Chapter 1

When she was a child, Nadia would rarely express her emotions. She never complained, never cried, nor did she ever laugh out loud.

The adults around her would praise her behavior, saying that she was very mature for her age—as expected of the Ingram family’s conduct. But, little did they know, the child herself wouldn’t regard her behavior as mature. It’s just that she thought she’d be loved if she acted like this.

If she bothered the adults, cried whenever she wanted, behaved petulantly, ran around, played to her heart’s content, clung to her parents’ clothes—whenever she acted her age, the results were different.

So, in the end, she thought if she endured and stopped herself from whining that she wanted to be loved, then she would be treated better.

When Nadia realized that her family wouldn’t change no matter what she did, everyone already had the impression that she was a mature, elegant child.

It was all too late. She couldn’t turn back now, that would only mean that she must admit that she went through all those hardships because she was starved for love. At the end of the day, she admitted nothing because it was a matter of pride.

The Ingram Duchy’s wealth and power were second only to the Imperial Family, though no matter how this was boasted of, this renown would never lead to a real loving family.

To everyone else in high society, the Duke and the Duchess were the epitome of a harmonious marriage. But, the truth was that their union was nothing but a necessity of political gains.

Nonetheless, the couple fulfilled their marital responsibilities by birthing a perfect son to become the family’s heir and a beautiful daughter who would later be put on a show to the marriage market.

As a product of a loveless marriage, it was inevitable that her parents gave her nothing but apathy.

When Nadia was around ten years old, she found out that her father had a mistress, and her mother had a lover. She finally realized why they both stayed out all night.

It might have been better if she could rely on her brother at this time, since they were experiencing the same pain. However, her older brother Nigel was equally disinterested in a sister who’s younger than him by ten years.

He was entirely focused on two things: on his classes as the Duke’s heir, and on fooling around at parties, using his face and his standing as a Duke’s son to play with women.

The Duchess would say that it was fine, as long as he didn’t come back with an illegitimate child. And so, this brother of hers, who comes back home with the lingering scent of alcohol and perfumes, would always turn her away when she tried to talk to him.

At twelve years old, even though she had been young, he looked terribly pathetic in her eyes as he often wouldn’t wipe off the lipstick stains on his mouth.

She thought all nobles lived like that. As she observed this household, where no one held any affection for each other, she eventually came to the conclusion that she would grow up to live the same life, build the same kind of family, stay miserable and lonely.

Although she would be proven wrong later on…

It was a party she attended back then. Count Marten, who was close to Duke Ingram, held a birthday party for his daughter.

As usual, parties of this kind had their own political implications, and so the adults would want to get along with each other, showing off their friendship and using their children as an extension of their interconnected business relationships.

As she sat by the fountain, brushing her fingertips on the water’s surface because she was bored, she happened to see something that shocked her. Count Marten, who had a well-kept mustache, carried his daughter dearly as he delivered his closing remarks.

The Count and Countess smiled brightly at their daughter as she embraced her father, as if she was the most precious thing in the world. Nadia desperately wanted to ask them if they could look at her like that, too.

Nadia hesitated, but she gained the courage to go near the Countess.

“My little angel, do you want to open your present with mom?”

It almost made Nadia’s cheeks blush, even though she knew that the Countess wasn’t talking to her. If the Countess was her mother, then she’d be called an angel. Nadia wanted to ask her if she could call her mother.

Her real mother, the Duchess, had scary eyes, and she would always swipe away her small hand whenever she reached out to hold her mother’s hand with all her might.

It wasn’t all too obvious, but Nadia could see that her mother would always be holding back a look of irritation whenever she looked at Nadia.

“What do you want?” the Duchess once asked her.

“I-I just…”

Nadia fidgeted, twiddling her fingers as she felt intimidated. Instinctively, she thought that she shouldn’t say what’s on her mind. But, when it took too long for her to continue speaking, the Duchess lost her patience and slapped away Nadia’s hand.

“Don’t be a nuisance and just behave. I don’t have time to waste on you.”

She could only nod. It had been ingrained in her that if she was a good daughter, then one day she might be called ‘my angel.’ It was a child’s optimistic mindset that held her back from despairing.

Nadia got used to pretending to be strong. The most effective method of concealing her pain was to raise her chin up so that it was her that looked down on people and not the other way around, but it later became natural for her to act in this manner.

The more Nadia exuded arrogance and coldness, the more she kept her distance from other people, whether it be the maids whom she would see every day, the family she might or might not see once a week, or the other girls her age whom she socialized with at tea parties.

