Chapter 2
“Sir Frederick.”
Hermia slightly bent her knees to greet him. The gentleman before her, whose eye level was similar to hers, was the eldest son of the family that had recently been involved in marriage talks.
This was also the family that her mother had coldly rejected after the last will of the late Duke Rockford was made public.
In short, their relationship was currently quite uncomfortable.
Frederick snatched the book from her hands and roughly tore off the poorly attached cover that resembled a Bible.
“The Stolen Noble Lady Decided To Retrieve Everything?”
‘Damn it.’
Hermia quickly reached out, fearing that the Countess might see it.
“It’s a friend’s book. She just lent it to me for a moment…”
“No way. No way. How can a future Duchess enjoy such lowbrow entertainment?”
Frederick leaned back, making her outstretched hand seem futile. A smirk curled at one corner of his mouth, laced with disdain.
“Does Lord Walter know? The lady who will be his wife enjoys reading this kind of trashy novel?”
“…Please give it back.”
Hermia forced a smile at the man whose pride had clearly been wounded.
“I’m truly sorry for rejecting your proposal. You come from an excellent family and have a handsome appearance…”
Just then, a gust of wind blew, ruffling Frederick’s bangs. Hermia hurriedly continued, seeing his broad forehead exposed for a moment.
“With your wonderful character, you’ll surely find a better wife than me.”
“You will regret it. A woman must live according to her station to be happy.”
Frederick pressed his bangs down onto his forehead obsessively as he held out the book. Although he seemed to be returning it, he stubbornly refused to let go.
“This…”
“The requirement for marriage is only one year; I extend my heartfelt condolences in advance. A woman who has been cast aside has nowhere to go but a convent.”
Hermia bit her lip.
It was hard to believe that this man before her was the same one who had sent her flowers and sweet notes.
However, given how one-sidedly their relationship had ended without any hesitation, she couldn’t argue back at all.
‘It wasn’t me who broke off the engagement; it was my mother.’
Regardless of who it was, Hermia’s goal had always been marriage itself, so this blame felt unjust.
Had the will not been made public, she might have married this man normally. If that had happened, she wouldn’t have faced such humiliation.
The cause of this situation was approaching steadily—her stepmother, Countess Olivia Vansen.
“Sir Frederick Cotton.”
“…Good evening, Countess Vansen.”
Frederick suddenly let go of her hand, causing Hermia to sway slightly.
She quickly straightened up and hid the book behind her back. The Countess smoothly smiled without even glancing at her daughter.
“Our daughter has been rude to you lately. At that age, it’s common for feelings to get confused and kindness mistaken for affection.”
Hermia hurriedly lowered her eyes at the private jab from her mother.
“She simply misinterpreted your kindness; isn’t she adorable?”
“That could be true. She’s not yet twenty years old. A woman becomes an adult only after marrying and having children.”
At those words, the Countess’s face turned bright red. Frederick was implicitly criticizing the Countess for not being able to bear children herself.
He knew very well that she had been the one who led the engagement talks only to break them off later. Despite this knowledge, the Countess maintained her smile.
“I’m very grateful for your understanding. I’ll make sure my daughter behaves properly from now on so that you won’t misunderstand again.”
“……”
“Come now, Hermia. We can’t keep the Marchioness waiting any longer!”
The Countess elegantly turned and walked away first. Hermia glanced anxiously at Frederick before following her mother.
She felt his piercing gaze on her back as they walked away.
‘Why is everyone making such a fuss about me?’
She thought inwardly as she stepped heavily toward where the ladies were gathered.
—
“Just wait! Let’s see if they can still act so arrogantly after becoming in-laws with the Duke!”
The Countess shouted irritably as she stepped down from the carriage with the butler’s assistance. Having heard harsh words throughout their return journey, Hermia wore an exhausted expression.
“The Cotton family is done in high society now! They’re being expelled!”
“Welcome back, my lady. Miss Hermia.”
The butler bowed politely as he took the fan and shawl from her hands.
“And him?”
“I received word just a moment ago. His business meeting ran long; he’ll be staying at a hotel tonight.”
As the Countess strode angrily across the garden, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.
“A meeting? He’s probably just having another drunken party! Hermia Vansen!”
At her sharp voice, Hermia quickly followed behind.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Give it here.”
“What…?”
Instead of answering, Hermia finally handed over the book under her mother’s piercing glare. She thought she had hidden it well, but it turned out her mother had been pretending not to notice all along.
The novel that had been crumpled in her grip now lay in the Countess’s hands. Hermia’s heart raced anxiously.
“……”
The Countess checked the title and tossed it aside without even looking at its contents.
“Burn it.”
“That doesn’t belong to me…”
Hermia started to protest but fell silent immediately after realizing where this conversation was headed.
