“What is the meaning of this? Remove him from here immediately!”
The employees exchanged wary glances, then averted their eyes, unwilling to challenge the Count. They had reviewed the document, bearing the lawyer’s signature and seal, and heard enough to understand that aligning with the Count would likely result in their own eviction from the mansion.
“You… you…”
Rihannan, silently observing, finally spoke, “Escort the Count and his child out with courtesy.”
As Rihannan’s voice resonated, a few sturdy servants sprang into action. The Count seemed to grasp his new reality as he was forcibly ushered away.
“Ri… Rihannan! How heartless you are!”
“Do not fret, Father. You shall receive a modest pension.” Her voice, devoid of warmth, carried a chilling edge. “It may not be sufficient, but it will sustain you, provide a roof over your head. I am still your daughter… regardless…”
“Rihannan!”
Ignoring the Count’s piercing cries, Rihannan descended the staircase at a deliberate pace. And there stood Leticia, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Rihannan halted before her.
Leticia’s voice trembled. “Uwuu… sister…”
Rihannan emitted a cold laugh.
“Sister… sister…”
The once radiant smile, akin to blooming white flowers, withered as an icy chill permeated the air.
“Who granted you permission to address me as sister?”
Leticia’s eyes welled up with tears. She abruptly knelt, clasping her hands together, and wept. “Lady Rihannan, please allow me to remain here. I… I do not wish to return to the orphanage. I will do anything, anything! Please do not cast me out! Whatever you ask, I will comply. What say you…?”
Rihannan peered down at Leticia, devoid of emotion. Perhaps this child remained innocent, as all children do. She had not committed any wrongdoings, at least not in the present moment.
Both she and Rihannan were products of their parents’ selfishness, yet…
Rihannan bore no responsibility for Leticia being an illegitimate child.
No, it was their parents who inflicted damage upon her.
Their selfishness knew no bounds.
Therefore, Rihannan believed she should strive to accept Leticia as her own blood, to the best of her ability. Leticia was innocent in this turmoil, a victim of selfish choices, but…
“That dress suits you.”
At Rihannan’s sudden comment, Leticia glanced down at her dress—a garment of silk, the first luxurious clothing she had ever worn. It felt like heaven, a tangible reminder that she had escaped the harsh realities of her previous existence. Prior to this, she had always donned rough, patched attire as her daily garb.
“It’s the only dress my mother ever made for me, and it holds great sentimental value. And now, you wear it.”
Only then did Leticia comprehend that something was amiss.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know… It’s the only dress Father gave me…”
“The only thing you will take from me is the dress you now wear.”
Leticia’s eyes, brimming with sorrow, met Rihannan’s gaze.
“Other than that, you shall receive nothing from me. If you desire something, work for it yourself.”
Leticia’s lips quivered. “Why…”
Leticia understood the implication.
Rihannan had been blessed with everything since birth, while she herself, despite sharing the same father, remained a mere commoner, an illegitimate child.
It was unjust.
She could have had it all.
So why did Rihannan and her mother strip away what could have rightfully been hers?
Why?
“You shall not return to the orphanage, I highly doubt it. Father will care for you. And just as I had hoped, the two of you can spend the rest of your lives together.”
Leticia’s face contorted. Soon after, a venomous and resentful glare was cast in Rihannan’s direction.
In the face of such hostility, Rihannan offered a bitter smile. In the past, she had acknowledged Leticia and attempted to share her possessions, but in the end, she had been accused of stealing everything.
Perhaps altering the past was not so simple, but despite that, Leticia’s hatred towards her remained unwavering.
“Escort them out. Expel them,” Rihannan commanded, her voice carrying the weight of authority.
With her words spoken, the two intruders were promptly ejected from the premises.
Rihannan knew well that this was only the beginning. Her father would undoubtedly rally his resources, seeking to reclaim the estate. However, he would soon discover the futility of resistance.
“Mary, let’s attend to your injuries. Did it hurt?” Rihannan embraced Mary warmly before turning her attention to Jeffrey. “Jeffrey, I would like to speak with you after we attend to Mary.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Jeffrey replied deferentially.
Rihannan took Mary’s hand in her small, delicate one and led her into her chamber. It resembled a scene of a child dragging a large, plush bear.
“Mary, why did you do that?” Rihannan inquired, her small hand applying a cool towel to Mary’s cheeks.
“Do what?” Mary questioned, her tone laden with confusion.
“Why did you allow yourself to be hurt? Like a fool…”
“You are but a young girl, Miss. Fragile and delicate. If the Count had truly struck you, you might have perished, and he would have faced… I preferred to take the risk and endure a few days of sickness.”
Rihannan regarded Mary with a mixture of affection and anguish. Mary possessed a pure and kind-hearted nature, freely bestowing her goodness upon others. To Rihannan, it was something truly special.
“Mary, would you accompany me to Crichton?” Rihannan’s sudden proposition widened Mary’s eyes in surprise.
“What? Why such a sudden decision?”
“I intend to depart for Crichton as soon as possible. Will you join me?”
