I made up an excuse.
"It's nothing remarkable. I just thought there were stronger reasons for them not to greet each other than to do so."
"Reasons not to greet each other?"
"And I have no reason to explain him to you. Excuse me."
I slipped out of the crowd that had been listening intently. The back of my head felt prickly.
"How did she figure it out?"
"She's always buried in books, so I thought she'd be clueless about this sort of thing, but she acts like she knows everything…"
It's all thanks to reading, though.
Once I was far from the crowd, my maid lowered her voice and asked, "My lady, won't you tell me at least?"
"I guessed."
I cut her off bluntly, and she couldn't press further.
Even if I revealed that I know the original story, who would believe me?
Eight years ago, Maria's parents were deceived by a swindler promising great wealth and abandoned in the barren North, specifically in the Frosthill territory.
While her parents did all sorts of menial labor to adapt to the North, Maria was neglected and targeted by a slave trader, only to be rescued by the young master, Arthur, who happened to pass by.
From then on, it was a predictable tale.
They become friends, occasionally argue, make up with Arthur bringing snacks from the duchy, Maria reading books to the study-averse Arthur, accidentally brushing hands and both blushing…
By the time they were 16 and in a more-than-friends, less-than-lovers state, a major event occurred.
A monster crossing the fortress wall claimed Maria's mother's life.
Maria's father, losing his temper, insulted the northern duke, saying, "How can someone who can't even protect the residents be treated as a duke?"
Declaring he could no longer stay in such a barbaric place, he fled the North with his daughter.
Afterward, Maria's father entrusted her to Baron Meyer, a relative, to raise her as a lady, threatening her to forget her harsh past in the North.
Meanwhile, the Northern Duke, enraged, declared, "The South doesn't understand our sacrifices!" and forbade his son from ever associating with Southerners.
The two adolescents probably understood their fathers' positions. And, most painfully, they knew their first love could never be realized.
Five years later, Maria, debuting late in society to avoid him, reunites with her first love, who had been thinking the same.
When they met earlier, their pupils probably shook like an earthquake.
In their heads, they're likely chanting, Don't act like you know! Don't get close! But their hearts are pounding.
It's kind of cute.
And very enviable.
Didn't anyone have a crush on me? Not some arranged fiancé with whom a relationship felt like forced politeness, but someone real?
…Probably not.
"I think it's time to head home."
"Understood. I'll fetch the carriage!"
The maid ran off toward the servants at the entrance.
While she was gone, I pretended to take in the botanical garden scenery one last time, glancing around.
I had felt like someone was watching me.
Usually, when you think, It's just my imagination, it isn't.
But I couldn't find the culprit.
Whoever it is, I hope they'll just step out and say what they want.
The thought of it reminded me of my ex-boyfriend, who used to file library complaints every time we fought. How irritating.
By the time April was peacefully ending, my father brought up an uncomfortable topic at breakfast.
"Natalie, the number of suitors visiting you seems to have decreased compared to last year. What do you think about that?"
To my surprise, the nagging arrow was aimed at my sister.
But I couldn't relax. When a powder keg is targeted, I'm bound to get caught in the blast too.
The powder keg, Natalie, answered gracefully.
"It's good news for Mother. Fewer suitors mean less trouble serving tea and smiles to riffraff."
"Is this the time to speak so casually? You're already twenty-three. You must marry this year!"
Father hesitated briefly before adding,
"Of course, it has to be someone with both status and wealth!"
Beside him, Mother chimed in with a soft voice.
"Natalie, how about coming to the church with me this weekend? If you show devotion, the ladies might see you differently."
"No, thank you. I have no interest in watching you flaunt your donation pouch to the nuns under the guise of devotion."
"How can you say that? Investing in the church is for your benefit! Isn't that right, Dory?"
Now the arrow turned to me. Was I expected to side with Mother?
But I was too busy eating to reply properly.
"Mmph, jus' a sec…"
"…Dory, don't you think you've been eating too much lately?"
"No, I haven't!"
Mother frowned and turned to a maid.
"Tell the staff not to leave any snacks in Dory's room. Tighten her corset an extra inch when fitting her gown for the ball!"
"Yes, madam."
"You should control your eating from now on! A lady shouldn't gobble like a goat…"
The mood was thoroughly ruined. Natalie stood abruptly, looking irritated.
"Tell anyone who visits today that I'm not available. I'm not in the mood to entertain."
