~Chapter 3~
Camilla stared in shock, her stomach churning despite the fullness she had felt just moments ago. The Baron swept her into a sudden embrace.
“Well done, Camilla!”
He whispered to her, his voice low and conspiratorial.
“Ours is a house of great renown, so from time to time, villains try to poison us through our food. The Everetts, for instance.”
“…The Everetts?”
“Yes, scoundrels damned by heaven itself. Now, it seems we can finally have a proper family meal. Off you go, Camilla.”
At his command and a single clap, the servants dragged the chef away, and the maid ushered Camilla out of the hall.
“I will show you to your room.”
Family meal?
Even as she trailed after the maid, Camilla remained dazed. She wanted to ask why she was separated from her father and family at mealtimes, and what had truly been in the gnocchi she’d tasted. But the weight of the atmosphere kept her silent.
As Camilla reached her new room—
“So you’re the new mutt?”
“Young Master Ares,” the maid said.
A boy leaned with a rebellious slouch against the door. He was handsome, but his green eyes glimmered with something that made Camilla uneasy.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Ares.”
His crooked smile matched his crooked words, but hearing him addressed as “Young Master,” Camilla’s eyes brightened.
“If you’re a Young Master, does that mean you’re my brother? I’m—”
She stopped short, pain jabbing her chin—Ares had seized her jaw in a cruel grip.
“I know. You’re the family’s bastard. The new mutt, here to scrounge from the house.”
She tried to push his hand away, but he barely budged.
“I’m not a mutt! I’m the Baron’s daughter!”
“Really? Well, I’m the Baroness’s nephew. But if you think you belong here, shouldn’t you have noticed—none of the maids are stopping me.”
Camilla, who had tried to fight, suddenly faltered. The maid simply looked on, unmoved.
Ares leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper.
“The Baron only has two daughters in this house: Nina, and that airheaded girl. That’s it.”
Then, without warning, he grabbed Camilla by the wrist and dragged her along.
She resisted, but when they reached the window looking over the banquet hall, she froze in place.
“Look. See what I mean?”
Through the glass, she saw the Baron at the center, beside him a stately lady, and opposite them, a lovely blond girl—Nina. The child laughed, reaching for more pudding, unopposed. The Baron stroked his daughter’s hair, the lady’s smile was gentle, their affection unmistakable.
“I heard everything. They say you’re fine even after eating poison. Impressive.”
Camilla flinched.
“All the others—every bastard or distant kin who came before you—just ate and died.”
What?
Ares sneered.
“You’re just a dog. A tester to sniff out poison. If you don’t prove your worth, you’ll end up a corpse tossed out of this house.”
His eyes blazed.
“But even dogs come in breeds. Just watch—I’ll tear those Everett bastards apart and become the adopted heir!”
Camilla stared at him, dazed, at the venom in his eyes.
Illegitimate children and collateral kin cannot take the family name until they prove their worth. Until then, they’re not allowed at the family table.
So Ares had told her. To be recognized, Camilla would have to fend off the Everetts and prove herself useful.
And the Everetts… what are they?
Sworn enemies. The previous heads fought a duel over the lands and killed each other.
Ares had snickered.
The Everetts were a family of knights as prestigious as the Mowins. Fifty years ago, Everett was granted an estate; the Mowins tried to seize it through a duel, resulting in the mutual destruction of both heads of house.
Thus began a blood feud.
They send spies and poison each other all the time. Your job is to check for poison, too.
I’ve been good. Isn’t that enough to be useful?
It was the head maid who revealed Camilla’s true purpose, dragging her down to the cellars and ordering her to look through the bars.
Ah!
Inside was a sight too gruesome to bear. A man, shackled and covered in blood, begged for death.
“This one was taken by the enemy—by Everett. He took an antidote and pretended to be unpoisoned.”
The maid seized Camilla’s chin, forcing her to look.
“Others have been brought here as well, but none but the Baroness’s nephew Ares proved useful—they were all disposed of.”
She spoke coldly to trembling Camilla.
“Betray the family, and only death awaits. So you’d best be both useful and well-behaved, young lady.”
From then on, Camilla was given lessons in “food testing,” her terror of the mansion growing day by day. Each meal, she tasted the dishes, checking for poison, and that was her entire meal.
One day, as the Baron watched her eat, he muttered,
“You’re doing well, but these days the enemy seldom uses poison. It’s making you seem rather useless.”
That was when her true torment began. The servants began to ignore her, treating her like air.
Can’t you eat faster?
…Sorry.
Even Yuli, her assigned maid, grew impatient, scolding her for making them late after food testing.
Except for mealtime, Camilla was left alone in her room.
Hey, bark for me!
Ares would come to provoke her.
Camilla wanted to be good and obedient in this “precious place,” but it grew harder to know how to go on.
Mother…
Even though she’d been abandoned, life with her mother had been better than this.
One day, Camilla gathered her courage and went to her father.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Father. But, when will I—”
All she wanted was to ask when she might see her mother again, since she had tried so hard to be good.
She failed to notice who stood at his side: the Baroness, whose icy gaze made Camilla catch her breath.
“Shall I take charge of this child’s education, my lord?”
“Of course, I entrust her education to you.”
The Baroness led Camilla straight to where the maids were assembled.
“Who let this child run wild? Even ignorant servants know to use proper titles for their masters.”
Her words were cold as frost.
“Who is this girl’s maid?”
At once, Yuli was dragged before them and severely beaten.
Afterwards, the Baroness turned to Camilla.
“What do you call the gentleman you saw earlier?”
Camilla replied, trembling.
“The Baron… He is the Baron.”
“Good. Be as if you are here, but not here. Live quietly, unseen.”
Not “Father.”
Not “Mother.”
Just “the Baron.”
Just “the Baroness.”
Camilla sank to the floor as the Baroness’s heels clicked away. No one came to help her—only Yuli’s hostile glare remained.
What am I supposed to do?
Ares told her to prove her worth. The Baroness told her to live as if she were invisible.
Lost in confusion, Camilla hid behind a pillar and gazed blankly at the garden.
There, a girl with hair like spring forsythia ran and played.
Nina.
The true young lady of this house.
The only daughter, her face shone with a radiant, noble beauty. Camilla nearly cried at how lovely she was.
Just then, the girl’s gaze met hers, eyes wide in surprise.
Ah!
Startled, Camilla bowed her head.
The Baroness told me to live as if I weren’t here!
“Young lady!”
Bowing did her no good. Nina hurried over, skirts fluttering.
“Who are you? You’re so fair and dark—like Snow White! You’re beautiful!”
No one had ever said such words to Camilla before; she felt her face flush.
“You’re much prettier…”
She barely whispered the words, and Nina’s laughter blossomed like a flower.
Then, Nina caught Camilla’s hand.
“I’m Nina. Let’s play together!”
