Chapter 12
Lynn sniffled and put on her most pitiful expression as she whined softly.
“I don’t want to go to the Grand Temple of Pindias, Grandfather! I know it was wrong to pick and eat the fruit so recklessly. If I must be punished, I’ll accept it… but please, not Pindias…”
“For someone who claims to understand her wrongdoing, your voice certainly carries.”
His words were sharp and stern.
“Can’t he just let it slide?”
Lynn obediently slumped her shoulders as expected, pretending to shrink with guilt. Then Jihad’s cold voice cut through the silence.
“What exactly were you thinking when you picked that fruit?”
“I read in a book that it was sweet…”
“So? Was it sweet when you tasted it?”
“I don’t really… remember.”
“You’re saying you risked eating it just out of curiosity?”
“Yes…”
Her weak response hung in the air. The Grand Duke shook his head.
“Then why ask, Jihad?”
“She wandered into a greenhouse she never visits and caused an incident—and her reason is curiosity about the taste? That explanation doesn’t add up.”
Ugh… I hate perceptive people like him.
Even Lynn herself didn’t fully understand why she had done it.
“…So that happened while I was away.” The Grand Duke let out a long sigh. “Yana, how is your health now? Are you feeling any better?”
“Not quite…”
“Listen carefully. The person who has taken care of you like a parent all this time wasn’t me, or Jihad, or Gregory—it was Roman. Now Roman has decided to send you to Pindias for discipline. No one else can intervene.”
In other words, there was no justifiable reason strong enough to override Roman’s decision.
“The head of House Tusslena is such an old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud.”
Still, for a noble from a house like this, he wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
It meant if she could present a proper reason, there was a chance to change the outcome.
“I’ll speak to Roman and ask that your departure be postponed. But nothing more. Remember, this is something you brought upon yourself, Yana.”
“I’m sorr—”
The moment she tried to finish her apology, the world suddenly tilted.
Huh…?
Her vision spun, and her body lost balance.
Even if she had been pretending to be sick, this fainting spell came far too abruptly.
She recalled the aura she had used earlier at the market. Could it have pushed her already fragile body past its limits?
“Ugh… this weak body of mine.”
“Yana!”
Jihad’s voice sounded close, full of concern.
Lynn closed her eyes.
That made the third time she’d fainted.
That night, in her dream, Yana found herself silently crouching at the end of a corridor.
The sky was soaked in a deep crimson hue as the sun set over the quiet evening. Not far away, she could hear two adults whispering in hushed but distinct voices.
“What? That can’t be right. You’re saying Lady Yana’s name was submitted in her place? But wasn’t the fire in the training hall caused by the second vassal’s daughter? There must be witnesses!”
“Lord Roman will take care of that part. In any case, the incident is going to be concluded as Lady Yana’s mistake. Please refrain from speaking about it further.”
Yana bit her lower lip and buried her face between her knees. No matter how hard she tried not to cry, her nose stung.
“This is so unfair… Lady Yana didn’t do anything wrong, yet she’s taking all the blame.”
“But once everyone stays silent, even an unjust verdict becomes the truth.”
“…”
“Listen—just once. You’re new to Tusslena, so you may not understand yet… but Lady Ninabel is Lord Roman’s only daughter. Born with powerful holy energy, she’s already considered one of the future leaders of Tusslena. She’s bound to face many enemies in the future. It’s our responsibility to protect her. Any potential weakness must be eliminated early on.”
“But someone was injured in that fire…”
“Yes, but it was still a child’s mistake, wasn’t it? The Grand Duke will be lenient. It wasn’t done intentionally. And considering she’s a child who lost her parents early on, people will be understanding.”
“…”
“Come now. The sun’s about to set. Let’s go have a drink. It doesn’t feel great, but there’s no need for you to carry guilt over this.”
After the two men left, Yana stayed still for a long while.
Eventually, she wiped away her tears and runny nose, stood up, and walked forward—head held high.
