Ah, no. Something did change. The infamy only grew worse. Thanks to a series of incidents, her image became even more tainted—foul-tempered and tyrannical. 

Now, whenever Rosana walked down the corridor, she could hear the servants whispering. 

They said she had changed, that she wasn’t like this before… that only the Madam and Miss Amy were pitiable.

Once, overcome with misery, she stopped dead in the hallway, clutching the hem of her dress with small hands as tears streamed down her face. But no one showed her mercy. 

The maids twisted the truth, saying she was crying from frustration, pointing to those eyes filled with venom. Rosana wanted to scream for someone to bring her a mirror.

Was her expression really like that? Was she truly mistaken about herself? 

Still, those times were better. The point of no return came when a maid was injured by porcelain in a single moment of carelessness. That incident brought drastic change to Rosana’s life.

The memory of that day remained vivid. She regretted it countless times—if only she hadn’t done that… That incident turned her into a wicked young lady who even abused her maids.

What drove the nail deeper into that rumor was the Duchess and Emma, who had always been by her side. Because of them, an indelible mark was branded upon her. 

That incident was enough to render Rosana powerless. Rosana covered her ears and fled from people’s words, but in the end, all she found was the edge of a cliff.

With nowhere left to go, Rosana collapsed where she stood. No matter how much strength she put into her hands, she couldn’t stand up, like her legs were glued to the floor with adhesive. 

People’s whispers, though invisible, clearly strangled her breath. They brought Rosana fear and anxiety.

Whenever Rosana discovered these alien inconsistencies, she thought endlessly. Mother must have had it hard too—she decided to think that way. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to contain this rage and sorrow.

She had already stepped onto the stage, and the black grip would never allow her to leave it.

Rosana was the lead actor on this stage.

She had been appointed as an actor who must play “Rosana Arcadi” as they defined her, forced to perform according to the script they desired.

Rosana’s room displayed ornate decorations made of gold. Anyone who entered would squint from how dazzling it was. 

The pungent scent of roses assaulted the nose. By now, it had become no different from a part of her own body.

At this unpleasant impression, Rosana’s brow furrowed. Vases positioned throughout the room held lush roses. The rose garden outside the window was a garden arranged through her strong protest.

“How strange… I never did that.”

Rosana had merely spoken while looking at the roses decorating the vase, but the maids around her began spouting honeyed words to avoid displeasing her.

“O-of course! How kind Lady Rosana is.”

“Exactly!! Everyone’s just talking without knowing. Your grievances will surely be cleared!”

Rosana watched the corners of their mouths rise excessively and the maids’ trembling hands. 

Their words, shaking with fear, held no sincerity. They trembled in terror that words of rebuke might leave Rosana’s lips, that she might strike them.

She quietly turned her head away from the maids and only stared at the mirror. If she opened her mouth even slightly, they would bang their foreheads on the floor, begging to be spared, pleading to be acknowledged.

What a ridiculously pathetic farce.

Then she wouldn’t speak. It was a lesson learned from how things always flowed in a worse direction the moment her lips parted. Rosana’s eyes gleamed smoothly like empty glass beads. 

Then Emma, Rosana’s personal maid, raised her voice.

“Stop running your mouths and move your hands! Do you girls want to be punished?”

At Emma’s warning tone, the maids’ faces turned deathly pale. At Emma’s words, Rosana smiled, lifting the corners of her mouth to the fullest. 

That smile was directed at Emma, her personal maid, but the maids trembled in fear upon seeing Rosana’s smile. It was a crooked smile.

Emma was her strong ally. Despite being her personal maid, she was someone who wouldn’t listen to Rosana’s words but believed what she said.

The words that began with “The Madam…” were sickening. 

She was the person who always stuck by Rosana’s side, cutting off her hands and feet. She was always the culprit who made situations flow in worse directions.

Emma treated Rosana like an explosive that would detonate at the slightest touch. Emma was the one who struck the maids, claiming it was her duty, yet somehow it became Rosana’s doing more than once or twice. 

But Rosana received all the curses. It wasn’t even that the maid’s sins were the master’s sins.

Everyone thought Rosana had ordered it. Even the maids who were hit by Emma cursed Rosana and didn’t curse Emma—how could it not be absurd?

Some people even encouraged Emma, saying she had it rough. 

Then Emma would say she didn’t want to do that to them either, that she only did it because the young lady ordered her to, apologizing for her wrongdoing. A predictable story even without seeing it. 

Rosana’s eyes darkened bleakly.

Anyone who became her maid would mostly get injured or fired. It wasn’t exactly wrong. The actual perpetrator just wasn’t Rosana.

“I-I’m sorry!! Please, anything but punishment…”

Toward the maid begging for forgiveness, Rosana opened her mouth. She had no intention of blaming or scolding the maid.

“I have no intention…”

“Don’t displease the young lady.”

Emma, who told them not to displease Rosana, cut off Rosana’s words in one stroke. As expected, it was a pointless effort. Whether the maid heard Rosana’s words or not, she kept bowing her head repeatedly.

See? Nothing changes. Just like the maid hurriedly bowed her head deeply, Rosana closed her eyes too.

The maids hastily finished the grooming and left in a rush. Rosana, who had been quietly feeling the series of events, opened her eyes.

It doesn’t matter anyway. The end of the story is approaching.

As soon as the maids left, the sound of a loud sigh came from outside the door. The sound of them comforting each other, saying they worked hard. Like this, the infamy grows again. Rosana thought without emotion. 

