FEFR 00

As she climbed the steep stairs, Lanjé swallowed a sigh and her irritation.

She had searched, hoping she was wrong—but of course, it was here.

The attic where she had lived until the age of sixteen, now occupied by her half-sister.

No one could have predicted this turn of events.

No matter how clever someone might be, no one could have foreseen that Lanjé would take the main room of the mansion while Erna Swanhilde would be banished to the attic.

Just as no one had realized that, long ago, Ludia Baer had switched the children.

‘And even more so…’

No, never mind. Lanjé shook her head firmly.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell on the reasons. She adjusted her grip on her bag and opened the attic door.

Clutching a thin blanket, Erna looked around the attic.

A rattling, slanted window. The small desk beneath it and the chair without a backrest. A lopsided drawer propped up with a block of wood. A wardrobe covered with a torn cloth instead of a door. Even the creaky bed that made noise whenever she moved.

Though she’d spent two days in this room, it was the first time she’d examined the furniture and layout in detail.

‘I can’t keep living like this.’

She turned her head. Near the stove in the middle of the room sat the same pile of coal a servant had brought on the first day. Had the weather not been unusually mild, she might have frozen to death.

‘It’s cold tonight.’

The wintry January air gave her the courage to pick up a match.

But just having courage didn’t mean she knew what to do next. Erna didn’t know how to light the stove properly.

“Ugh… Hic… Huurgh…”

In the end, Erna burst into tears.

Suddenly, she recalled an old story her nanny used to tell.

Yes. About how cruel fairies or witches would swap their own children with human babies. The fake children were weak and useless, so if they were thrown out, the fairies would take them back.

Erna felt the story uncannily mirrored her situation.

About sixteen years ago, Count Swanhilde’s eldest son had committed an outrageous act.

Not only had his wife and his maid become pregnant around the same time—he had the audacity to die before either gave birth.

The misfortune didn’t end there.

A week after the maid gave birth to a daughter in the annex, the wife died during childbirth.

Fortunately, the baby survived.

The two daughters were raised in entirely different circumstances.

Erna Swanhilde, the legitimate daughter who had lost both parents, was raised in the main house’s warmest room, surrounded by soft and precious things.

Lanjé Baer, the maid’s illegitimate child, lived with her mother in the attic of the annex. She had to care for herself while doing chores.

Erna often watched Lanjé from a distance. She could still remember seeing her half-sister hauling a large laundry basket.

With her frail body, Erna had never once stepped outside the estate.

She was far too weak to even be considered as an heir. That role had long since fallen to her uncle and cousin. Finding a suitable marriage prospect was unlikely, too.

Erna used Lanjé’s existence to console herself.

Unlike her sister, she was the count’s legitimate child—that pride was what sustained her identity.

But now, even that pathetic sense of superiority had crumbled.

The crime committed by Ludia Baer, the maid, had come to light.

Erna didn’t know exactly how the truth was revealed.

All she remembered was her grandfather suddenly arriving, pricking her finger to draw blood, and delivering the news:

Ludia had switched her own child with the legitimate one.

‘So I was the fake all along.’

The realization felt like tumbling down a staircase with uneven steps—dizzying and nauseating.

‘If they come looking for me tomorrow…’

Erna was slowly dying in this worn-out attic.

‘Will they look for me?’

Would her grandfather mourn her, even a little? No—he probably wouldn’t spare even a corner in the family cemetery.

Erna buried her face in her knees, lost in her spiral of despair, and didn’t notice the door opening or the approaching shadow.

“What the heck? Why’s it so cold in here?”

The annoyed but casual voice pierced her ears.

Erna’s head shot up.

A girl stood a few steps away, holding a candlestick in one hand and a large bag in the other.

“…Lanjé?”

She asked hesitantly, confused by the unfamiliar hair color.

Lanjé had always worn a headscarf, but her natural hair—like Erna’s—had been golden, almost brown.

But now, under the flickering candlelight, her hair was a pale flaxen color.

‘It faded.’

For someone only sixteen, the change seemed too early. Erna blinked in a daze.

Unconcerned with Erna’s emotions, Lanjé strode across the room, set the candlestick and bag on the desk, and said:

“Why didn’t you light the stove?”

Her sharp tone surprisingly lacked malice. She was busy with something, and her concern for Erna was minimal—if it existed at all.

“You don’t know how to? Well, I guess that makes sense…”

She concluded on her own without waiting for a reply.

Erna, who didn’t deny the truth, was met with a brief stare from Lanjé, who then picked up the coal bucket. Soon, warmth filled the room.

“No one helped you? Did you even eat anything?”

Erna remained silent.

Lanjé looked frustrated with her lack of response.

“Not going to answer? What’s your problem?”

Her voice softened, genuinely curious rather than confrontational. But that kindness only fueled Erna’s resentment.

“What business is it of yours?!”

Erna knew it was unfair to lash out at Lanjé—but she couldn’t stop.

“Whether I freeze or starve, what does it matter to you?! Why did you even come? To mock me? Or to confront me?”

Lanjé frowned and answered:

“What are you talking about? I was worried about you…”

“Worried?”

Erna’s chest tightened. Her shoulders trembled—her frail body couldn’t handle the emotion.

“You’re saying you were worried about me?”

She doubted Lanjé’s sincerity.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Why shouldn’t I be worried? You’re sick. You don’t even know how to light a fire.”

“That’s not the point! Aren’t you even angry?!”

Lanjé still looked baffled.

Erna shouted with a flushed face:

“My birth mother switched us! Because of that, you spent sixteen years doing chores! You lived in this attic all that time! Now the truth finally comes out and you get your rightful place, and you—”

“You need to calm down. You’re going to pass out…”

Erna ignored her.

“And now, after just two days, you’re seriously worried about me? You’d have to be insane to feel that way!”

Even though her rational mind told her to stop, she couldn’t.

She knew that if Lanjé had truly gone mad and chosen kindness, then she herself was shameless.

‘What right do I have to say all this?’

As Erna turned pale in the silence, Lanjé calmly gazed out the window.

Nothing but darkness lay beyond the glass.

Erna began to feel afraid. Lanjé still hadn’t gotten angry.

Her faded hair color, her unsettling composure—they were too different from how Erna remembered her.

‘Maybe… this is all a dream.’

Yes. If it wasn’t a dream, why else would Lanjé have come to see her?

But unaware of Erna’s thoughts, Lanjé resumed the conversation.

“Do I really deserve that kind of talk just for worrying about you?”

“If you were normal, you wouldn’t be worrying about someone who’s practically your enemy.”

“Enemy?”

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have suffered all those years.”

To Erna’s growing gloom, Lanjé responded quickly.

“That wasn’t your fault, Erna. Think about it logically. At that crucial moment in our lives, you didn’t have a choice. The real problem is this damned house and our grandfather. Do you really think Ludia would’ve swapped the babies for no reason?”

“What?”

“She must’ve had good reason. Like how she treated you.”

“Wait… wait a second.”

“I’m saying—”

Lanjé continued speaking as if Erna’s reaction didn’t matter.

“Let’s leave.”

Leave…? This place?

Since Erna couldn’t bring herself to speak, Lanjé didn’t realize she was completely lost.

“Come on, pack your things!”

Was Lanjé always like this? Or had something happened in those two days to drive her mad? Erna couldn’t tell.

But there was one thing she didn’t know—this wasn’t just about two days for Lanjé.