The carriage arrived at a magnificent mansion. I gazed up at its towering façade, nearly intimidated by its grandeur before I even realized it.
A large carriage pulled up to the portico. The door swung open, and a man stepped out. He was handsome enough to command attention at first glance—but what truly captured my eyes was his hair. Silver as moonlight. The exact same shade as mine.
It was the first time I had ever seen anyone with hair like that.
So I blurted out:
"Are you my father?"
Even without hearing his answer, intuition guided me. That man was the father my mother had always spoken of. His eyes slowly turned toward me. The moment our gazes met, something inside my chest dropped with a heavy thump.
That man—my father.
But he didn't greet me.
"...We should start with etiquette teachers."
A cold voice reached my ears. A brown-haired man beside him glanced quickly at the servants near the gate. The doors opened soundlessly.
From the lanterns on the ceiling glittering like jewels to the plush carpet beneath our feet—the mansion smelled warm and inviting. Father strode inside without a backward glance. Lost and bewildered, I followed his footsteps.
"You're home."
A friendly voice interrupted us. A beautiful woman descending the stairs looked at me with wide, startled eyes.
Except for my mother, I had never seen such a beautiful woman.
"What about this child?"
"Hazel. You said you would never send our Ethella to the imperial palace. I needed a child to send in her place."
Words I didn't understand passed between them. Shocked, the woman fled back up the stairs.
"Hazel!"
Father followed her. Suddenly alone, I clenched my small fists. Servants appeared from nowhere, whispering among themselves.
"She has Madeleine blood, it seems. That coveted silver hair."
"What is this? I never imagined the Duke would do such a thing."
"Green eyes. Who would have thought noble Madeleine would mix with such lowly blood."
Even if I didn't fully understand, I knew their words were cruel.
Then—
Clap, clap.
Someone appeared, applauding.
"Let's all return to our posts and get back to work."
When the elderly gentleman appeared, the servants scattered immediately. The old man met my eyes.
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss. I am Albert Langchaisen, butler of House Madeleine."
His voice was polite, but his eyes did not smile.
"My name is Olivia."
"You must be tired. Allow me to guide you to your room. Anna—"
At the butler's words, an older woman approached.
"Bathe the young lady and escort her to her quarters."
That was the extent of our conversation. I had no lunch, no dinner—and no one asked if I was hungry.
I missed my mother.
---
"Her eyes are unnatural, and her mother must have been a street dancer. She's on an entirely different level from Lady Ethella."
Anna sighed as she spoke to the servants gathered around me. One of them noticed my thread anklet beside Anna.
"What's this? It's rather pretty."
"That? Is it from Turning Bell?"
"That cheap thing? No way—how tacky."
Laughing, one of them threw my anklet into the trash. Then they resumed Anna's story. Somehow, my screaming and crying yesterday was proof of my "bad nature."
Low blood shows itself.
Word spread quickly through the Duke's mansion about the new young lady and her mother. After hearing the butler's report, the Duke issued an order as if sorting through mundane affairs.
"Assign a tight-lipped nanny. Prevent unnecessary gossip."
"Yes, Your Grace."
The butler bowed his head. Tight-lipped and cheapest—those were the requirements. The rumor that this particular nanny had been dismissed for tormenting the young lady she'd previously served was irrelevant to him.
---
The brushing of my hair was gentle. I blinked with anxious eyes.
My room, decorated in pink and light blue, was pretty. No rats crawled onto my bed here. But I wasn't happy. I had nothing of my own in this place—even my anklet had been taken.
I couldn't even leave the room. The only person I ever saw was my new nanny.
"Nanny, I want to go outside today."
I said it as kindly as I could.
"No, Miss. You know why."
"Why?"
"The Duke's heart aches when he sees you."
I shrugged my thin shoulders. The nanny continued more affectionately—too affectionately.
"You know the Duchess has taken to her bed, don't you?"
