

Alexander noticed Logan staring intently at the castle’s heights and nearly frowned. Of all times to be distracted – on such an important occasion, entering Schmidt Castle as its new masters.

“Logan.”  

“Hm?”  

“Look straight ahead.”  

“What, you think I’ll fall off my horse?”  

Logan immediately turned to flash a charming smile at the crowd, so Alexander let it go. But then;

“Brother, you’ve visited before. Ever seen Yvonne?”  

“No.”  

That eerie, reclusive girl. Alexander had only heard of her from their grandfather, who detested her. The stories sounded more like grim legends – he half-doubted she was real.  

“I think I just saw her. So I’ve met her before you.”  

Alexander didn’t respond. Unbothered, Logan continued, “You don’t need to buy me that slave anymore.”  

“Good.”  

Not that I ever planned to.

Logan had always been restless – hunting, sparring, anything but studying. Yet recently, he’d holed up in the study, suddenly demanding a slave. Suspicious. Alexander had ignored the request entirely.  

“Found something more interesting.”  

Ah. His capricious brother’s attention had shifted to their new stepsister. Unfortunate for her, but Logan’s obsessions never lasted. Alexander had no interest in interfering.  

“Don’t overdo it.”  

Logan smirked. “What’s the worst that could happen?”  

He recalled the white-haired girl beyond the window and smiled.

* * *

The new stepmother was neither kind nor cruel to Yvonne. Yvonne, in turn, felt little toward her. But Alexander, now her stepbrother, openly despised her – not for anything she’d done, but simply for existing. Naturally, Yvonne grew fearful and avoided him.  

The knights and servants remained unchanged. Most ignored her as always; only a rare few, conspicuously kind-hearted, offered small gestures of pity.  

The castle’s atmosphere unfolded as Yvonne had predicted – save for one exception.  

Until yesterday, her parlor had merely been a passage between the hallway and bedroom. No one ever visited to converse there. But today, Yvonne found herself seated on a threadbare sofa, receiving an unexpected guest.  

The gaze from across the table prickled her skin. When will the tea arrive? She fidgeted with her fingers, tracing a scratch on the table’s edge.  

“Even your eyelashes are white.”  

“……!”  

Logan suddenly leaned in, his face inches from hers. Startled, Yvonne jerked back. He grinned, unrepentant.  

“Did I scare you? Sorry.”  

“N-no…”  

“Still can’t drop the formal speech?”  

The answer he wanted was yes, but Yvonne only managed a hesitant nod.  

“How cold. I wanted us to be close quickly.”  

Heat rushed to her cheeks. The unexpected warmth disarmed her. She did want that – she just didn’t know how to make it happen. Words tangled in her throat. Don’t let him misunderstand. She gnawed her lip.  

“Do you dislike me?”  

Her eyes widened. Logan’s face fell. Panicked, she blurted:  

“No–!”  

The near-shriek made her clamp her mouth shut. He’ll think I’m a fool. He’ll never visit again. She bowed her head, fighting tears. But Logan only softened his voice.  

“Then why not speak casually?”  

“It’s just… habit…”  

Nora arrived with tea, sparing her. A cup was thrust into her hands, its aroma fruity and bright.  

“What’s this…?”  

“No idea. Told the maid to bring whatever Mother drinks. Smells good, right?”  

Yvonne smiled despite herself. Logan mirrored it – a radiant grin that left her momentarily breathless. She’d never seen someone smile so close before.  

Staring too long, she snapped back to awareness. Flustered, she raised the cup, then froze.  

“…Thank you.”  

“Good girl.”  

He ruffled her hair. Her whole body stiffened at the unfamiliar touch. Yet when his hand withdrew, she mourned its absence. Did it mess up my wig? 

As she floundered, Logan whispered:  

“I’ll give you a reward.”  

“Reward…?”  

His conspiratorial tone drew her in. She leaned closer, pulse racing.  

“Tonight, you’ll dream sweetly.”  

A… dream? She forced a smile at what must be a joke. Logan laughed outright, then stood.  

“I’ll go now.”  

“Y-yes – I mean, okay… Goodbye…”  

He left, satisfied. But at the door, he turned:  

“Drink all of that, Yvonne.”  

