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Chapter 14
“I heard you skipped your lesson today as well.”
Ah, was there a lesson today?
Come to think of it, she vaguely remembered Sef saying the teacher had come.
Half-asleep, Orte told him to come again tomorrow. Then she heard the teacher shouting angrily outside the door before leaving. It seemed he had gone straight to the Duke of Weekend.
“I lost interest.”
“It is basic education. Attend it.”
“I will.”
Orte nodded obediently.
“But I’ll reduce the lessons to once a week. Like I said, I lost interest.”
“Do as you wish.”
The Duke of Weekend replied indifferently.
Since she expected that answer, Orte added one more thing.
“I’m also going to quit training completely.”
Even without specifying which training, Orte knew the Duke would understand.
Because there was only one type of training she did—training to increase her divine power.
“What?”
“You know it well, Duke.”
Orte met his eyes.
Seeing his golden eyes, she realized—
It had been a very long time since she looked at him like this.
“My divine power is insignificant.”
It was only natural.
Orte was not the Saint’s real daughter, so it was expected that her divine power was less than what others hoped for.
Even after Orte left, the Duke of Weekend remained sitting on the sofa.
He recalled their conversation.
“I trained for years, but nothing changed.”
“That can’t be. Didn’t you train properly?”
At those words, Orte’s dull eyes flashed for a moment.
It was only for an instant, and then she spoke calmly again.
“I must be unlucky. Even though I’m the Saint’s daughter, I was born with such worthless divine power.”
At that moment, the Duke felt something strange.
The Orte he remembered had always been full of hope and expectation about her divine power.
She would try hard to explain, afraid he might be disappointed.
She used to say that after a few more years, she could become like her mother, and asked him to wait.
Long ago, when Orte mentioned the Saint, the Duke became angry. After that, she never spoke of the Saint first.
But when it came to divine power, she still mentioned the Saint.
That was the Orte he knew.
“I will take my leave now.”
Orte stood up and said.
“Ah, one last thing, Duke.”
She pointed at the vase on the table—the one he ordered to have its water changed every day.
“That flower is already dead. You’re too late.”
The Duke looked at the flower she pointed at.
Most of the petals had fallen, and only a few remained.
He rubbed his chest.
It felt like it was throbbing.
After leaving the study, Orte went straight to the dining room.
It was an awkward time—not quite lunch, not quite dinner—but Orte confidently opened the door and pulled the bell rope.
Soon, the servants hurried in, about to bow—
then realized it was Orte who had called them.
“Miss?”
“Bring food.”
They exchanged glances, trying to understand the situation. Their stiff bodies relaxed quickly.
“Miss, the timing is quite inconvenient. We cannot serve a meal right now.”
“Why?”
The servant was flustered.
“Pardon? Because there is no prepared food.”
“Then make it and bring it.”
“Ha.”
The servant let out a deep sigh.
“Miss, did you not understand? We cannot move just to prepare food for only you.”
“So you don’t move when the Duke eats alone either?”
“What? That’s different. How can you compare yourself to the Duke?”
“What’s different?”
Orte looked over the servants, then pointed at a younger one.
“You. Say my name.”
“M-Me? Ah… O-Orte Weekend.”
“My name carries the Weekend family. Is there still a problem?”
She didn’t even want to argue like this, but she couldn’t keep filling her stomach with thin sandwiches or apples forever.
Orte gestured coldly.
“Bring food.”
“…Yes, fine.”
Unable to find a flaw in her words, the servants stepped back with displeased expressions.
A few minutes later, they brought food.
Cold potato stew and a tough piece of meat full of muscle.
“Enjoy.”
The servants giggled.
Orte looked down at the food.
Perhaps because she had grown used to how she was treated at the temple, it looked like nothing more than food waste.
“Small changes will change you, Lady Orte.”
Small changes.
Orte decided what one of those changes would be.
She lightly pushed the plate forward—
Crash!
The plate shattered, and the stew splashed onto the servants’ dresses and trousers.
“Ahh!”
“Miss! What is this—!”
“Ah.”
Orte looked at them.
“I made a mistake.”
The servant stuttered.
“W-What did you say?”
“Bring it again.”
“Miss!”
“Bring it.”
Orte did not raise her voice, but cut him off.
The servant’s face turned red as he gritted his teeth and turned away.
“Don’t drop it this time—even by mistake.”
The servant returned with the same food.
Before he could step back, Orte pushed the plate again.
“Another mistake.”
This time, the food splashed even higher, and glass fragments scattered near their feet.
“Miss!”
“No matter how many times you bring this kind of food, I will make the same ‘mistake.’”
“How dare you behave like this—!”
Orte looked out the window.
“It’s almost dinner time.”
The sun had already moved, and the sky was turning into sunset.
“When the Duke comes, I’ll cry and cling to him. I’ll say the servants kept bringing me food waste and tried to make me eat it.”
“….”
“Even if the Duke doesn’t care about me, he’s not like you.”
“….”
“Even if he knows I’m lying, you won’t escape punishment.”
Of course, it was a lie.
Orte knew very well that even if she ate this food and got sick, the Duke of Weekend would not care at all.
But the servants, who did not know his true nature, began to waver.
“This is your last chance. Bring food that even the Duke can eat.”
“…Yes.”
“And clean this up.”
Some servants carefully stepped forward and cleaned the mess.
After dozens of minutes passed, as the sunset deepened, the servant returned.
Warm, well-cooked potato stew.
Soft, juicy steak.
Fresh salad with a light dressing.
This time, it was a proper meal.
Orte forced all of it into her mouth.
Her stomach felt like it would burst, but it was the first proper food she had eaten in the Duke’s house, so she did not stop.
Only after finishing even the dessert did Orte stand up.
“Huh? A parasite?”
She ran into Ellen, who was coming down for dinner.
Ellen smirked and looked her up and down.
“Did you give up now? You couldn’t even last a month?”
Orte held her nightclothes and slightly bowed her head.
“What? Hey, parasite, where are you going?”
Ellen grabbed her wrist.
Orte pulled her hand away.
“I’ve finished my meal.”
“What?”
“I’ll be going now, young master.”
Leaving Ellen behind, Orte returned to her room.
As soon as the door closed, she collapsed to the floor.
“Ugh….”
Her stomach throbbed.
She had definitely overeaten.
Nausea rose, but Orte swallowed it down.
Her face twisted in discomfort—
but strangely, a smile appeared.
“Ha…”
She let out a small laugh and hugged herself.
Her stomach felt like it would burst, and she felt sick—
but she was smiling.
Why had she never tried this before?
Of course, she had to argue with the servants and wait for hours to get proper food—
but compared to everything she had endured before, it was nothing.
“It was this easy… this…”
Orte murmured softly.
“How small was the cage I was trapped in all this time…”
