Chapter 6
I sat in front of the mirror.
Behind me, a maid was carefully brushing my hair.
“…Do you like it, my lady?”
A bitter smile came to my lips.
Looking at the reflection of the maid behind me in the mirror, I felt an overwhelming urge to ask: Excuse me. It’s not like I’m going to eat you. Why are you trembling so much?
“Yes. Finish it off neatly with a ribbon.”
“Yes, understood.”
The maid’s hands moved faster.
She seemed relieved to finish quickly and leave.
Perhaps it was my cold and emotionless expression that made the household staff keep their distance, but it felt unfair, as I couldn’t help it.
“You’re done, my lady. Then… may I go attend to my duties now?”
“Go ahead. What’s next on the schedule?”
“You just need to head to the dining room in time for the meal.”
“Thank you.”
I turned my head after watching the maid’s rapidly retreating back, as if she had just seen something terrifying.
Another maid who had remained in the room flinched at the sight of me.
It was awkward. Was I really that scary and unlikable?
I tried not to look at my face in the mirror, focusing instead on the silvery hair that shimmered in the light.
I’d grown used to my hair, now long enough to reach my hips.
“But where did Lyra go?”
My exclusive maid, Lyra, hadn’t shown up. The maid I asked trembled slightly but replied calmly.
“Yes, Miss Lyra said she was going to visit Lady Rosé.”
“Rosé? I see… alright.”
Rosériel. Although we were fraternal twins and didn’t look alike, she was born an hour after me on the same day—my lovely younger sister.
She was the protagonist of the novel “The Young Lady is Sweet,” the one I had embarrassingly mistaken myself for, believing I was her.
Today was both mine and Rose’s birthday—and also the anniversary of our mother’s death.
We had just turned eight years old.
Normally, a noble family would host a grand birthday party for their daughters.
But since Mother’s death, House Hillington had been so quiet that rumors circulated about us living in seclusion.
This matched the original story I remembered.
Avoiding visitors and rarely allowing people into the mansion.
I think… the gates remained shut until the first debutante ball.
And from there—
‘The heroine meets the male lead. So my sister Rose meets Gabriel.’
I sighed and stood up.
That was still far in the future. For now, I had to go see Father and Rose.
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Clatter.
The sound of cutlery hitting the table rang out loudly.
Rose was still clumsy with table manners.
Understandable. Even if she tried her best with those little hands, it could still look awkward.
“Hehe. I’m sorry.”
“Rosériel. Isn’t it because you’re not paying attention during your etiquette lessons?”
“Daaad. But there are way too many knives and forks…”
“Rose. Didn’t I tell you not to talk like that as if you’re whining?”
Father sounded stern, but his lips trembled like someone trying to hold back a smile in front of something adorable.
Perhaps all the other maids in the dining hall were looking at the pink-haired child with the same affectionate gaze.
Chubby cheeks that seemed to squish inward and bounce back when pressed.
Lively little lips that babbled constantly.
Shiny red eyes that sparkled as if, you’d want to give her everything in your arms.
Rose was undeniably an irresistibly adorable child.
In contrast—
“…Hildea. Does the food suit your taste? I had it specially prepared with salmon, which you like.”
Father, with a stiff, obviously forced expression, asked me. The change in tone was so awkward it was almost embarrassing.
I was chewing a small piece of meat I had cut up and only nodded after swallowing.
“Yes.”
Seeing Father’s uncomfortable face, as if he didn’t know what to say and just made small talk, made me feel sorry for him.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have responded.’
He didn’t have to speak and make it awkward like that.
It was so obvious—since he’d spoken to Rose, he felt he had to speak to me too.
“It’s delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re not eating more?”
“I’m full, so I’m okay.”
“I… I see.”
Silence followed.
I wanted to speak gently, but even to my own ears, my voice sounded stiff and cold.
Seeing the deeper furrow in Father’s brow made my chest tighten.
“This isn’t right.”
Maybe I should’ve just eaten alone. I shouldn’t have come to the dining hall.
And then—
Unable to bear the chilly silence, Rose suddenly got up and tugged on Father’s clothes.
“Daaad. Forget all that boring stuff! It’s our birthday today!”
Only then did Father smile.
“Hah. Right, you were just waiting for that, weren’t you, little lady?”
“Yes!”
Her confident voice and playful gestures made everyone around burst into laughter.
I laughed too, though I quickly covered my mouth, knowing it must have looked twisted.
‘Rose is really a lovable child.’
It had been hard at first.
That my name wasn’t Rosériel, but Hildea.
That I didn’t exist in the novel “The Young Lady is Sweet,” and could disappear at any moment.
All of it…
‘I thought I was tough after all I went through in my past life.’