Mary had spent the majority of her life as a maid, an orphan who had been offered an opportunity to work in the mansion. Over time, she had grown fond of Rihannan, coming to care for her deeply.
“You need not accept my offer. You can remain here and continue your service in the mansion if you so desire. I can provide you with a letter of recommendation as well,” Rihannan explained.
Mary, being an Arundell native and not from Crichton, faced the difficulty of leaving her homeland. Rihannan held no lofty expectations, fully aware that Mary would likely choose to stay at the mansion. Yet, much to her surprise, Mary responded to Rihannan’s cautious suggestion without hesitation.
“What nonsense are you spouting, Miss? Wherever you go, I will follow.”
“…Truly?”
Mary nodded unwaveringly. “Yes. I have no family here. Thanks to your late mother, I had the privilege of serving you. I would gladly accompany you, if you will have me.”
A radiant, carefree smile blossomed across Rihannan’s face—a smile that Mary had not seen for a long time. In turn, Mary smiled back, but then voiced a worrisome thought. “However, should we not inform the Queen first?”
Hertia Cesca, Queen of Arundell. The Queen of Arundell and Rihannan’s mother’s cousin, as well as Rihannan’s godmother.
“Yes… You’re right…”
“So, before we depart, we should inform the Queen,” Mary suggested.
Rihannan had accompanied her mother to the royal palace on several occasions. During those visits, she had found the Queen to be an intimidating figure—one who had personally leapt into battlefields strewn with corpses and bloodshed to reclaim the throne. The Queen had also quelled the rebellious ambitions of the aristocracy that sought to overthrow her once she ascended to power.
Arundell was renowned for its strength and might, yet burdened by an antiquated system. The Council of Nobility, with each noble representing a region, held more power than the monarch. While the world around them progressed toward centralization and formidable governance, Arundell remained stagnant, clinging to its outdated structure.
One person who had sought to alter Arundell’s bleak destiny was Queen Hertia’s father, Edgar II. Due to his progressive ideals, he had faced countless conflicts with the nobility throughout his reign, struggles that continued until his demise.
During that time, the nobles had attempted to undermine Queen Hertia’s rule and instead crown her cousin, fearing that she would fulfill her father’s vision.
In a moment of compromise, Hertia had willingly abdicated the throne, on the condition that her son would succeed it. The power of the diminished aristocracy appeared to regain its momentum, but their hopes were shattered when the young King passed away prematurely.
Taking advantage of the instability, the nobles once again conspired against Hertia, abandoning the previous agreement and plotting to install one of her cousin’s sons as the next monarch. Their scheme remained concealed, poised for success, but…
“What is the meaning of this? Remove him from here immediately!”
The employees exchanged wary glances, then averted their eyes, unwilling to challenge the Count. They had reviewed the document, bearing the lawyer’s signature and seal, and heard enough to understand that aligning with the Count would likely result in their own eviction from the mansion.
“You… you…”
Rihannan, silently observing, finally spoke, “Escort the Count and his child out with courtesy.”
As Rihannan’s voice resonated, a few sturdy servants sprang into action. The Count seemed to grasp his new reality as he was forcibly ushered away.
“Ri… Rihannan! How heartless you are!”
“Do not fret, Father. You shall receive a modest pension.” Her voice, devoid of warmth, carried a chilling edge. “It may not be sufficient, but it will sustain you, provide a roof over your head. I am still your daughter… regardless…”
“Rihannan!”
Ignoring the Count’s piercing cries, Rihannan descended the staircase at a deliberate pace. And there stood Leticia, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Rihannan halted before her.
Leticia’s voice trembled. “Uwuu… sister…”
Rihannan emitted a cold laugh.
“Sister… sister…”
The once radiant smile, akin to blooming white flowers, withered as an icy chill permeated the air.
“Who granted you permission to address me as sister?”
Leticia’s eyes welled up with tears. She abruptly knelt, clasping her hands together, and wept. “Lady Rihannan, please allow me to remain here. I… I do not wish to return to the orphanage. I will do anything, anything! Please do not cast me out! Whatever you ask, I will comply. What say you…?”
Rihannan peered down at Leticia, devoid of emotion. Perhaps this child remained innocent, as all children do. She had not committed any wrongdoings, at least not in the present moment.
Both she and Rihannan were products of their parents’ selfishness, yet…
Rihannan bore no responsibility for Leticia being an illegitimate child.
No, it was their parents who inflicted damage upon her.
Their selfishness knew no bounds.
Therefore, Rihannan believed she should strive to accept Leticia as her own blood, to the best of her ability. Leticia was innocent in this turmoil, a victim of selfish choices, but…
“That dress suits you.”
At Rihannan’s sudden comment, Leticia glanced down at her dress—a garment of silk, the first luxurious clothing she had ever worn. It felt like heaven, a tangible reminder that she had escaped the harsh realities of her previous existence. Prior to this, she had always donned rough, patched attire as her daily garb.
“It’s the only dress my mother ever made for me, and it holds great sentimental value. And now, you wear it.”
Only then did Leticia comprehend that something was amiss.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know… It’s the only dress Father gave me…”
“The only thing you will take from me is the dress you now wear.”