The tea’s crimson depths held a faint sweetness. Sipping slowly, she finished every drop – almost as if he still watched her.  

“Yvonne.”  

Her eyes flew open, lids pried apart by an unseen force.  

Logan sat at her bedside, the room lit by a single candle. His presence at this hour should have alarmed her. Yet she felt only calm.  

“Say yes,” he chided.  

Yes? She blinked dumbly as his hand slipped under her nightgown, pinching a n*pple.  

“Ah–!”  

She gasped, grabbing his wrist. His pulse thrummed hot under her fingers.  

“L-Logan! Stop–!”  

He twisted harder, baring her chest. His eyes darkened at the sight of her pale skin.  

“Too weak a dose?”  

Before she could react, he withdrew, smiling as if nothing happened. She clutched her gown, trembling.  

“Leave… or I’ll scream–”  

“Yvonne Schmidt.”  

Her mouth sealed shut.  

“You’re a dog.”  

The words sank into her fogged mind. Wait… Am I not human? 

“A pretty white purebred.”  

She stared at her body – the bloodless skin, the white hair spilling over it. Even her face felt unfamiliar.  

“But why wear human clothes?”  

Logan’s question lingered as her nightgown slid off. N*ked, she instinctively covered herself.  

“Come here.”  

Shame burned her cheeks. I’m a dog, yet ashamed to be seen? She crawled to him on her knees.  

“Can’t even hide these with one arm,” he teased, flicking a n*pple. Her back arched.  

“Already sensitive? Do you touch them often?”  

His hand trailed lower, gripping her p*bic hair. She yelped as he yanked.  

“White here too. Perfect.”  

A finger plunged inside without warning.  

“N-no! It’s dirty–!”  

She had only ever touched there briefly while bathing. The intrusion burned. Tears fell as he crooned;  

“Ever put anything in here?”  

His finger withdrew, leaving her oddly empty. Then–  

Lick.

He tasted her on his fingers, grinning at her horror.  

“Delicious.”  

She squeezed her eyes shut, going limp as he laid her down. His whisper grazed her ear:  

“Need to find you a stud soon.”  

A kiss landed on her forehead.  

“Sweet dreams, Yvonne Schmidt.”  

And so began her first strange dream.

* * *

After Nina became her stepmother, the biggest change in Yvonne’s life was mealtime.  

Uncomfortable with others’ gazes, Yvonne had always eaten in her room instead of the dining hall. But Nina insisted she join the family meals. As a result, since gaining a stepmother and stepbrothers, Yvonne often suffered from indigestion. Yet this morning, her nausea stemmed from something else entirely.  

Logan’s seat happened to be directly opposite hers. Head bowed, Yvonne peeked up at him through her lashes. She watched him cut his food with elegant precision, her eyes snagging on his long, delicate fingers. She couldn’t look away.  

Have you ever tried putting something in here?

The dream of him rummaging through her lower body – what a grotesque absurdity. Her face flushed crimson. Last night’s dream had been more explicit than any she’d ever had, yet even more unsettling than its obscenity was its strangeness. The raw dialogue – p*ssy, thrusting – and the moment she’d mistaken herself for a dog…  

Just recalling it made her skin crawl with shame. And of all people, to dream such things about her stepbrother…  

Yvonne shook her head violently. Nina paused her meal and watched her.  

“Yvonne?”  

“…! Yes…!”  

“Is something wrong with the food?”  

“No…”  

“Then why shake your head so suddenly?”  

“……”  

Because… The reason alone sent blood rushing to her cheeks. She could feel Logan’s gaze from across the table. Tears welled.  

“I’m sorry.”  

Seeing Yvonne’s deep bow, Nina spoke calmly.  

“Etiquette doesn’t become second nature unless practiced. Remember that.”  

“Yes…”  

“Finish your meal.”  

“Yes…”  

Silence hung heavy, broken only by the soft clatter of cutlery. In the end, Yvonne ate less than half of what she usually would.

As soon as Yvonne finished her meal, she headed to her room. She was exhausted. Even though all she had done since waking up was grooming herself and eating, her body felt utterly drained.  

She was drowsy, too – likely because of yesterday’s dream. That grotesque dream had clearly robbed her of deep sleep. I’ll take a nap as soon as I get to my room, she thought.  