I was so anxious I even developed anxiety, fearing my life might shift like in my previous one.
Maybe it was when I saw Father, who never smiled at me, smiling so warmly at Rosériel?
Or when I saw the maids—normally expressionless around me—smiling fondly at the sleeping Rosériel?
Or perhaps when the mansion’s staff, who would avoid eye contact or stare at me awkwardly, waved affectionately at Rose?
I thought Lyra was mine alone, but she was also Rose’s.
“Second young lady is so frail, it’s worrying. Oh, young miss Hildea? You came because you were worried too?”
“Uh-huh. Lyra, what about Daddy?”
“His Grace came by a while ago. Planning to go see him? But he was just in your room earlier…”
“It’s fine.”
“My lady?”
“Daddy’s busy. I’m fine.”
In the original, Father was said to be cold at first—but that wasn’t what I saw.
He was awkward, but kind to Rose.
And so were the others.
I felt like I alone couldn’t blend in—unable to approach, yet unable to stay distant.
In truth, I wasn’t okay.
Rosériel had been very frail as a baby, so everyone’s attention was focused on her.
When I was left alone, the loneliness doubled. I ended up acting like a real child, throwing tantrums without meaning to.
I often clung to Lyra’s skirt.
“Lyra. Going again…?”
“I’m sorry, my lady. Young lady Rose suddenly has a fever… I’ll just check on her. Can you play with the other maids for a bit?”
“Mm. Okay.”
Maybe those small things added up—eventually, even breathing felt difficult.
I was never a cheerful baby to begin with, but I gradually stopped talking.
Because I worried how others would take my words.
Lyra was so concerned that she called a physician multiple times.
“The young lady isn’t speaking at all.”
“There’s no physical issue.”
“Then… could it be psychological?”
“That seems likely. Try not to leave her alone.”
Ironically, it was Rose who comforted me as time passed.
It was strange.
We hadn’t even seen each other before Mother died, yet my younger sister, whom I barely knew, became my solace.
Thanks to her, I felt warm again—like I could breathe.
“Ly… ra.”
“My lady…”
“I’m okay. Ro… Rose?”
As I started speaking again, Lyra felt relieved.
I think I even heard her whisper “I’m sorry” through sobs as I would drift to sleep.
In the end, I came to accept my position through resignation and familiarity.
I wasn’t really a child, after all.
‘Rose is Rose, and I’m me.’
Though I once felt jealous, as I came to love Rose, I could look at things more calmly.
What was hers wasn’t mine.
‘She will bloom brightly.’
In the end, everyone came to care for and embrace Rosériel.
That dazzling blessing made her into someone incredibly powerful.
The novel described it in a single sentence, but I witnessed exactly how that manifested in reality.
“Oh my. Lady Rosériel must really love Lady Hildea. Twin sisters really do have a strong bond!”
“She’s holding her hand so tightly and won’t let go.”
Rose was the same around me. Even when others acted awkwardly around me, Rose smiled brightly.
It felt like the starlight that shimmered in her eyes—the same color as mine—made her seem especially magical.
How could I hate a child like that?
“Hildea. Do you… not like the gift?”
“Huh? Oh, the gift?”
Ah. I blinked and looked up, lost too deeply in thought.
Father’s brow was slightly furrowed. He seemed displeased.
“You haven’t even opened your birthday present, hm.”
“I was thinking about something else. I’m sorry.”
“No, I didn’t mean for you to apologize…”
“Pardon?”
“Ahem. Never mind. But won’t you open your gift?”
“Yeah, Sister, open it already. Please?”
Rose looked up at me with sparkling, expectant eyes, while Father frowned slightly.
The maids also looked on disapprovingly, as if annoyed that I had made them wait.
And there it was—the gift in front of me.
My lips were stiff, but I tried to force a smile as I swallowed dryly.
It didn’t come out well.
Would they be hurt if I told them their stares made me nervous?
“Th… thank you, Father.”
Resignation and acceptance were familiar things.
Still, this world was much warmer than my past life.
It was like watching my favorite novel come to life before my eyes.
Even if I wasn’t loved, it would’ve been nice to just naturally belong.
“Sis, look! Sparkling hairpins! Daddy bought me five! Aren’t they pretty?”
“You’re happy because of that, huh? They suit you well.”
“Yeah! So you should open yours too, okay? Then show me what you got! Aren’t you curious? What kind of gift could it be!”
Others didn’t seem to notice, but Rose always sensed when I was down and would say something like that.
‘So sweet.’
For some reason, tears welled up, and I furrowed my brow to hold them back.
Even if they didn’t seem to like me as much as I wished, I still found them lovely and dear.
I felt like laughing and crying at the same time.
With trembling hands, I opened the box, and inside was…
