I woke up at dawn and, like every morning, the first thing I did was don my tattered dress. Although it’d originally been white, dirt, soot, and grease had long since turned it black. Of course, it’d have been a waste to wear any other outfit; given my daily tasks, a new dress would simply meet the same fate as my usual one, and wearing something already ruined spared me having to worry about dirtying myself.
After getting up, I went to the well in the courtyard to draw water and fill the large earthen pot in the kitchen. Filling it entirely always took me about twenty round trips. Then I put wood into the stove, turned on the fire, and started baking the bread dough I’d prepared the previous evening. Upon closing the lid over the dough to let it bake, I began preparing a stew with vegetables and sausages.
Once all the food was ready, I went to knock on the doors of my parents and our servant to wake them up. While they ate breakfast, I took care of the laundry.
The merchant came by right as I was finishing, so I bought ingredients and sold him bread, vegetables, and woven fabric. He ended up paying me more money than I’d initially given him.
Then I went back to the dining room. Everyone had already finished eating, so it was empty. I gathered the leftovers on each of their plates and put them all on my plate, and after getting myself a bowl of cold soup as well, I sat down to have my breakfast. My father hated vegetables and always left most of his behind, so I had a nice meal with plenty of vegetables.
Now that my stomach had stopped grumbling, I went back to my room and sat at my desk.
Yesterday, my sister died.
Or perhaps she’d passed earlier than that? A week ago, she’d left on her way to her fiancé’s estate. Her carriage had fallen off a cliff and into a river. It’d happened near the capital and, from what I’d heard, a large search party had been sent to look for her. Finding her—or rather, her body—had taken them five days.
Instead of the merry wedding ceremony we’d been expecting, we’d held a silent funeral.
My sister was gone.
We’d received countless congratulations letters for Anastasia, and I had to write replies to all of them—to thank them, then to inform them of what had happened. I also had to send back the money they’d sent us as engagement gifts. To do so, I used all of the money I’d gotten from the merchant this morning.
I signed the letters in my father’s name, as I always did. I’d been taking care of all the communications on his behalf for years now.
I wasn’t entirely done with the letters yet, but I had to take a break to go prepare lunch. Today I’d be preparing a salad with an onion-and-zucchini-infused olive oil dressing and ham piccata…for the others, that is. For my portion, I quickly stir-fried the leftover vegetable scraps and put them over rice. I ate standing up while watching the ham piccata cook to make sure nothing would burn.
After serving the food, I returned to my room while my family ate, and I kept working until the sun began to set. Then I made and served dinner before putting away the laundry that had finished drying and headed to the dining room. Sadly, there was nothing left for me to eat tonight. I had some warm water to settle my stomach, then I cleaned up the tableware and the floors. I also scraped out the ashes from the stove and added manure to the vegetable beds in the garden.
Once I was done, I heated up water for my parents to bathe, cleaned the toilets, harvested vegetables, chopped some wood, and finally got to bathing myself. There wasn’t any hot water left, so I undressed in the courtyard, poured some of the well’s water over myself, and used the clothes I always wore to wipe my body. They were in tatters already, so this wouldn’t change much. If anything, that bird’s nest I called my hair was messier than my stained dress.
Once I finished, I dragged my shivering self back to my room. I couldn’t sleep yet. I still had to fill the account book for today, arrange for sending out tenant farmers, and…
Ah, right, the dairy farmer who lives west of our property contacted us to let us know the water wheel isn’t turning anymore. I should go fix it tomorrow first thing in the morning, so I probably need to get the breakfast bread ready tonight… I wanted to read a bit before bed, though…
Reading was my only solace. One page, one line—no, even one word was enough for me. I just wanted to experience the pleasure of reading before I fell asleep. I’d even decided on the book I wanted to read today, a tale from a distant foreign land called The Tattered Red Cat. When we were younger, my sister used to read it aloud to me. She’d even enthusiastically act out the characters. I wanted to read the words and remember her voice.
I was walking while thinking about it, and as I’d just stepped into the main hall, someone slapped my cheek violently, pulling me out of my reverie.
“You should have died, not her!” It was my mother. “Ah! My poor darling Anastasia! Why did she have to die? Why?!” she wailed, tears flowing down her cheeks as she continued to pelt my face with her open palm.
My cheeks were so cold that every slap felt like a slash of a knife cutting me open. My father was there too, watching. I stood there in silence and took it, clenching my jaw as my mother kept hitting me again and again.
Even though my parents never doted on me, they didn’t mistreat or abuse me either. This was the very first time either of them had hit me for no reason, but I wasn’t surprised. Neither the irrational violence nor her telling me I should have died in Anastasia’s stead had shocked me. It all made perfect sense.
“You killed Anastasia, didn’t you?” my mother shrieked. “You must have tampered with the carriage! Or maybe you pushed it into the river yourself! You did it! You killed my darling daughter!”
I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t true, but another violent slap landed on my cheek first, bringing me to my knees.
My mother looked down at me and continued screaming. “It’s all your fault! You murderer! You should die! Die!”
My poor mother…
Anastasia had been my mother’s treasure, the apple of her eye, her little angel. The pain she must have been feeling broke my heart, and I understood it very well. I myself was also miserable at having lost my dear sister.
Being hit hurt, so I hated it, but it was nothing compared to the pain Anastasia must have felt, or compared to the pain my mother felt at this very moment.
“You and your accursed red hair!” my mother raged. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head backward to force my face up. She tried to slap me again, but my father caught her hand in the air, stopping her. She started scratching his hand in an attempt to get him to release it.
“Let go! It’s all her fault! How can that red-haired wench live on while Anastasia is dead?!”
“Stop. You’ll leave scars if you continue.”
“I hope I do! Let me scar that face of hers until she doesn’t dare show it to anyone! Anastasia is dead, you hear me?! Dead!”
“I can’t let you do that. Marie will go to the Granado estate.”
“I-I will?” I blurted out.
I thought I’d misunderstood, but my father did not waver. “You will become Anastasia’s replacement, Marie. That is how you will atone for surviving in her stead.”
“Atone”? Why must I atone, father? What have I done wrong?
I hadn’t killed Anastasia. I hadn’t even been riding in the carriage that’d killed her. So how was my surviving a sin? Why weren’t my parents or my brother equally guilty?
I turned these questions over in my head and finally understood. My birth was my sin. Being me was what I’d done wrong.
I’m sorry I was born, mother. If I’m ever reborn, I’ll be like Anastasia—beautiful, bright, and adorable, someone worthy of love and kindness. I promise I’ll be someone you want, so please, forgive me…
“…give me…”
“Lady Marie?”
I opened my eyes to a kindly, soft voice. I’d been wrapped in a towel and laid down on a bench. Tunica was in middle of massaging the soles of my feet while Mio was drying my hair.
My eyes wandered around in confusion, and Mio looked at me fondly. “Were you just talking in your sleep?” she asked.
“I…fell asleep?”
“Yes, my lady. Did it hurt?”
“No, not all… It all felt very nice.”
“You can sleep some more, Lady Marie,” Tunica said. “Your skin is absorbing the cream, so you won’t need to move anytime soon.” I closed my eyes once more. “Good. Relax your body and leave it all to us.”
“You’re beautiful, Lady Marie,” I thought I heard Mio say. Their voices were once again growing distant.