“Yvonne.”  

“Ah!”  

Of all times – why did he appear while I was thinking about that dream?! Startled, Yvonne yelped. Logan smiled awkwardly.  

“Sorry. Did I scare you?”  

“N-no… No.”  

Yvonne pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart hammered violently – not just from his sudden appearance. She strained to suppress the memories bubbling up.  

“Where are you going?”  

“To my room.”  

“You’re always in your room. What exactly do you do there?”  

“……”  

Is he teasing me? She didn’t know how to respond. When Yvonne clamped her mouth shut, Logan continued lightly,  

“Just curious. I’m off duty today, and I still don’t know Schmidt Castle well. Thought you might show me around.”  

“…Nothing special… Just going to nap…”  

Saying it aloud made it sound pitiful. Today really is the worst. She desperately wanted to be alone. Yvonne quickened her steps – but Logan’s pace effortlessly matched hers.  

“Couldn’t sleep last night? You did look exhausted. Want some sleeping pills?”  

“Sleeping pills…?”  

“My father was a doctor. I know how to prescribe basic medication.”  

If I take them, could I sleep deeply? Without dreaming… Yvonne’s head bobbed in eager agreement.

“Yvonne.”  

Logan called her name from the bedside. Yvonne barely opened her eyes. It felt like something similar had happened very recently, but she couldn’t quite remember. She simply answered quietly.  

“Yes…”  

“Bend your knees and spread your legs.”  

“Yes.”  

As she followed his instructions, the front of her nightgown fell open. Logan moved closer to her lower body, examining the space between her parted legs. A wave of intense shame washed over Yvonne, and she bit her lip hard.  

“…!”  

His fingers brushed the inner folds of her l*bia and the entrance of her v*gina. She barely resisted the urge to close her legs – Logan hadn’t yet given her permission to do so.  

Fortunately, he withdrew his hand quickly.  

“Guess you really just took a nap. I thought you might’ve gone to touch yourself, thinking about last night.”  

“Touch myself…?”  

When she repeated the words, Logan looked slightly surprised.  

“You don’t know what that means?”  

“No…”  

“You must’ve had s*x ed… Ah, maybe they didn’t teach you because they assumed you’d never need it. But instinct alone should’ve…”  

He muttered to himself. As Yvonne stared blankly, their eyes suddenly met. He grinned, sending a shiver down her spine.  

Logan stepped away from the bed and placed an armchair in front of a full-length mirror. Then he gestured for her to come. Only then could she finally close her legs – if only for a brief moment.  

He positioned Yvonne to face the mirror and sit on the chair, then ordered her to drape each leg over the armrests.  

“Ugh…”  

Following his command, a part of herself she’d never seen before was laid bare before her eyes. Her face burned with embarrassment.  

It was humiliating and grotesque. But Logan wouldn’t let her look away. She had no choice but to keep her gaze fixed there.  

His fingertip tapped the still-hidden cl*toris. A sudden jolt of electricity shot through that tiny area. Her hips twitched slightly, and a small moan escaped her lips.  

“Ah…!”  

“This is your cl*toris. Never touched it? Or rubbed it against anything?”  

“No…”  

What was that just now? It’s scary… 

This time, Logan stroked her lower abdomen and v*lva more broadly.  

“Ever crossed your legs… or clenched your inner muscles while sitting? For reasons other than holding in pee.”  

“That too…”  

“Hmm…”  

Logan paused at her response, then seemed to remember something. He moved behind her.  

Through the mirror, she watched as he stood behind her, slowly caressing her ear, jaw, and neck before kneading her skin with deliberate pressure. For some reason, her breathing began to quicken. When his large hand cupped her br*ast, a soft whimper escaped her.  

“Mmm…”  

“So you have played with this part before.”  

“Yes… Ah…”  

Logan smiled in satisfaction. Yvonne watched as the woman in the mirror – herself – gradually flushed. The sight of her br*ast distorting under the pressure of his veined hand made her stomach tighten.  

His hands moved as if they knew exactly what she wanted. His touch grew firmer, more insistent, until he began teasing her n*pples. Pinching and twisting them between his fingers, he made her shoulders jerk violently.  

“Ah–ahhn!”  

“Good… You look so pretty like this, Yvonne.”