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Chapter 6
While I was grumbling inwardly, a servant standing outside the door announced loudly.
At that, Louis straightened his already perfectly upright posture even more.
I also straightened my back and looked toward the entrance.
Soon, the massive mansion doors opened, and a man exuding a sharp, intimidating aura stepped inside.
He was a count with a physique so robust it was hard to believe he was middle-aged, and an icy presence that made it feel improper to even look directly at him.
His long, sharp eyes swept across the room.
Afraid I might accidentally meet his gaze, I quickly lowered my head.
“Father, you’re here.”
As Louis, the eldest son, stepped forward to greet him, all the servants lined up and bowed in unison.
“Welcome, Count.”
The count simply nodded in response and began walking.
I kept my head lowered, hoping he would pass by quickly.
But just as I slightly lifted my head, he suddenly stopped in front of me.
Of all times, our eyes met.
Startled, I quickly lowered my gaze again.
Even so, I could feel his sharp stare pressing down on me.
Why is he looking at me? He never cares about me normally.
I quietly looked down at my feet, then suddenly remembered I hadn’t greeted him and carefully bowed.
“Welcome home, Count.”
Renée never called the count “Father,” but always “Count.”
Well, it wasn’t surprising. Who would want to call “Father” someone who was always indifferent to them and turned a blind eye to Louis’s abuse?
I remained bent forward like a folding phone, staring at the floor.
So I didn’t see it.
The count’s eyes shaking.
“…That hair…”
“Pardon?”
His low voice fell above my head.
I straightened up and looked at him.
In that moment, his usually cold expression collapsed for the first time.
Why? Did I do something?
“…Never mind.”
Soon, the count turned away as if nothing had happened, and I finally exhaled the breath I had been holding.
I didn’t know what I had done wrong, but I must have clearly displeased him.
I should avoid standing out for a while.
.
.
.
But that thought didn’t last long, because I ran into the count again at dinner.
It was pure torture.
I mechanically chewed my steak without even knowing whether it was going into my mouth or nose.
Even though it was the finest veal dripping with juices, it felt like I was chewing tire rubber.
The count showed no interest in me at all, as if the glance he had cast earlier in the day had never happened.
Not surprising. It was always like this.
If the dining room hadn’t been warm, I would’ve run straight back to my room already.
“Renée Sauver.”
While I was eating, Count Sauver suddenly called my name.
“Yes, Count.”
“From now on, do not wear that hairstyle.”
“Pardon?”
I looked down at my hair in confusion.
It was neatly braided into a single plait—nothing seemed wrong with it.
It wasn’t like I was disgracing the count’s household with some wild, messy hair!
This was my favorite hairstyle.
But if the count said no, what could I do?
I didn’t want to be thrown back into that freezing room.
I nodded quietly.
“Understood, Count.”
As I was speaking and cutting my steak, the count continued.
“I hear the ancient dragon Khaisis has broken its seal and escaped. The Imperial Court is forming a subjugation force to capture it.”
Ancient dragon Khaisis?
Did something like that exist in the original story?
I quickly searched my memory and eventually recalled it.
Khaisis had only been mentioned briefly by the mage Shamal.
Since Flower of the Glass Conservatory wasn’t a story about dragons, it had only passed as a mention.
I listened with half an ear while focusing on my meat.
“Our house will also be sending knights. It is said to be a brutal dragon, so it will not be easy to subdue.”
Since Khaisis never actually appeared in the original story and was only mentioned in passing, nothing major should happen.
Right now, my bigger concern was how to connect Uncle with the male leads.
After dinner ended, I waited for the count to leave, then quietly stood up.
“Did you deliberately wear that hairstyle?”
A mocking voice came from across the table just as I was folding my napkin.
“Renée Sauver. Answer me.”
Ugh, it had only been three seconds.
I lowered my gaze timidly and shook my head.
Louis let out a scoff, as if he couldn’t believe it.
“If it wasn’t intentional, then you must be an idiot.”
Why is he insulting me?
“As Father said, do not wear that hairstyle again.”
I was about to nod when Louis cut in again with that sharp tone of his.
He always said “Answer me” like that just to irritate me.
Calm down. Just endure it.
“Alright.”
Clicking his tongue, Louis tossed his napkin down and left the dining room.
Honestly, I don’t know why everyone was so obsessed with picking on Renée Sauver.
Poor Renée Sauver.
Feeling suffocated, I decided to take a walk and headed toward the garden.
But maybe because Renée’s memories still hadn’t fully settled into my mind—
I got lost inside the mansion.
“…Where am I?”
I looked around for a long time before just walking wherever my feet led me.
Eventually, I figured I’d recognize the way as I went.
“Is this it?”
I found a door and turned the handle.
But unfortunately, it didn’t lead to the garden.
This mansion really was huge.
I was about to close the door again—
If not for the large portrait hanging above the fireplace.
My eyes were drawn to it, and I stepped inside the room.
“Renée…?”
No. That wasn’t Renée.
Looking closely, she was slightly different.
The woman in the portrait had her hair braided to one side and wore a gentle smile as she looked forward.
I stared at her intently.
“…So this is Renée’s mother.”
Only after a long moment did I reach the conclusion.
The woman was Lea Sauver, Renée’s mother.
Since the count had never shown me a portrait before, this was—no, Renée’s—first time seeing her mother’s face.
Only then did I understand why he had told her not to wear that hairstyle.
“She looks so much like Renée.”
Because when he looked at her, he must have been reminded of his deceased wife.
“…If that’s the reason, he could’ve just said so…”
I sighed deeply and looked around the room.
It was simple: a fireplace, a portrait, and a single sofa.
It seemed like a room the count visited whenever he missed his wife.
And judging by how lived-in it felt, he had probably been coming here even recently.
“…Wait, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here?”
Only then did my brain catch up.
I quickly grabbed the doorknob to leave—
But before I could turn it, it moved on its own.
“…Renée?”
And the person who entered was—
“C-Count!”
Count Sauver.
Damn it.
I panicked and stuttered.
The count looked surprised for a moment, then quickly returned to his usual cold expression.
“What are you doing here?”
“Ah, well…”
Saying “I got lost” would sound strange.
Getting lost in a mansion I had lived in my whole life—anyone would find that suspicious.
I hesitated, then spoke.
“I… wanted to see my mother…”
A lie.
This excuse was just as strange, honestly.
But I hadn’t had time to think of anything better.
My eyes darted around nervously before I lowered my gaze.
I stared at my feet for a long time.
Then, after a moment, a voice fell—faintly softened, almost gentle.
