Chapter 3

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: A Calculated Complaint
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A sickeningly sentimental moment dragged on. My stepfather watched me, a look of surprise on his face, seemingly taken aback by my flawless command of aristocratic table manners.

Unlike my mother, who fumbled slightly when choosing the appropriate fork and knife for each course, I navigated the meal flawlessly, requiring no guidance whatsoever.

“Where did you learn such manners?”

I lied without batting an eye.

“I learned by reading books. Oh, did I do something wrong?”

“You mean you can read?”

“Yes. I enjoy reading.”

My mother asked me, her expression one of shock.

“Cisse, since when could you read?”

I deliberately adopted a sorrowful expression, bowing my head low. I mumbled as if confessing a terrible sin—all to win their pity.

“...I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, Mother. I picked it up by watching others.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We didn’t have the means. I didn’t want to see you heartbroken or struggling because of me. I’m sorry for deceiving you.”

Looking intrigued, my stepfather stroked his chin and asked me.

“How well can you read?”

“I can read most books, as long as they’re not rare editions with ancient languages mixed in.”

A look of astonishment filled my stepfather’s eyes. He was looking at me as if he were seeing a genius.

After all, to master reading on one’s own, without a tutor, was an accomplishment beyond ordinary talent. It was no wonder he was surprised.

Of course, in reality, I was not even in the same league as a genius. But I couldn't very well say, “I learned it in my past life,” could I? It was better to let them jump to their own conclusions.

“That’s incredible. But it would be better for you to receive proper instruction. What do you think?”

I beamed, as if I were overjoyed to hear those words.

“Yes. I’d love to.”

Just then, Roena chimed in with a cheerful voice.

“Could I help?”

I barely stopped myself from scowling. Clenching my fists, I fought back the violent surge of emotion.

***

Roena was well-liked by everyone. Her gentle voice and pure, bright smile always left a good impression. People sometimes gushed that if an angel were to walk the earth, it would look just like Roena. And most who said so truly believed she was a good person.

Even I, before my return, had sometimes thought her kind. Some of her actions were filled with a goodwill so profound it was almost incomprehensible.

The problem was that her ‘goodness,’ once you peeled back a layer, existed only within the confines of her own limited understanding.

I still haven’t forgotten the look she gave me during our first tea time together—that puzzled stare when I couldn’t do things as effortlessly as she could.

She likely thought her gaze was one of pity, but Roena had no idea how deeply such a look could wound someone.

She truly never realized that an act of goodwill in her own mind could appear utterly ridiculous to a third party.

Oh, the pure-white goodness of a simpleton!

Her perspective, measuring the world by her own yardstick, wounded everyone it touched, yet it possessed a strange power to condemn those who couldn't accept her goodwill with pure gratitude.

It was a bizarre phenomenon where anyone who failed to appreciate her kindness was branded as petty. I, too, was a victim of that goodwill.

Roena simply couldn’t comprehend that I, a newcomer to high society, couldn’t act with her natural ease. She never realized just how exceptional she was.

It was always I who suffered from her devastatingly simple-minded brand of malice.

A genius proficient in all things, she could not comprehend mediocrity and always stuck out like a sore thumb. She was an unpleasant disruption to the natural order of things.

So I tried to become the chisel. To be the hammer that chipped and ground down her brilliant facets until she was the same as everyone else. In the end, though, I only wore myself out and gave up.

So let’s not force the concept of ‘understanding’ on her anymore. It would only be painful for both of us. It would be impossible until she could finally see beyond her own standards.

And that much hadn't changed.

I barely held back the stomach-churning nausea and forced myself to refuse in a gentle voice.

“I appreciate the offer. But may I decline?”

“Why?”

Looking at Roena’s disappointed face, I offered a sweet smile and said.

“Because it would undoubtedly be difficult for us both.”

If we were to study together, the past would surely repeat itself. That hellish experience of being constantly compared to her, face-to-face. I wasn’t ready to face that again.

Roena, looking hurt as if I'd said something absurd, quickly retorted.

“We won’t know until we try.”

“But you don’t know how to teach someone else. It isn’t an easy task.”

“Then, couldn’t I learn while helping you, Cisse?”

“Roena, must I be blunt? I’m telling you no.”

Roena’s expression was one of visible shock. And why wouldn’t it be? She was used to being called an angel for her kindness. When had anyone ever rejected her so bluntly?

“I really want to help you, Cisse. Can’t I? Is it because you don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that. I’m merely trying to prevent a problem before it starts. My slowness would surely make you sad and frustrated. No, it might even make you angry. Then, people would point fingers and whisper, ‘That wretched stepsister came and upset our dear lady.’ I don’t have the strength to endure such treatment.”