I opened my eyes wide. If she meant the Duchess—was that the beautiful woman who had run upstairs?
"I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't. No—you should say, 'I didn't know.' Because of you, this noble House of Madeleine has become a laughingstock."
"What... what do you mean?"
"You didn't know this either?"
The nanny covered her mouth, looking at me with false pity. Her hands grew rougher as she combed my hair. I whimpered softly, but she only muttered that I was a poor, poor girl.
"Goodness. No one seems to be telling you the truth. Even this old nanny must be the one to enlighten you."
The nanny chuckled.
"It's because you came into this house."
My heart pounded. No. A feeble denial escaped my lips, but the nanny drove her nails deeper.
"It's all because of you, Miss."
"No..."
"Miss, I told you on the first day—this nanny never lies."
Her cunning words, smooth as a serpent's whisper, kept knocking against my heart. On that first day, she had said that. With her warm face, she had promised she would never lie to me.
That day, she had bathed me in warm water. She had served white bread, soup, and fruit I had never seen before. She had even read me children's books as I fell asleep.
Is it really me? The question kept shrinking inside me. Is it all because of me?
Confusion filled my young face. Seeing my expression, the nanny spoke sweetly, enticingly.
"This silver hair doesn't suit you at all."
"My hair?"
"Silver hair is the mark of House Madeleine. It simply doesn't belong on someone like you. It's because of this silver hair that you were brought here in the first place, isn't it?"
I couldn't understand what she meant.
"I... I'm here because I'm Father's daughter."
"No. It's all thanks to this silver hair. Do you really think you would have dared enter this house without it?"
The nanny's eyes flashed. Then she grabbed my arm painfully. I cried out, but she didn't release me.
"Should I cut this hair today?"
"Nanny—I don't want to!"
I tried to shake off her grip. This was hair my mother had always combed so carefully. I no longer had my anklet. I didn't want to lose any more traces of her.
The nanny sighed softly.
"You're so selfish, Miss. Do you want the Duke and Duchess to suffer every time they see this silver hair?"
I had been swallowing my sobs, but finally—I burst into tears.
No one comforted me. The nanny continued her persuasion. In the end, I let her cut my hair. I cried out once more, but she only laughed, saying it suited me better this way.
After that, the nanny stopped bringing me proper food. Once a day—rough barley bread and a glass of water. That was all.
Those days continued. Dust gathered in my uncleaned room. No one cared about me.
They kept me hungry. They kept me thirsty.
---
One night, the nanny didn't return.
I quietly left my room. I was so hungry. If I could find the kitchen, there would be something to eat. I had no idea where the kitchen was, but it was better than staying in my room.
But the moment I stepped into the hallway, I regretted it. The wide, silent corridor was dark and terrifying.
I walked along the wall, practically running—and fell. Normally, I would have patted my knees and gotten back up.
But not now.
Lying on the soft satin carpet, I felt like my mother might appear at any moment. I wanted to see her so desperately.
I burst into loud, wailing tears.
"Who's there?"
I gently raised my head at the beautiful voice. My vision flickered. Someone was coming toward me.
Dazzled by the sudden bright light, I was startled to see her face.
"You..."
It was the Duchess. Her lovely brown hair and warm brown eyes—yet even to me, her gaunt cheeks looked painfully thin.
The nanny's words echoed in my mind: You know the Duchess has taken to her bed, don't you?
"You fell."
"I'm sorry."
The words came out almost simultaneously. The Duchess tilted her head, confused.
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
I apologized in a voice that seemed to shrink into nothing.
"What are you sorry for?"
"You're sick. It's because of me. I'm sorry."
"Who told you that?"
"...My nanny."
The Duchess sighed softly. I bit my lip, fearing even that small sound.
But then—warmth touched the top of my head.
"Why did a child come out alone in the middle of the night?"
It was strange. The nanny had said the Duchess was ill because of me. She had said the Duchess must hate me terribly.
Yet the voice asking me was somehow... warm.
