CHAPTER 1
Lunaria was dying.
Alone, on the cold and worn wooden floor.
‘Well, that’s fine. What’s the point of living longer anyway? I must have been destined for this from the moment I was born.’
She gasped as though her breath was about to stop at any moment.
Still, in her girlhood, she thought she lived a life no worse than anyone else’s.
Sometimes, she even deluded herself that the sunlight pouring down from the world was shining solely upon her.
Life twisted slowly, creeping in without her noticing, slyly dragging Lunaria into despair.
A small rural village, the manor of a baronet.
A newborn baby cried out, freshly brought into the world.
Her name was Lunaria.
As if foreseeing the harsh fate awaiting her, Lunaria could not stop crying for a long time.
The furrowed brows of the adults deepened with worry.
Before Lunaria was even old enough to recognize her surroundings, her birth mother cleared out the room and left.
In her place, a new stepmother and a half-sister entered, occupying the space as if it had always been theirs.
Lunaria grew up constantly compared to her dazzlingly beautiful younger sister, Lovelia.
But thanks to her own peculiar loveliness, all the townsfolk cherished Lunaria dearly.
“Lu, Luna. I love you. I b-believe you must feel the same as I do…”
One night, the son of a prominent local noble secretly came to the garden and shyly confessed his love.
With her cheeks flushed red, Lunaria accepted his confession.
Blue hyacinths surrounding them swayed their blooming petals as if blessing the couple’s engagement.
But around that time, the once-prosperous household began to falter.
It was her father’s business failure.
Her father and stepmother, unable to give up the extravagant life they had enjoyed, sank deeper into indulgence and gambling.
Their debts swelled endlessly.
Even the baronet title was mortgaged, leaving only the manor behind.
Lunaria, who had cherished her studies, was forced to give them up and look for work.
Because of the disgrace her parents had accumulated, even though the townsfolk felt sorry for her, none would take her in.
With no other choice, she turned her steps toward the outskirts of town.
She had to earn money to support her family, and this was her last remaining option.
There lived an elderly woman, who kept her doors locked and spoke to no one.
It was only vaguely rumored that she had come from the city with a nurse for recuperation.
Some whispered she was a highborn noble, though no one knew for sure.
“Do you need a maid?”
Lunaria, desperate, asked boldly as she managed to wedge herself into the old lady’s mansion.
It was a last plea, spoken without hope.
The elderly woman, with her back ramrod straight, merely lifted an eyebrow—and contrary to expectation, she accepted Lunaria easily.
Thus began the maid’s life of a girl who had once been a young lady.
With the money she earned, she gradually paid off a bit of the debts, covered household expenses, and even supported her sister’s studies.
Her days were far busier than her body could withstand.
Amidst such a hectic life, her relationship with her fiancé grew increasingly distant.
Though she tried to make time for him, he became more and more indifferent.
It was then that he appeared.
Frantes…
Just recalling him made her heart tingle and ache.
On a summer’s day, haloed in sunlight as he strode confidently forward.
That curious, playful look in his eyes whenever he gazed at her.
The natural nobility in his bearing that drew all eyes wherever he went.
A man who seemed never to have experienced failure in his entire life.
Frantes was the nephew of the old lady.
The townsfolk outwardly praised him, but behind closed doors, they disparaged his arrogance.
Her fiancé would flare up in rage whenever Lunaria so much as met Frantes’ eyes.
And yet, Lunaria found delight in conversing with him.
Where else in the world could she ever meet such a man again?
With nothing hidden in his heart, he could always stand tall.
That was what made him admirable.
Without warning, ruin poured down upon her head.
“I’m pregnant with Brother’s child.”
Her younger sister Lovelia had conceived her fiancé’s baby.
Lunaria was struck dumb, as if she had been slapped across the face without warning.
Her fiancé blamed Lunaria, while her sister wept pitifully.
“Do you know how lonely I was while you were busy? It’s all your fault. If you had only paid attention to me, none of this would have happened!”
“Sister, you’re my sister, so can’t you yield? I love him so much.”
Without a single regard for Lunaria’s will, one engagement was dissolved and another arranged.
Absurdities continued to pile up.
Her father, laden with immense debts, fled under the cover of night.
When moneylenders came knocking, her stepmother and sister escaped, hiding in her former fiancé’s house.