The moment I finished, my mother let out a cry of despair and sniffled. Cupping her cheeks, her face went pale, as if she was already picturing the scene. My stepfather spoke with a stern, resolute expression.

“Who would dare say such a thing! Do not make yourself sad by imagining things that have not happened.”

“It’s not my imagination.”

I said, as if muttering to myself. But it was loud enough for everyone to hear, so all eyes turned to me.

“What makes you think it’s true? Has someone upset you? Cisse, as the man who is now your father, I swear that no one in this castle will dare to disgrace you.”

“I can tell from the attitude of the maid assigned to me.”

My throat suddenly dry, I paused to take a sip of cold water. All eyes were on me. Judging the tension in the room to be just right, I continued in a calm voice.

“The servants who don’t even greet me, and the cold water brought for my morning wash… they lead me to one conclusion: that the people of this estate do not welcome me. If washing one’s face with cold water in the morning is customary, then please, forgive my ignorance.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, I swear to God.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, my stepfather slammed his hand on the table, stood up, and roared toward the door.

“Mago! Where is the head maid?!”

Unable to believe this was happening in his own house, my stepfather couldn't control his ragged breaths. It seemed he couldn’t bear the thought that his stepdaughter was being slighted by a maid on her very first day.

He seemed particularly ashamed to face my mother, unable to even look at her properly. It made sense, as he must have always whispered words of love, promising to make her happy if only she came to him.

My mother's face was pale, and she looked dazed, as if she might faint at any moment. Seemingly unable to even imagine the insults her daughter must have endured, she pressed a hand to her chest, repeating only, “Oh my goodness.”

“Heavens. Cisse, are you alright? Why on earth would something like that happen? I simply can’t believe it.”

“Roena, I don’t lie. Surely you don’t mean to say you don’t believe me?”

“No, Cisse, that’s not it…”

I realized Roena wanted to defend the head maid, Mago. It was understandable, as Mago was like a nanny who had been with her since she was a child. After the previous countess died, she had also served as a mother figure.

So it seemed she couldn’t bear the thought that the head maid, who had always been on her side and cared for her so gently, was involved in such an unpleasant affair.

But Mago was only kind to Roena; to my mother and me, that old woman was a nightmare incarnate. The cunning fox, afraid I would steal what belonged to Roena, used the maids loyal to her to torment us.

She openly defied my mother's authority, shaking the internal order, and even ruined important events held in the Countess's name through clever tricks. And of course, she made my life miserable by comparing me to Roena.

Because of her, my mother and I could never earn the respect of others.

So I couldn't just stand by and watch Roena take Mago's side. I deliberately turned my head, showing I had no intention of continuing the conversation. As if I were angered by her actions.

Mago arrived in the hall sooner than expected. The stubborn old woman, upon arriving, bowed respectfully only to Roena and my stepfather, completely ignoring my mother and me. Fury welled up inside me at the sight, but I held it in. This wasn't the main event.

My stepfather barely acknowledged Mago's greeting and got straight to the point.

“Head Maid, did you assign a maid to Lady Cisse’s quarters?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“A problem? Is that really a question you should be asking me? A maid has insulted my daughter. How could something like this happen in my own house!”

“An insult? This is the first I’m hearing of it, my lord.”

“She brought Lady Cisse cold water for her morning wash in a dirty brass basin! Do you have any idea what an insult that was to the child?! How could you assign a maid who doesn’t even know basic protocol to a lady of the count’s family! What is this, if not a direct slight against me!”

At my stepfather's roar, Mago's face turned pale. She trembled slightly, as if afraid of his shouting.

Mago had probably never dreamed she would be interrogated over something like this.

How was I, a mere commoner, supposed to know what kind of water a noble lady uses for her wash? It's such a normal, mundane part of daily life that it would never even become gossip.

So she must have thought that if everyone just kept their mouths shut, she wouldn't get caught.

Just then, Roena shot up from her seat and took Mago's side.

“Father, please listen to Mago. There must have been some mistake! She’s the head maid who has led the staff wonderfully all this time without a single error. Isn’t that right?”

As if I had been waiting for it, I opened my mouth and chimed in with Roena.

“I agree with that. How could the person in charge of all the maids assign one to me who doesn’t even know basic protocol? But there is something I find a little strange.”

“What is it?”

My stepfather asked. Instead of answering him, I turned to Roena.

“May I ask how many years the head maid has worked here?”

“Mago has been the head maid since I was born.”

“Oh, then that makes it even stranger.”

“What are you trying to say?”

I took my eyes off Roena, looked at my stepfather, and opened my mouth to speak.