“Of course not. It must have been that wild girl Irene Schwain who gave it to you.”
The Countess stepped closer and waggled her finger at Hermia, signaling her to bow down to match her shorter height.
Hermia obediently shrank back and lowered her head.
“If I see you with that country bumpkin again, I’ll cut your meals in half.”
“What? Even less than now?”
Hermia suddenly lifted her head in surprise. She was already eating so little, akin to birdseed, and now her mother threatened to cut that amount in half.
If that really happened, she would surely starve before even getting married.
‘They say royalty will attend the wedding of the Duke of Rockford; does she intend to showcase my belly fat to them?’
It was after she had finally cleaned her plate that the Countess casually mentioned this.
Afterward, Hermia’s plate was filled only with dry steak without sauce, half a boiled fish, or at best, a few roasted vegetables.
Naturally, Hermia grew increasingly thin. The chef had even gone so far as to secretly prepare a sandwich stuffed with ingredients between buttered bread.
But that too didn’t last long. Someone among the servants reported it to the Countess, resulting in both the chef and the maid who delivered the food receiving a three-month pay cut.
Since then, Hermia’s meals had become increasingly meager.
“Your meals are just lightly seasoned. Stop exaggerating.”
The Countess clicked her tongue as she ascended the porch and disappeared into the mansion. Soon after, loud orders for foot massages echoed from inside.
The book borrowed from Irene was held by the butler, who shook his head apologetically.
“I’ll check if the book was burned. I’m sorry, Miss.”
“…It’s fine.”
Hermia entered with her shoulders drooping. The Vansen family mansion, which had been passed down for three generations, sparkled brightly.
Cream-colored wallpaper with gold moldings, a red carpet leading up the stairs, and polished wooden furniture gleaming without a speck of dust.
Even after six years, it felt like stepping into an unfamiliar place.
As she climbed the stairs, Hermia paused in front of a wall filled with large and small portraits.
“Excuse me, butler.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Why did my father bring me into the Vansen family?”
In the largest portrait, a cheerful family smiled warmly at anyone who looked. Hermia imagined Mel Greenwood’s face superimposed over her own smiling doll-like visage.
For some reason, it felt more natural to see that girl in the painting instead of herself. Unable to say anything in response to the butler’s awkward silence, she forced a smile.
“It must have been because Mother couldn’t have children; he had no choice but to bring home an illegitimate child he never once wondered about for fourteen years.”
“……”
She had long known that the old butler wouldn’t deny such empty words. Taking a deep breath, Hermia resolutely continued up the stairs.
“I’m hungry again today.”
Muttering absentmindedly as she collapsed onto the sofa, a fellow maid rushed in anxiously.
As Hermia barely lifted her feet, the maid quickly came over and helped her take off her shoes.
“I saw everything, Miss.”
“What?”
Hermia replied dully as she extended her other foot.
“The book that the butler is holding! It’s that one, right? ‘The Stolen Lady’.”
Hermia shot up immediately.
“You know about that novel too?”
“Of course! It’s already famous among the maids. It’s spreading by word of mouth; even noble ladies are reading it now.”
Andy carefully placed Hermia’s shoes into a velvet box and brought out slippers for her.
“The female protagonist who was thought to be just a maid turns out to be a count’s daughter! Isn’t that an amazing story?”
“Do you think Mel is the protagonist?”
Hermia asked without hesitation. Andy blinked her round eyes in surprise.
“Well, it seems obvious that it’s modeled after Mel. Plus, Lord Walter and Prince Gerald appear in it too!”
“Why is Mel the protagonist instead of me?”
Feeling unjustly treated, Hermia frowned as Andy giggled.
“Then it wouldn’t be an interesting story!”
After putting on Hermia’s slippers, Andy went behind the sofa and straightened her upper body. As she unfastened one strap of Hermia’s corset while removing her dress, she continued speaking.
“Even if Mel feels shy about it, it’s true that she’s beautiful. Someone must have used their imagination after seeing Mel following you around.”
“Right. To be called a protagonist means you should at least have dukes and princes as childhood friends.”
Hermia shrugged mockingly.
“How did a count’s daughter end up in an orphanage?”
At this point, Andy paused for a moment before whispering conspiratorially.
“It’s because of an evil plot and schemes aimed at devouring their entire family.”
“Oh?”
Seeing Hermia show interest in her story made Andy move closer to her.
“So how Bell Vince became Bell Graywood is…”
Just as she was about to delve deeper into the tale, there was suddenly a loud ring from downstairs. Andy frowned deeply.
“Who could be so rude as to come at this hour?”
“Well… I don’t think it’s Father.”
Before long, there was no knock as the door swung open abruptly. It was Laura, the head maid.
“Miss! Quickly get dressed! Duke Walter Rockford has come to visit!”