The maids around her would always hold their tongue whenever they were in her presence, always wary. The other noble children wouldn’t stop currying favor with Nadia, either gaining access to her reputation as a friend or somehow becoming acquainted with her for a political marriage.

Regardless of their efforts, no one managed to become a close confidant to whom Nadia could share her innermost thoughts.

She couldn’t figure out where it went wrong.

Would it have been different if she had cried immaturely, flipping the entire household upside down with her tantrums? Still, at this point, she couldn’t talk about this weakness to anyone.

To whom exactly could she confide? She couldn’t possibly say she was lonely to a maid or lady-in-waiting.

That’s why she kept to herself, even among those loyal to the Ingram name. It would be her downfall if she exposed this weakness to anyone at all. If there was someone who would dig into her armor, where the cracks were numerous but thoroughly camouflaged, then it would be horrendous.

Her optimism from childhood gradually disappeared as well. As she continued acting like a strong, arrogant, dignified Ingram, she knew very well that no one would call her ‘angel’ now, or embrace her as if she were dearly beloved.

This lonesome girl, who turned seventeen in a blink of an eye, stared blankly out the window, the cool night breeze brushing by her cheeks.

She couldn’t tell if she was shaking because of the chill in the air, or if it was because of her misery.

***

Nadia’s coming-of-age celebration was magnificent.

Eloise, her mother who didn’t seem to care whether her daughter was dead or alive, volunteered to be her chaperone and to be in charge of the preparations for her debutante.

Cynically, she thought the Duchess was doing this only out of obligation. However, there wasn’t an ounce of hope left in her to think that her mother would spare her any attention.

Nadia endured the tight schedule with an aloof expression, uttering not one complaint. She had to undergo several dress and accessory fittings, had to be tested for her etiquette a hundred times, had to practice dance steps that were the trend, and had to memorize the names and faces of the children of powerful families so she could build connections.

The debutante ball, which began early in the evening, was a huge success.

Among the seven girls who debuted that day, Nadia was the one who stood out. Though if everyone were to be honest, it was only because of the name attached to her.

Wearing a dress of light blue silk reminiscent of snow and elaborate accessories made of lilies and pearls, and with her rich brown hair was carefully styled in an updo, everyone’s gazes lingered on her. She did her best to keep a smile on her face and to talk politely, but inside, she felt that she wasn’t any better than high-quality livestock being paraded around at a butcher’s shop.

As she danced and circled the hall, being passed around from one nobleman to another, she suddenly felt that there was a certain dissonance brewing within her.

Her future wouldn’t be any different from the present. Her eventual marriage, which would catch the attention of all those in high society, would only be a product of a carefully strategized union between two households to benefit each other’s families.

It would be harsh and without any warmth, and she would become exactly like the Duchess. All aristocrats lived like this, so she had no choice but to follow this path.

The only good thing about becoming an adult was that she could finally go out alone, although she technically still needed to have a knight or a maid beside her. More than anything else, she was glad that she didn’t need to ask permission from her father or brother, who were both rarely home, anyway.

It was tiring to keep socializing with others when invitations came to her in droves, but she couldn’t ignore every invitation.

At one particular tea party, Nadia heard something interesting.

It was commonplace for young women of her age to exchange stories about men.

Marriage and relationships between a man and a woman, as Nadia had thought, were supposed to be cold and dry, but in these young women’s conversations, such relationships became hot, secretive, passionate. Nadia pretended not to be interested, but she listened intently as she drank her tea.

“It’s good to have fun, but you can’t have an illegitimate child,” said the blond young lady of the Melchard Countdom, who was two years older than Nadia. Not to mention, she was about to be married.

With her outspoken personality, she enjoyed rambling about her ventures, spinning out her stories like they were entire sagas.

The girls, who were brought up like expensive plants in a greenhouse, clearly couldn’t hide their curiosity. Somewhat used to how the Count’s daughter told her stories, the girls urged her to hurry.

In most cases, it was Nadia’s responsibility to keep the conversation going at social gatherings, but if the topic was about men, she couldn’t say a word. It was an unknown world for Nadia. She didn’t even know to what extent she could trust what they said, since she couldn’t discern the truth from lies in this subject matter.

Lady Melchard relented to the urging of the young women around her and carefully unravelled her experiences, and as time went on, her story became ever more colorful. She was about to get married—about to be sent away for the sake of tying together two noble households—but it was unbelievable that she was in the midst of a tryst.

Nadia, who was on the verge of exposing her curiosity, sipped her tea quietly as she listened.