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Chapter 9
Bang!
There was a loud noise from around the corner of the hallway, followed by a slammed door and raised voices. A moment later, Ayla and I came face-to-face with a boy who had turned the corner.
Obed, his face stiffened, followed close behind. Upon seeing us, he wore a faintly awkward expression.
The boy looked at me with unsteady eyes.
‘So this is how we meet.’
Ridmore Desmier.
The sole heir to the ducal family was standing before me.
He was only fifteen, yet his height was already comparable to a grown man’s, hinting at how tall he would grow.
His skin was attractively tanned, and his jawline was slowly maturing from a delicate boy’s to that of a young man.
He took after his father—thick, black hair and eyebrows so dense they twitched with displeasure.
His crimson irises shimmered with flecks of gold and scarlet, like fragments of glowing ember.
He had pleasantly full lips, which parted hesitantly.
“…You.”
Before he could finish, I took the initiative and greeted him.
“Good day, Young Lord Desmier.”
Just like me, he must have recognized who I was at a glance.
His expression was difficult to read—uncertain, possibly regretful, or maybe just furious. A mix of emotions stirred behind his eyes.
‘Now that I think about it, we did cross paths at the Academy a few times.’
In my previous life, I had been too busy surviving to pay him any real attention.
‘What kind of person was he?’
I felt like there was something unusual about him, and I was trying to recall when Ridmore suddenly shouted with a scowl.
“You! Do you even realize where you are?!”
Though I’d already guessed from the words “monster” and “my father forced this,” this confirmed it—he truly despised me.
That alone determined how I would deal with him.
“This is the Desmier Duchy, is it not?”
“Not that! How can you be so shameless?!”
“Shameless? I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”
I asked, shrugging my shoulders. Furious, Ridmore pointed his finger at me.
“I’m talking about how you drove the Barden family out!”
“If that’s what you’re referring to, your father was a great help. I didn’t do much at all. Perhaps you should take your complaints to him?”
“You—ugh, argh! What kind of girl are you?!”
It was ridiculous to be arguing like this in the middle of the hallway, with Ayla behind me and Ridmore backed by Obed. My legs even started to ache.
‘Can I just say I’m going in first?’
As I was thinking of massaging my sore legs, Ridmore shouted again.
“They were your relatives who took care of you for seven years! Do you have no conscience?!”
Tiresome.
A sudden wave of irritation rose. I lost all patience for the immature tantrum hiding behind a noble face. My voice turned cold.
“If someone kicks out the very people who cared for them for seven years, don’t you think there’s usually a reason?”
“W-What?”
Ridmore flinched and stepped back. I stepped forward accordingly.
“Is it that you don’t want to think about it? Or do you just hate me so much your brain refuses to work in that direction?… You’re rude, lacking in manners, and unbelievably stupid.”
“…Hey! How dare you talk like that?!”
“If I said I’m not done, would you keep listening? I’ve never heard anyone say the Desmier heir was this idiotic.”
I crossed my arms and mocked him freely.
“Unless, of course, you have a reason to lash out like this—either the rumors were too kind to you, or… perhaps you have a personal connection to the Bardens? Something beyond my infamy?”
I tossed out the line, and his face froze—struck squarely.
‘I remember now.’
The vague itch in my mind was finally gone. I looked straight at him and asked confidently:
“You like Helena, don’t you?”
Only now did I recall that the Desmier heir had been one of Helena’s many famous suitors in my past life.
Even at the Academy, I remembered him sneaking glances at her or blushing whenever they crossed paths.
“W-W-What are you talking about?! That’s not it!”
His face turned red as he stumbled back.
I’d never really thought about him much, but knowing he liked Helena changed the way I saw him.
Was it fatigue? Or… had I unknowingly hoped for something by entering the ducal house? My body sagged slightly.
‘How ridiculous.’
I forced a smile just to mock my own pathetic thoughts.
I’d had enough of this game.
“…If that’s what you say, then fine.”
I shrugged and brushed past Ridmore. There were no footsteps behind me. I turned my head and asked in a tired voice,
“Ayla, could you show me to my room?”
“Y-Yes! Of course, my lady.”
Ayla, who had frozen, scrambled after me.
I ignored Obed’s stern gaze as I took several more steps. Then I heard Ridmore’s voice from behind.