She struck at the root cause.

“Get out.”

“But…”

“I said get out.”

“…”

Emma sighed deeply, seemingly having no choice, and opened the door to leave. She shook her head as though treating Rosana like a child, seemingly not understanding why she was acting this way. Rage surged up. Not once had her words been followed straightforwardly.

Her neatly trimmed nails dug into the flesh of her palm. But she soon released the tension. Only the red marks left behind indicated that she had exerted force.

Several times, she had struck Emma for arbitrarily distorting her orders. It was an action she had taken by squeezing out every bit of courage she didn’t have. She had protected the maids.

She had hoped things would change then. That she had never given Emma orders to scold them. She saved the maids from beatings and rescued maids who were about to be expelled from the ducal household.

But all that came back was a reputation for being high-handed, that she even struck the woman who took on the role of personal maid that no one else would accept.

Rosana Arcadi, who knows no gratitude.

At that moment, she despaired once again. At the reality that no one believed her even when she showed them. Rosana rubbed her face in self-loathing. 

Taking it out on Emma wouldn’t change anything. Still, she wanted to breathe, didn’t want to just lose, so she shouted. Even that was becoming increasingly difficult.

She couldn’t remember when she had last comfortably opened her mouth and spoken. No one tried to listen, so even when she tried, she couldn’t.

Everyone distorted her words like they were all in it together. Even when she cried out alone that it wasn’t true, it was only hollow. Even when she screamed that her heart ached unbearably, the words that left Rosana’s lips didn’t reach people.

Rosana, who quietly rose from the vanity, walked calmly to the window. She scoffed at herself for having to change into cumbersome dresses every morning even though she had nowhere to go despite being dressed up.

Currently, Rosana was confined to her room. She couldn’t even open that door that would open with a slight push. Leaning against the window, Rosana heard the chatter of the maids.

“Only Miss Amy is pitiable… Why does she have to have someone like that as her older sister…”

“Hey! Be quiet. Do you want to die?”

With her eyes calmly closed, the voices of the maids listing stories about her reached Rosana’s ears. Rosana ruminated on her own infamy.

There were many phrases that described her.

She is extravagant.

She is tyrannical.

She likes the color red.

She loves His Highness the Crown Prince.

She hates her younger sister Amy Arcadi to death.

She was confused about what was even true. She wished someone would tell her who she really was.

Her body, swept along to the extreme, had long lost the will to resist. With a dazed mind, she listened to the voices coming from outside.

“Hey, did you hear the rumor?”

“What rumor? Are you talking about the neighboring empire?”

“Yeah. They’re devouring the surrounding royal courts left and right. Barbarians…”

“Right… They gained the title of empire thanks to territory won through war, right? We even share a border now… So they’re making an agreement not to invade each other’s territories.”

“Really? Why would we?”

“I don’t know. They must have their reasons.”

The maids rattled off bad stories about the newly formed empire.

There had always been only one empire. Only Astrot. The citizens of Astrot, who prided themselves as cultured people, had pride that pierced the sky. They thought that Astrot, the only empire, had a different level of culture from other nations.

Rosana, who had been listening silently, smiled faintly. Finally, she could escape this detestable place. But that smile looked incredibly sad.

“The Diovaha Empire.”

Rosana also knew about the Diovaha Empire. She knew it wouldn’t end as a kingdom. To be precise, she had heard about it. A long time ago. Rosana wasn’t surprised that this moment had come.

They originally couldn’t even reach the empire’s feet. But Diovaha gradually increased in size, swallowing up the surrounding kingdoms.

The empire, belatedly recognizing the situation, tried to crush them but couldn’t come up with a sharp strategy. The Astrot Empire, which regarded itself as a cultural nation that valued courtesy, couldn’t tolerate such a dishonorable act as attacking first and declaring war.

Moreover, war was a double-edged sword. It required a lot of manpower, funds, and time. They might have waged war if they could easily win, but Diovaha’s reputation had spread even to the haughty Astrot.

The surrounding kingdoms were thoroughly terrified of Diovaha. Many small nations with lax defenses had already knelt before Diovaha and been absorbed. 

They had grown in size suddenly. So they devised a plan. War wasn’t the only method. What Astrot proposed was a peace treaty.

“With marriage as the medium.”

Rosana knew that future. It was what she had always muttered.

You’ll be sold off to the Diovaha Empire later. There, you’ll…

Knock knock.

No sooner had she closed her eyes and recalled those words than the door opened and she approached. The moment Rosana saw that face, she felt the breath she drew in pressing down on her completely. Her breath caught in her throat, but she forced out her voice with difficulty.

“Mother…”

She was Rosana’s mother. Someone who was no longer a mother.

“Rosana…”

Like Rosana, who gazed at the Duchess with complicated feelings, she too looked at Rosana with a pitiful expression, seemingly sad. But the tone that came from her mouth was the complete opposite of her expression.

“Your end has finally arrived. The conclusion of the story is drawing near.”

It wasn’t even surprising anymore. Rosana kept her mouth firmly shut. Rosana calmly brushed off her dress and stood up. 

She faced her squarely. This was her last pride. She absolutely didn’t want to show weakness.

At least not in front of her.

She approached Rosana, who said nothing.

“…”

Though it was clearly a hand with warmth, gently stroking her shoulder, it felt horrifying. Goosebumps rose like her body had been brushed against ice.

She really hasn’t changed.

The hand that had treated me like filth and never touched me. Only now that the end approaches does it touch me.