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Chapter 112
Izriella swallowed a sigh and stared at the table in front of her.
The tea and pastries had been prepared by the maids so that she could study proper tea manners—a skill she just couldn’t seem to improve no matter how hard she tried.
The problem was that, around the autumn seasonal festival, pastries that were always served at tea parties had appeared on the table.
“Miss Eve, but you must eat these pastries. Also, there’s a specific order in which you should eat them…”
“I said no! They taste awful!”
Eve sat on the carpet, wriggling her feet, clutching her fork.
What good was it to dress up nicely and have the maids painstakingly arrange everything? Watching her like this, she seemed less refined than even street children, let alone the daughter of a noble family.
“But these pastries are historically significant—they were given to everyone by the First Emperor during the first seasonal festival.”
“Why do pastries taste this bad?”
“They say there was no sugar back then. That’s why they still bake them without sugar.”
In truth, the pastries weren’t so terrible that Eve’s tantrum was entirely justified. The flour was good, and they were full of eggs. Normally, sugar shouldn’t have been added, but because Eve made such a fuss, Izriella had secretly added a little honey.
So they tasted pleasantly nutty, not outright bad.
‘She’s been eating nothing but sweets for so long; of course she wouldn’t like this.’
Eve had always been an extremely picky eater.
‘At first, I thought it was because she was used to living in the countryside and was shocked by the food of a count’s household,’ Izriella thought.
She assumed that after some time, Eve would at least show a little restraint. But instead, Eve threw a fit, insisting she would only eat what she liked.
‘She knows no one will stop her.’
Izriella bit her lip. Her father, Count Aradman, had insisted that Eve be allowed whatever she wanted, while also wanting her to be fully refined and proper when she eventually appeared before the Emperor.
“The more perfect she is, the brighter our family shines. You must teach her well enough that no one can find fault.”
Doing what even a skilled etiquette tutor might find difficult, Izriella had to handle alone—and Eve made no effort at all.
Izriella had told Eve that behaving properly before the Emperor would earn her favor. At first, Eve had seemed to try. But now… she didn’t.
“Anyway, Dad will love and spoil me no matter what. Do I really have to learn this? If I become a princess, no one can tell me off anyway.”
She almost said, “Of course you wouldn’t care,” but she held back.
Izriella, watching Eve stubbornly refuse to eat while sitting on the floor, suddenly got an idea.
“But Miss Eve, I think someone else might like this.”
At the mention of ‘someone else,’ Eve turned her head toward Izriella.
“Ebi… does she eat this too?”
A flash of jealousy lit Eve’s eyes as she said Ebi’s name.
“Yes. Maybe because she came from an orphanage, she eats anything. His Majesty seems to find it quite admirable.”
Izriella continued talking about Ebi. She had noticed over the past few weeks that Eve seemed wary of Ebi. In fact, Izriella had deliberately stirred this curiosity.
When Eve showed interest in Ebi, Izriella mentioned that Ebi always learned everything well and received praise beside the Emperor. This motivated Eve to study seriously—not because she wanted to, but because she was afraid of losing to Ebi.
Since then, whenever Eve refused to study, Izriella subtly compared her to Ebi to motivate her. Of course, she would end by reminding Eve that Ebi was lowborn and insignificant compared to her, but the comparisons worked to push Eve forward.
It worked now too.
Eve, still sitting on the floor, pouted, then reluctantly returned to the sofa to look at the pastries in front of her. She had sat down again not because she wanted to eat, but because she didn’t want to lose to Ebi. Her eyes still screamed stubborn refusal.
Izriella rang the bell for a maid.
“Bring freshly brewed tea, please.”
The maid took a still-warm teapot from a nearby cart and poured fresh tea in front of Eve.
Eve, looking bored, spotted the large ribbon tied around the maid’s waist and yanked it.
“…!”
Startled, the maid jumped up, causing a few drops of tea to spill beside Eve.
“Hot!” Eve jumped up immediately.
“What are you doing?!”
Even though only a few drops had splashed next to her, Eve exaggeratedly flicked her hand and glared at the maid.
If she hadn’t yanked the ribbon, none of this would have happened. Yet she still shouted at the maid.
Izriella couldn’t help but scold the maid. Right now, calming Eve was the priority.
“Apologize quickly.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. I was too surprised…”
“You can’t even do such a simple thing! I hate you! Get out!”
Seizing the pastry she didn’t want to eat, Eve threw it at the maid’s face.
“Ugh!”
“Get out! I said get out!”
Not satisfied, she even grabbed a fork from the table and hurled it. Luckily, the maid instinctively dodged, and the fork flew all the way to the door.
Izriella sighed, unable to hold back.
‘She’s like this even now.’