"Natalie! If it's someone with a title, you should at least meet them-"
"If you want to see a titled man humiliated in our house, go ahead and invite him."
Before leaving the dining room, Natalie whispered to me, "Dory, come to my room after you finish eating."
Why call me? Are we even close?
But my question was drowned out by Father's angry voice.
"Natalie, come back here! Natalie!"
By then, my sister had already disappeared beyond the hallway. Father clutched his forehead and sank heavily into his chair.
"Damn it. I was going to bring up the young lord."
"Oh dear, are you talking about Arthur Albion?"
"You've heard about him? That the young lord of Frosthill has debuted in society?"
"Of course! It's all anyone talks about in the salons. Last weekend, even before worship started at the church, it was the only topic."
"What do you think? As a husband for Natalie?"
So that's where this was going.
Surprisingly, Mother shook her head.
"I'm a bit skeptical. Would Natalie even want to move to the North?"
"Does it matter whether she wants to? First, we need to figure out if this marriage is even possible."
"With her looks and ambition, it might work. But being two years older than him could be an issue."
"Ha! If only she'd secured the first or second prince, we wouldn't even need to think about this! What does she have to be so smug about first thing in the morning…"
The arrow of blame soon turned to me.
"Why are you still here?"
"Huh? I'm still eating…"
"Didn't your mother tell you to stop? And before you lose your chance with the third prince-"
"Yes, yes, eating any more in this atmosphere will only make me throw it all up later!"
I clanged my spoon onto the plate and left the dining room immediately.
Father's angry voice echoed behind me.
"Dory! Why are you acting like this too?"
Why?
Ask yourselves that question!
The count and countess are seriously infuriating.
It had been three months since I started living as the daughter of this house. My animosity toward Natalie had slightly diminished during that time. With parents like theirs, how could the child turn out normal?
Dory may have grown up docile, but… it was probably not just because she was kind.
Children of aggressive parents usually evolve into two types: those who fight back, or those who quietly suppress everything.
I was the latter in my real life too.
So I feel like I understand Dory better.
'Dory, you waited and trusted Tristan not just because you're kind, huh?'
The only way for a lady of this era to gain independence is through marriage.
Dory bet her life on Tristan, like a scratch-off lottery ticket. Even knowing the odds were low, it was her only hope, so she couldn't give it up.
'It's bitter…'
Clicking my tongue inwardly, I found myself standing before Natalie's room.
"Sister, I'm here-"
"You're late. Go back to your room."
"What?"
What is this, dog training?
…Or so I thought.
At that moment, Natalie's door flung open, and maids carrying dresses burst out. One of them held a box.
Their skirts swished as they headed toward my room.
"Sister! What's all this?"
"I told you before, didn't I? Throw away those dresses of yours that aren't even fit to be flour sacks and wear mine. I've had them altered to fit your height."
"…"
Isn't her phrasing getting harsher?
Am I supposed to be grateful?
Natalie added, "Of course, some men might like a plain girl like you. So try your usual look first, and if you fail to catch anyone's eye, wear my dresses."
"What? Try what exactly?"
"You know better than I do."
No, I don't.
But Natalie's lowered lashes signaled the end of the conversation.
The door closed, and I trudged back to my room in a daze.
The maids were struggling to stuff Natalie's clothes into my wardrobe.
"How many dresses did she give me?"
"Eight in total."
That's way too many! Does she still have clothes left to wear?
The box that came with the dresses was filled with sparkling accessories. Rings and necklaces were just the basics—there were gloves and even party masks.
"My lady, would you like to try one on now?"
A maid unfolded a dress she grabbed. It spilled over with red frills reminiscent of Carmen, but while the skirt was grand, the upper half was… bare.
If I wore that, my shoulders would be completely exposed.
"Isn't there another one?"
"They're all similar in how much skin they reveal."
"…Just put them away for now."
"Yes. Honestly, Miss Natalie could've just thrown out clothes she's tired of instead of… tormenting you."
A voice filled with concern for me. But somehow, I found myself voicing the opposite opinion.
"It's not torment."
"Oh, my apologies!"
Thinking she'd overstepped, the maid covered her mouth and hurried out of the room.
Well, Natalie does deserve suspicion.
'But would she really go to such lengths just to torment her sister?'
Could it be that she actually cares for me? Or does she simply hate my clothes that much?
Knowing Natalie, the latter seems more likely.
At that moment, a maid who had stayed behind approached and whispered, "Um, my lady, a letter has arrived for you."