All the crushing burden was dumped squarely onto Lunaria.
Even abandoned by her family, she could not bring herself to abandon them.
Misfortune clamped down on her mercilessly, one after another.
Her employer, the old lady, finally succumbed to her long illness and passed away.
Lunaria no longer even had the strength to cry.
Within her tightly shut lips, screams clamored to be let out.
“How about marrying me?”
Startled, Lunaria stared at Frantes.
He made the unbelievable proposal with a calm face.
It was a contract marriage according to his aunt’s will, without affection, romance, or fragrance.
She wanted to accept.
But she could not.
Her father, stepmother, sister, and former fiancé would not allow it.
Above all, she didn’t want to drag him into her wretched life.
It felt as though her misfortune would spread to him like a plague.
In the end, Lunaria refused.
“If that is Miss Lunaria’s wish.”
Frantes accepted her answer without fuss, then promptly left the village.
And soon after, Lunaria entered a new engagement.
An aged count offered to pay off her debts, and her stepmother swiftly sold her off.
It was a horrid engagement.
The old count insulted her daily and struck her without restraint.
His children mocked and belittled her.
As time passed, she longed bitterly for the days she had spent in the old lady’s mansion.
‘But this is not the kind of reunion I wished for.’
At a rural noble’s banquet, she came face to face with Frantes again.
She had guessed, from his manners, that he was of noble birth.
But never had she imagined he was the famed, exalted Grand Duke Rotmeria of the Empire.
Frantes tried to say something.
But Lunaria, not knowing why, fled in a panic from the banquet hall.
The enraged old count chased after her.
He caught her in the corridor and raised his fist.
But that day, things did not go as the count wished.
For Frantes, who had followed, landed his fist squarely on the count’s face.
Commotion erupted, people gathered, and Lunaria once again ran away.
Before long, soldiers stormed the count’s manor.
The charge was tax embezzlement.
At the time, she suspected Frantes had orchestrated it.
Amid the chaos, the count’s children shouted at him.
In the quarrel, one of them struck him down.
When she came to her senses, she found a blood-soaked dagger in her own hand.
The count’s children had all vanished.
“The count is dead! Seize that woman!”
Thus began the second act of Lunaria’s life—on the run, branded a murderer.
She changed her name, wandering from place to place.
The Empire’s turbulent politics meant nothing in her suffocating struggle to survive.
Whether the Emperor passed away or the Crown Prince was exiled, what did any of it matter to Lunaria?
The beauty that had once won her praise in youth was long since worn away by hardship.
Her skin was rough and dry as bark, her eyes lifeless.
Even when she looked into a mirror, she could no longer remember what she had once looked like.
It felt as though she had always been this way.
When the pursuit finally calmed after many years, Lunaria settled temporarily in a small village.
She worked as a kitchen maid, moving from house to house where jobs were available.
Once, while cooking, she coughed up blood for the first time.
The visiting physician, kind though he was, said:
“Prepare yourself. You won’t last long.”
He diagnosed her as terminally ill—her body had been harboring the disease silently, and death was now inevitable.
She sought out a famed wizard for help, but he too only shook his head.
Not knowing why, she had no choice but to accept.
She realized for the first time how much suffering could befall a single person.
The symptoms had been with her for years, but had seemed trivial, and her life had been too full of turmoil to notice.
In the end, she simply acknowledged it.
So this is it. I’m dying.
In a way, perhaps that was for the best. Better than living like this forever…
And now, just earlier today.
She saw a face she thought she would never see again in her lifetime.
Her employer commanded the kitchen to give their utmost, for a very distinguished guest had arrived.
Lunaria served her best dish, lemon cake, at the table.
After several dishes had been brought out, the employer summoned her.
There was Frantes.
He had not changed one bit.
Even after ten years, he was still as handsome and splendid.
Only his eyes had grown firmer, and a mature calm lingered at his lips.
“The Grand Duke wishes to meet the cook who made this cake,” her employer explained.
Her heart thrashed wildly before slowly calming.
He could never recognize me. I’ve changed so much.
She thought his widening eyes upon seeing her were merely her imagination.
But then—
“Miss Lunaria.”
The voice that slipped out was filled with tenderness.
It was her name, spoken with the honorific she had long forgotten.
After all these years, she never dreamed he would still remember the Lunaria he had only known for a few months in that little village.
