“I have nothing to say to you,” said Count Dan Hamilton, the current head of the Hamilton family.
His almost comical mustache could come across as charming from a certain angle, but his attitude was anything but. The look in his eyes revealed that he thought of everyone but himself as nothing more than rats. He directed these ice-cold words at Fuuka Hamilton. The morning light filled the mansion, but the air inside felt frigid.
“Yes. My humble apologies, Father.”
Fuuka repeated those words over and over.
His daughter had run away from home after failing in the struggle to find a partner for a political marriage. The gossip that followed was unbefitting of the venerable Hamilton family. The rumor-hungry nobles of the capital would have delighted themselves with talk of Fuuka’s flight.
“Get out. You can sleep in the garden shed from now on.”
“Understood.”
“And don’t talk to your sisters.”
“Understood.”
“You’ve disgraced our family name, so don’t think you have any home here... God help me, this is what I get for showing mercy to my bastard daughter,” said Dan, as though spitting the words out.
Yes, Fuuka was the child of Dan and his mistress. Having no heir at that point, Dan took Fuuka in and raised her. But soon afterwards, his legal wife bore him several other daughters, and Fuuka lost any value beyond being a tool for political marriage in Dan’s eyes.
Fuuka had been content with that, because she believed that if she could just work hard enough, be the best child—more capable than anyone else—then someday her father, mother, and sisters would take notice of her.
“Begone. I’m busy handling preparations for our joint project with the Reinhardts. They didn’t pull out after you fucked up your engagement with Klaus-sama. Be grateful.”
“...Understood.”
After exiting the room in silence, Fuuka clenched her fists.
You’re amazing, Fuuka-chan.
You know everything, Fuuka-chan; you work so hard.
...I love you, Fuuka-chan!
Although they only spent ten days together, her rival’s voice, Miyako’s voice, echoed through her head over and over.
Why, oh why, did I take her outstretched hand back then? Why did I let myself be taken in by her reddish-brown hair? Why did I spend those happy days with her? I’m supposed to be stronger than this. And I was... until I spent time with someone who accepted me, praised me, told me she loved me... with Miyako.
“...Miyako.”
I miss her. Fuuka missed the auburn-haired girl so much, but she was the one who cast her off. She threw it all away herself. Fuuka’s pride wouldn’t allow her to sink into regret about how she missed Miyako at this late hour.
I’m acting selfish, thought Fuuka, admonishing herself as she made for her room—the shed.
The maids watching made no effort to pretend they weren’t gossiping about her. Fuuka’s gaze landed on one of the maids in particular.
Hmm...? What’s that?
A red rash lined her neck. Her complexion was pale, and it looked like she had broken out into a cold sweat. Fuuka had a feeling she had seen that rash somewhere recently.
I don’t like this.
“You there... Do you feel ill at all?” she called out without thinking.
But...
“I-I shouldn’t... I have to go get the washing done!”
“Oh, they asked me to clean the young lady’s room,” said one of the others.
They dispersed the moment Fuuka called out to them. It was as though she had disturbed a spider’s nest.
My word, what rudeness... But I have to expect that, now that I’m the Hamilton family’s unwanted goods. Fuuka sighed deeply. I’m worried about that maid’s condition, but I mustn’t do anything to stand out right now.
Fuuka walked on in silence. She could hear the maids—or perhaps her sisters—mocking her in the distance.
But, at any rate, I mustn’t cause any trouble. That’s what I promised Odina-san.