Kyla froze at the sudden gunshot, her breath catching so sharply that she couldn’t scream.

The boy had a firm grip on her arm and was covering her eyes to prevent her from seeing anything. Even so, it was clear that something terrible had happened.

The sharp smell of gunpowder mingled with the metallic scent of blood. Kyla’s heart pounded violently. After a long while of moving her lips soundlessly, she finally managed to speak.

“W-what happened? That gunshot… it was a gun, right?”

“Just stay like this for a moment.”

There was no trace of agitation in the boy’s voice.

Since the owner of the voice sounded so calm, Kyla tried to convince herself that nothing had happened to the horse.

Right. That must be it.

She repeatedly reassured herself that everything would be fine, yet she couldn’t bring herself to push away the large hand covering her eyes.

She felt that if she opened her eyes, she would see something she should never witness.

Her tightly clenched hands gradually grew damp with sweat.

“The horse… it’s okay, right? Why did you fire the gun?”

At Kala’s question, the boy remained silent for a long time before gently releasing her arm. The hand covering her eyes also disappeared.

Kyla couldn’t bring herself to check what had happened. With anxious eyes, she looked up at the boy instead.

“It was euthanasia.”

Euthanasia?

Her scalp prickled. It was a word she had never heard before, yet she instinctively felt it carried no good meaning.

“Wh-what… does that mean?”

“It means showing mercy so that something can die peacefully.”

Die peacefully? Mercy?

How could death ever be merciful?

Kyla’s jaw trembled as she slowly turned her gaze towards the stable.

People were carrying the horse away on a cart. Its four legs hung limp and motionless. It was hard to believe that those same legs had powerfully run across the green grass just moments ago.

Nausea rose in her throat, and she quickly covered her mouth with both hands. The boy watched her silently for a moment before speaking again.

“It’s better to let it die without pain now. If you keep it alive out of half-hearted sympathy, the agony will only grow worse.”

“But… that’s just what you think, isn’t it? Even if it’s in pain, that horse might not want to die!”

Tears streamed down both her cheeks as she raised her voice at him.

“Who can know what a horse feels? No one knows the heart of a horse. And a horse can’t foresee what kind of future awaits it. Just like you right now.”

The boy spoke coldly, his thick brows drawn together.

“We’re not gods. No one can know what is truly right. We simply make the best choice we can.”

You don’t know what’s right? Killing a horse just because its leg is broken is the best choice?

She shook her head violently.

“No! Even so, this isn’t right!”

As soon as she shouted at the boy, Kyla turned around and ran towards the stadium stands.

Everything felt wrong. She ran and ran, sobbing uncontrollably, her vision blurred by tears. She could hardly see where she was going.

By the time she returned, her cheeks wet and her breathing heavy, her father had already gone out to search for her.

When her mother asked what had happened, Kyla lied, saying that she had fallen on her way back from the toilet.

There were no signs of a fall on her arms, face or dress, yet her mother did not ask any further questions.

Kyla never told anyone what had happened that day. She felt that if she refused to speak of it, the event might simply disappear.

She wanted to forget everything about that day. However, the more she tried to forget, the more vividly every moment returned to her, especially the boy’s twisted expression.

In her mind, the thin legs of the dying horse overlapped with the image of her father’s limp arm hanging from the stretcher as he was carried away beneath a white cloth. This created complete chaos in her thoughts.

Desperately, Kyla tried to push the terrible memories away. Yet despite insisting she wasn’t sleepy, her eyelids slowly began to close.

Before she knew it, she had fallen into a deep sleep.

How much time had passed?

Just as the rattling of the carriage stopped, she heard a gentle voice calling her name.

Kyla struggled to open her eyes.

“Kyla, did you sleep well?”

Uncle Andrew stood outside the open carriage door, looking down at her with the bright sunlight pouring over his back.

“Have we arrived?”

“Yes. Can you get down?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Kyla took Uncle Andrew’s hand and stepped slowly out of the carriage.