Today was the day Yana was to keep her promise with the second wife—to bring her a landscape painting of the annex garden. As proof of that promise, Yana held in her hand a piece of paper filled with the lush, vibrant colors of summer.
Honestly, she wasn’t in the mood to show anyone a painting like this right now.
Even so, Yana wanted to keep her word. Breaking a promise and acting selfishly out of emotion was something adults did—not what she wanted to become.
It was then that she heard it.
“Hic… Hrk…”
The soft sound of someone crying made Yana pause in front of the door.
Peeking through the slightly open gap, she saw two figures inside. One was the second wife. The other was her daughter—and Yana’s cousin—Ninabel.
The two looked like they’d been stamped from the same mold. Anyone would immediately recognize them as mother and daughter. The woman, with her blonde hair neatly tied up, gently comforted the girl beside her, who shared the same golden hair.
“My sweet darling Ninabel, it’s all right now. Stop crying. No one will blame you, I promise.”
“But Mother… I’m scared. I didn’t do it on purpose… it was really just a mistake.”
“Of course, darling! No one will even see it as your fault anymore.”
“But… people saw what happened. What if they go around saying it was my fault? I’m a smart and kind young lady, but… what if His Grace or the others think I’m stupid…?”
“Shhh, don’t worry about that. Just like always, everyone will pretend they didn’t see a thing. I promise, sweetheart.”
Ninabel, who had been sobbing into her mother’s arms, cautiously peeked out.
“…Even Yana?”
“Of course. In fact, Yana will probably be happy to take the blame for you. What could be more meaningful than protecting your beautiful smile, my dear Ninabel?”
Crunch.
The paper in Yana’s hand—her carefully drawn landscape—was crushed in her tightening grip.
She closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again. Slowly, she stepped back from the door. Her footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, hurried and uneven.
But no one called after her.
Not a single person.
In the darkness, Lynn opened her eyes.
She slowly recalled the memory Yana’s body had shown her.
Her verdict on the past was brief.
“A puppet.”
Yana had been nothing more than a puppet to the second wife and her husband.
A stand-in—to take the blame for their daughter Ninabel’s faults and misdeeds. Inside the little world ruled by Roman, Yana had been completely isolated.
Lynn was reminded once again of just how powerless Yana truly was.
Unlike Lynn, who had once roamed the continent wielding a sword, Yana had spent her life trapped behind the thick walls built by adults, endlessly sacrificed.
“And I thought simply delaying her trip to Pindias was an accomplishment.”
In truth, Tusslena might be an even worse hell than that place.
“Yana will probably be happy to take the punishment for our sweet Ninabel. What could be more fulfilling than preserving that lovely smile of hers?”
Two pasts overlapped.
“Stop crying. Lynn will understand how much you sacrificed to protect yourself.”
“She will, won’t she? Lynn will understand, at least… right?”
They echoed in the same voice, resounding in Lynn’s mind.
“And considering she’s just a child who lost her parents early on… everyone will understand.”
Lynn had learned something from the past.
“You’re an orphan, aren’t you?”
In the end, the world leaves you to stand alone.
But paradoxically, surviving in such a world meant having someone to use. Just like she had used Sabrina and Theon. Just like Roman and his pawns had done.
“…Yeah. I can’t do this alone.”
In this wretched house, Yana needed allies.
And if there was one person worth choosing, it would be the Grand Duke himself. She needed to build a connection with him—something deeper than a cold, distant relationship between grandfather and granddaughter.
“Olga! Are you there? How long was I asl—”
“Olga?”
Lynn froze mid-sentence at the sound of a cold male voice.
Startled, she slowly turned her head—and saw a man sitting beside a glowing yellow lamp. His dark hair was tousled, and he wore comfortable indoor clothes, flipping through a book as he spoke.
“There’s no one here by that name.”
“…Uncle Jihad?”