I slowly raised my head. A timid hope rose within me. The moment our eyes met, I spoke without thinking.
"I'm hungry."
As if on cue, my stomach growled loudly. At the sound, the Duchess stroked my head once more.
"Alright. You need to eat something first. Is that okay?"
I nodded. As I rose, the Duchess, who had been kneeling, straightened. She held out her hand to me.
I looked back and forth between her hand and her face with uncertain eyes.
Then the Duchess took my small hand in hers.
Her touch was so soft, so warm. It felt like something I shouldn't be allowed to hold. I tried to pull away, but she only held on tighter.
"The stairs are darker ahead. It hurts when you fall."
Her voice was warm. I followed after her with my head bowed.
I regretted leaving my room.
But I was glad I had come out.
---
Soft white bread and meat-filled soup sat on the table, along with fresh salad and golden fruit juice. Delicious food filled every inch of it—but I couldn't bring myself to pick up my fork.
The Duchess sat directly across from me. Even after she spoke, I only slightly raised my head to look at her.
"Do you not like bread?"
"I like it very much."
"Then eat. If you stay hungry, you won't grow taller."
"Eat more, little one. If your tummy stays empty, how will you grow tall later?"
Strangely, my mother's playful voice seemed to echo above the Duchess's words.
So I blindly reached out and grabbed the bread. It was the sweetest, most delicious bread I had ever tasted. My eyes stayed fixed on the food.
I never noticed whether the Duchess was looking at my bony arms, my ragged appearance, or my strangely cropped hair.
After finishing my meal, I sipped the orange juice and glanced around nervously.
"What happened to your hair?"
The Duchess spoke first. I hesitated before answering.
"I cut it."
"Who cut it like that? It looked neat when I saw you a few days ago."
"My nanny."
"Your nanny?"
"Yes."
One of the Duchess's eyebrows rose. I fidgeted with my fingers. For some reason, the Duchess seemed angry.
It was all because of me.
"...I'm sorry."
My voice was barely a whisper. I could feel her gaze, but I couldn't lift my head.
"My nanny said I should cut more. I said no, so... she only cut a little."
I should have listened when she told me to shave it all off. Still—I had wanted to keep at least some of it.
"...What did your nanny say when she asked you to cut your hair?"
"...That if my hair stays the same, it hurts both of you."
"...Did your nanny say anything else?"
"...That you're both suffering because of me. That this house has been troubled ever since I came."
A soft sigh escaped her lips. It felt heavy, piling onto my shoulders. I wanted to see what expression she was making.
At the same time, I didn't want to see. I wanted to flee to my cold room instead of this warm one. I wanted to hide somewhere no one could find me.
Then—soft hands cupped my cheeks.
I raised my head at the warmth. The Duchess was looking at me.
"Let me make something clear."
"..."
"This is not your fault, child."
"But they said it was my fault."
I mumbled. The Duchess was strange. The nanny had said everything was my fault. Yet the Duchess, who had supposedly collapsed because of me, was saying it wasn't.
I clutched the hem of my dress.
"No."
Her voice was firm. The hand gently lifting my chin was careful, tender. She wasn't laughing, but she wasn't angry either.
I bit my lip.
Apparently, my face must have looked just as shocked as when I first saw her flee up the stairs.
"Really... I didn't do anything wrong?"
At that moment, the Duchess laughed—as if she might cry.
I involuntarily fell silent.
She stroked my cheek slowly and replied.
"...Of course you're not wrong."
It was a mistake. A low voice followed, but I couldn't understand what those words meant.
I only knew that I liked this warmth I hadn't felt in so long. I liked this beautiful Duchess who told me it wasn't my fault.
Perhaps because I finally felt safe, my eyelids drooped. I tried to force my eyes open, but they kept falling shut.
I think I'll have a good dream tonight.
Dimly, I heard the Duchess's voice.
"Nanny—bring her to me. Right now."
---