Leticia’s eyes, brimming with sorrow, met Rihannan’s gaze.
“Other than that, you shall receive nothing from me. If you desire something, work for it yourself.”
Leticia’s lips quivered. “Why…”
Leticia understood the implication.
Rihannan had been blessed with everything since birth, while she herself, despite sharing the same father, remained a mere commoner, an illegitimate child.
It was unjust.
She could have had it all.
So why did Rihannan and her mother strip away what could have rightfully been hers?
Why?
“You shall not return to the orphanage, I highly doubt it. Father will care for you. And just as I had hoped, the two of you can spend the rest of your lives together.”
Leticia’s face contorted. Soon after, a venomous and resentful glare was cast in Rihannan’s direction.
In the face of such hostility, Rihannan offered a bitter smile. In the past, she had acknowledged Leticia and attempted to share her possessions, but in the end, she had been accused of stealing everything.
Perhaps altering the past was not so simple, but despite that, Leticia’s hatred towards her remained unwavering.
“Escort them out. Expel them,” Rihannan commanded, her voice carrying the weight of authority.
With her words spoken, the two intruders were promptly ejected from the premises.
Rihannan knew well that this was only the beginning. Her father would undoubtedly rally his resources, seeking to reclaim the estate. However, he would soon discover the futility of resistance.
“Mary, let’s attend to your injuries. Did it hurt?” Rihannan embraced Mary warmly before turning her attention to Jeffrey. “Jeffrey, I would like to speak with you after we attend to Mary.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Jeffrey replied deferentially.
Rihannan took Mary’s hand in her small, delicate one and led her into her chamber. It resembled a scene of a child dragging a large, plush bear.
“Mary, why did you do that?” Rihannan inquired, her small hand applying a cool towel to Mary’s cheeks.
“Do what?” Mary questioned, her tone laden with confusion.
“Why did you allow yourself to be hurt? Like a fool…”
“You are but a young girl, Miss. Fragile and delicate. If the Count had truly struck you, you might have perished, and he would have faced… I preferred to take the risk and endure a few days of sickness.”
Rihannan regarded Mary with a mixture of affection and anguish. Mary possessed a pure and kind-hearted nature, freely bestowing her goodness upon others. To Rihannan, it was something truly special.
“Mary, would you accompany me to Crichton?” Rihannan’s sudden proposition widened Mary’s eyes in surprise.
“What? Why such a sudden decision?”
“I intend to depart for Crichton as soon as possible. Will you join me?”
Mary had spent the majority of her life as a maid, an orphan who had been offered an opportunity to work in the mansion. Over time, she had grown fond of Rihannan, coming to care for her deeply.
“You need not accept my offer. You can remain here and continue your service in the mansion if you so desire. I can provide you with a letter of recommendation as well,” Rihannan explained.
Mary, being an Arundell native and not from Crichton, faced the difficulty of leaving her homeland. Rihannan held no lofty expectations, fully aware that Mary would likely choose to stay at the mansion. Yet, much to her surprise, Mary responded to Rihannan’s cautious suggestion without hesitation.
“What nonsense are you spouting, Miss? Wherever you go, I will follow.”
“…Truly?”
Mary nodded unwaveringly. “Yes. I have no family here. Thanks to your late mother, I had the privilege of serving you. I would gladly accompany you, if you will have me.”
A radiant, carefree smile blossomed across Rihannan’s face—a smile that Mary had not seen for a long time. In turn, Mary smiled back, but then voiced a worrisome thought. “However, should we not inform the Queen first?”
Hertia Cesca, Queen of Arundell. The Queen of Arundell and Rihannan’s mother’s cousin, as well as Rihannan’s godmother.
“Yes… You’re right…”
“So, before we depart, we should inform the Queen,” Mary suggested.
Rihannan had accompanied her mother to the royal palace on several occasions. During those visits, she had found the Queen to be an intimidating figure—one who had personally leapt into battlefields strewn with corpses and bloodshed to reclaim the throne. The Queen had also quelled the rebellious ambitions of the aristocracy that sought to overthrow her once she ascended to power.
Arundell was renowned for its strength and might, yet burdened by an antiquated system. The Council of Nobility, with each noble representing a region, held more power than the monarch. While the world around them progressed toward centralization and formidable governance, Arundell remained stagnant, clinging to its outdated structure.
One person who had sought to alter Arundell’s bleak destiny was Queen Hertia’s father, Edgar II. Due to his progressive ideals, he had faced countless conflicts with the nobility throughout his reign, struggles that continued until his demise.
During that time, the nobles had attempted to undermine Queen Hertia’s rule and instead crown her cousin, fearing that she would fulfill her father’s vision.
In a moment of compromise, Hertia had willingly abdicated the throne, on the condition that her son would succeed it. The power of the diminished aristocracy appeared to regain its momentum, but their hopes were shattered when the young King passed away prematurely.
Taking advantage of the instability, the nobles once again conspired against Hertia, abandoning the previous agreement and plotting to install one of her cousin’s sons as the next monarch. Their scheme remained concealed, poised for success, but…