When Eve became a princess later, she would truly do as she pleased, and Izriella began to worry whether being Eve’s lady-in-waiting was a good idea.
Then, a low voice interrupted.
“Oh.”
At that moment, Eve stopped mid-tantrum. Izriella, startled, looked up to see the source.
A woman of ordinary height stood at the door, with brown hair and black eyes. Plain clothes and a forgettable face.
“Miss Eve.”
Her voice was unnaturally low, as if layered over her ordinary appearance, giving Izriella an uncanny feeling. She shivered instinctively.
Regaining composure, she asked,
“Who are you? How did you enter without permission?”
Eve spoke first to the stranger.
“Noma?”
“Yes, Miss Eve. It’s been a while. But…”
Noma, as she was called, clicked her tongue at the fork that had fallen at her feet.
“I thought you were learning properly in the Count’s household, but apparently not.”
“No! I dropped it by accident!”
Everyone could tell she was lying, yet Eve insisted it was a mistake.
Noma’s eyes flickered cold for a moment, then softened.
Turning to Izriella, Noma said,
“You’re the Count’s daughter, aren’t you? I wish to speak with Miss Eve privately, so please step aside.”
Polite words, but it was clearly an order to leave.
Normally, Izriella might have objected, but Eve’s stiffened posture and the stranger’s intimidating aura made her hesitate.
‘Good, this works.’
Knowing that Noma had permission from her father, and exhausted from calming Eve, Izriella left quickly with the maid.
Once alone, Noma ensured the door was locked and that no one was around. She bowed her head and looked at trembling Eve.
“Miss Eve.”
“…”
“Who would believe you were a princess at this rate?”
Eve remained silent, knowing she had caused trouble. Even if she hadn’t, Noma was intimidating.
Noma, who had come to take her from a rural farmer’s house, dressed her nicely, fed her, and treated her with respect, said something astonishing:
“That mark on the back of your hand is proof that you are the Emperor’s daughter.”
“I… I’m the Emperor’s daughter?”
The blotchy mark that had appeared on her hand long ago was dismissed by the farmer as a sickness. The children there avoided her. And now it turned out to be proof of royal blood.
“Yes. From today, discard that lowborn name and use your real name. Eve Bien, the daughter the Emperor ought to love—this will be your name from now on.”
However, due to potential dangers, Noma would continue calling her Eve for the time being.
From that day, her life became like a dream. No more toiling in torn leather shoes under the sun. Her clothes became beautiful and soft, and even the Count bowed to her.
Noma, the Count, and Izriella all explained the Emperor to her. He had believed his daughter was dead and was heartbroken. Learning that she was alive, he would welcome her joyfully. But unprepared, she could be targeted by evil people.
Izriella’s annoyed voice had warned:
“First, Miss Ebi—the lowborn girl—must be removed. She’ll think the Emperor is hers and try to trouble you. She’ll lie to gain sympathy. Make sure to get rid of her first.”
“Understood.”
The more she heard, the more Eve disliked Ebi. She looked similar to Eve and had the Emperor’s favor.
‘Father will only love me.’
Because she was the true daughter. She felt resentment toward Ebi after meeting her once.
Recalling the past, Eve asked Noma, who still watched her with a cold gaze:
“But Noma, why didn’t the nanny come? She said Father would only believe I was his real daughter if she testified.”
“The nanny… needs more preparation,” Noma said, smiling.
“Don’t worry. She loves Princess Eve Bien, so she will testify before His Majesty that you are the daughter of Lilian Shell, your former owner and friend.”
Noma patted Eve’s shoulder reassuringly.
“Then His Majesty will have no choice but to believe you. He’ll… be overjoyed to see his daughter returned alive.”
Meanwhile, at the Kairlen Duke’s estate:
The Duke, seeing off his family, boarded the carriage. Nothing seemed unusual—except Ebi, holding Arsel’s hand, waved to the Duke.
“Have a safe trip!”
Waving her small hand, the Duke smiled involuntarily.
“I’ll return quickly; don’t worry about the letter. I’ll make sure it reaches His Majesty.”
“Thank you! I’ll bring you candy too! Thank you so much!”
Hearing how Ebi had helped with the music class and earned money, the Duke’s lips curved further.
She was working hard, making no mistakes, enjoying herself with Arsel. A child her age excelling like this impressed him, even if she wasn’t his daughter.
“I’ll get lemon-flavored candy. The shopkeeper says they made a new lemon flavor today.”
Ebi’s face lit up, already eager to visit the town.
“Yes, yes. Go quickly—don’t let the dust get in your eyes.”
The Duke waved his hand, even using words he didn’t usually speak. Seeing such a harmonious family scene, the maids thought:
‘Could Miss Ebi just stay here forever?’
