2. The Cruel Family
The next morning, sunlight poured down with dazzling brilliance. It was as if even the heavens themselves were blessing Grand Duke Theodor’s homecoming, bathing the streets in an almost unnatural glow. Before the sun had fully risen, a maid burst into Kayla’s room. She threw back the blankets with brusque hands and shouted in a sharp, cutting voice.
“Wake up! I said, wake up!”
Kayla rubbed her eyes and rose slowly, her movements sluggish. Her pallid face and swollen eyes drew a sharp click of the tongue from the maid, who muttered in disapproval.
“Good grief… crying again? And on a day like today, no less! What are you thinking, making your face look like this?”
Kayla quickly turned her head, offering a hurried excuse.
“N-No, it’s nothing. I just… didn’t sleep well.”
“You might as well splash your face with cold water. The mistress would be delighted to see you like this!”
The maid’s harsh words pierced Kayla like thorns, but she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. She couldn’t summon anger. Not now. That look, the very way she bore herself, reminded her so painfully of her mother, Lea. In Kayla’s childhood, Lea had never once scolded her. Even when Kayla’s clothes were dirtied in a scuffle with other children on the street, her mother would smile, pressing a single coin into her hand before sending her on her way. Yet strangely, Kayla had never truly expressed anger toward anyone. It was not mere suppression—it was her nature, an innate, almost clerical disposition.
“Be kinder to those who are lower than you.”
Her mother’s words echoed in her ears today with unusual clarity. Without them, Kayla might have already crumbled countless times over.
“Come on! It’ll take ages if you dawdle dressing up!”
Kayla splashed her face with the cold water the maid had brought, trying to ease the swelling around her eyes. Even in summer, plunging her hands into freezing water at dawn was torturous. Her fingertips turned red, but she endured it; better than facing Joanna’s wrath.
“Get up! There’s no time to waste!”
The maid snatched the basin away, and Kayla, rubbing her cold hands, faced the mirror. The maid stripped off last night’s dress and helped her into a new gown, yanking Kayla’s hair upward and braiding it roughly.
“Gotta make the hair shine too, right?”
Soon, the blue silk gown hugged her figure, and her makeup was nearly complete. Just as the red tint touched her lips, her stepmother, Joanna, entered the room. A mocking smile played across her face.
“Not bad, after all! At least your face isn’t entirely useless—wouldn’t want to waste even that, would we? If not for that, you’d never earn a living! You’d better marry soon and start being useful to us, don’t you think?”
Golden hair like grains of sunlight, skin like polished ivory, eyes deep and blue as the sea—the lavish dress highlighted every feature. Yet Kayla instinctively drew her shoulders inward at the revealing cut of the gown. Even in summer, she always wore long sleeves to conceal the scars scattered across her body. Standing before the mirror, she felt her chest tighten; she couldn’t summon the courage to meet her own reflection and quickly turned away.
“Do well today if you want to escape from here… just today.”
Joanna tapped Kayla’s cheek lightly, almost caressingly, then turned to the maid with a sharp command.
“Get ready to leave! At this rate, we won’t even see the Grand Duke!”
Kayla could not understand why she had to be so elaborately dressed for the Duke’s homecoming. If the goal was to attract attention, it seemed a foolish calculation—no single gown could outshine the masses. A foreboding sense pressed on her chest as she climbed into the carriage with the Baron, her stepmother, and Neville.
The streets of the Theoran Empire’s capital were already packed beyond comprehension. Crowds swarmed in anticipation, cheering the return of the Black Knights and Grand Duke Theodor. Originally expected to take ten years, the northern campaign had concluded in just three, cementing him as a hero of the empire. The Black Knights, a symbol of fear and reverence, led the procession, while the fervor of the masses only grew, eager for a glimpse of the Grand Duke himself.
“Long live Grand Duke Theodor! Long live the Black Knights!”
“You are magnificent, Your Grace!”
“Long live the Theoran Empire!”
The thunderous cheers shook the streets. Joanna ushered Kayla from the carriage, pushing through the throng. Kayla was jostled and buffeted, barely able to catch a breath. When she finally lifted her head, a figure on a black horse came into view. Black uniform adorned with golden embroidery, broad, imposing shoulders, and a sharp jawline—he was not just handsome; he commanded presence. The more clearly she saw him, the louder the ladies’ cheers became.
“Oh! If only I could speak to the Grand Duke…”
With every thunder of the horse’s hooves, Kayla’s heart leapt violently. Her whole body froze, and an unexplainable tremor rose from within her. The spectacle, the roaring crowd, and the Duke’s overwhelming presence made her feel as if reality itself had vanished.
That… that is Grand Duke Theodor.
Lost in his aura, she barely registered Joanna leaning close, a wicked smile on her lips.
“Listen carefully, Kayla. Do well here, and you’ll catch the Duke’s eye. But make a mistake…”
Joanna whispered, her lips nearly brushing Kayla’s ear.
“…and you’ll die.”
“W-What?”
Before Kayla could respond, Joanna merely smiled and shoved her roughly from behind.
“Ah!”
The sudden push sent Kayla tumbling toward Theodor’s horse. The massive animal snorted, lifting a foreleg in surprise, its enormous hoof swinging just above her head. The crowd’s screams mingled in panic.
“W-watch out!”
“Ah! No!”
Kayla could not move. Rooted to the spot as if the earth had swallowed her, there was no time to flee. A massive shadow loomed over her—the shadow of death itself.