“…You really are strange. Just like your father, you’re a weirdo. Don’t even think about clinging to our family. I’ll kick you out myself!”
I stopped in my tracks.
A tense silence filled the hallway, like the moment before a fuse is lit.
But I ignored him and walked on.
“This way, my lady.”
After walking for a while longer, Ayla pointed to a door.
When she opened it, the room that greeted me was far more luxurious than anything I’d had at the count’s estate.
It was at least three times the size of my previous room. Warm wood tones and creamy colors filled the space with a cozy, comforting atmosphere.
A grand bed stood in the center, with a fireplace to the right gently warming the room.
Still, for some reason, I felt cold.
“Shall I help you change into something more comfortable?”
“No. Please leave. I want to be alone.”
“But…”
“I can manage. Just go.”
“…Understood, my lady. I’ll return in time for dinner.”
Ayla bowed and left. The door closed softly behind her, and silence finally filled the room.
I collapsed onto the bed.
Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t slept properly since last night.
The exhaustion that had built up all day struck me like a demon swallowing me whole.
“…So tired.”
‘I should change clothes… check the room for anything suspicious… make sure it’s safe… draw up plans for the future… the ducal estate… the people greeting me in lines… the personal maid… Desmier’s threats… Obed’s frown…’
My mind was overwhelmed, but my body refused to move.
Images drifted across the wallpaper like ghosts.
My heavy eyelids slowly closed.
* * *
That evening, Ayla came to wake me as she had said.
But apparently, half-asleep, I mumbled nonsense and refused to get up.
In the end, my first dinner at the ducal mansion went uneaten—handed over to the servants.
Not that it mattered. Neither the Duke nor the Young Lord were there. It was an unimportant occasion. I didn’t regret missing it.
“…So this afternoon, Madam Hertel will come to teach etiquette.”
The next morning, after having breakfast alone, Ayla combed my hair while listing the day’s schedule.
“After that, tutors from each subject will visit to consult and create a study plan to support your Academy studies.”
“The Duke is rather intense.”
“His Grace never does anything half-heartedly.”
Only two days into my stay, and I already had such a packed schedule. I clicked my tongue at the lack of rest.
“Still, I’ve heard you have excellent grades in all your subjects, my lady.”
Ayla added lightly.
That minor comment twisted something inside me.
My unstable nature flared.
I had once lived kindly, bowed my head to insults and disgrace because I was the daughter of a devil—but that life had ended at the gallows.
Since dying and returning to the past, I felt like I was slowly going insane.
‘Or maybe I’ve always been mad, and it’s only now becoming obvious.’
Ever since successfully expelling the Baron’s family, I’d been on edge—like a monster inside me waiting to bare its fangs.
Ugh, how aggravating.
“That’s not all you’ve heard, is it?”
“…Pardon?”
The hand combing my hair stopped mid-motion.
My mood had taken a sharp downturn. I glared at her reflection in the mirror.
“You’ve heard more than that about my Academy life, haven’t you?”
“….”
Her brown eyes wavered.
I turned to face her fully and snapped.
“Say it. Don’t pretend you don’t know. You’ve probably heard everything—how I see ghosts, how I have no friends despite my grades, how I always eat alone. So why didn’t you mention any of that?”
“…My lady.”
“Don’t act like you know me. Don’t talk lightly. Are you going to gossip about my life in the Duke’s house, too? If so, get out. I don’t need a spy for a maid!”
“…That’s not what I meant.”
Ayla set the comb down, grabbed her skirt with both hands, and bowed deeply.
“I spoke out of turn, my lady. I apologize.”
My chest heaved from how fast I had spoken. My whole body trembled with frustration.
Her lips trembled as she bit them shut. A walnut-shaped wrinkle appeared under her jaw.
I glared at her for a moment longer before turning to face the mirror again.
After a pause, Ayla quietly picked up the comb and resumed combing my hair.
Her hand trembled.
A few times, I felt her hot breath against my neck. A soft sniffle slipped out.
Only then did her tense shoulders start to loosen slightly, little by little.
Sigh—as I exhaled, I felt her tense up again.
She tried her best to hold back her tears, but it didn’t seem to work.
‘Maybe I overreacted.’
I wanted to ignore it, but it kept bothering me.
My reflection in the mirror frowned. My pale face looked uncomfortable.
I hesitated, then finally spoke.