Everything looked completely different to Snowden. Buildings stretched along the road in long rows, with almost identical structures lining the opposite side of the street. There was no sign of a yard anywhere.

The four-storey house that she entered after following Uncle Andrew was the Feilding family’s townhouse. According to Uncle Andrew, this is where they stayed during the social seasons of spring and autumn.

Although smaller than the Snowden estate, the building was still quite large compared to the surrounding houses. It looked newly built and immaculately clean.

As soon as they stepped into the entrance hall, a blonde lady in a green dress came forward to greet them.

“You’ve returned.”

With graceful movements, the blonde lady took Uncle Andrew’s silk hat and handed it to a maid.

A faint smile appeared on her lips as she looked at Kyla.

“So this is Kyla.”

The lady stepped closer and gazed quietly at Kyla’s face for a long moment.

“She resembles her quite a bit. Stella.”

Her mother’s name slipped from the lady’s lips. There was no doubt she had known her mother.

“Hello.”

Kyla swallowed nervously and gave the lady a small curtsey.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you, Kyla. My name is Melissa Feilding. But… from now on, you should call me Mother.”

Something about the way she looked at her felt strangely cold, and Kyla could only fidget with the innocent gloves on her hands.

Mrs. Feilding instructed a maid to show Kyla to her bedroom and then left for somewhere else.

‘Is there something urgent she needs to attend to? She doesn’t dislike me, does she?’

Kyla forced herself to push away the anxious thoughts.

“You must be tired after such a long journey. Go in and get some rest.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Kyla smiled at Uncle Andrew, who was looking at her warmly, before immediately following the maid.

Her bedroom was on the third floor. It was far larger than she had expected. Everything in it was new and nicer than the things she had left behind in Snowden.

As she looked around the unfamiliar room, Kyla noticed the young maid standing quietly beside her, waiting for instructions.

“My name is Kyla. What’s yours?”

“Yes, Miss Kyla. My name is Mary. I’ll be serving you from now on.”

Mary smiled brightly.

“Alright, Mary. I look forward to working with you.”

Kyla smiled back and was just about to ask her a few questions when there was a knock at the door.

When Mary opened it, some servants came in carrying trunks. They quietly put the trunks on the floor and left again.

Three trunks.

That was all she had left.

Still, she considered herself fortunate not to have been sent to an orphanage. Now she had a lovely room and a new family.

‘I should be grateful.’

Steeling herself, Kyla followed Mary into the bathroom attached to the room.

Kyla was startled. The bathroom was almost as large as a regular room. And both the sink and the bathtub had two faucets each.

“Mary, why are there two faucets?”

When Kyla asked in confusion, Mary answered with a smile.

“One is for cold water, and the other is for hot water.”

“My goodness… You don’t even have to heat the water. Ashton really is different.”

“Not every house in Ashton has hot water. This is one of the most luxurious homes on Simon Street in Ashton.”

While helping Kyla remove her dress, Mary continued explaining that Uncle Andrew might not hold a title, but he was a landowner with a vast estate in Orland, and his wife, Mrs. Feilding, came from a baronial family.

“You must have been with the Feilding family for a long time, Mary. You know so much about them.”

“Anyone who lives on Simon Street knows these things.”

Mary shrugged as if it were nothing.

“You’re very fortunate to have been adopted by the Feilding family, Miss. They are much richer than most noble families. They are kind to everyone, even maids like us, so just imagine how well they’ll treat you.”

As she bathed Kyla, Mary continued to sing Mrs Feilding’s praises, speaking of how warm and wonderful she was.

But Kyla couldn’t quite understand it. She hadn’t experienced any of the kindness or warmth that Mary described from Mrs Feilding herself.

Perhaps ladies of her age were simply like that. Or maybe Mrs Feilding was just shy around strangers. After all, Kyla thought, it was only natural that a child like her couldn’t fully understand adults.

Her late mother had always said.

“Don’t worry about things you can’t control. Think about what you can do instead.”

Yes. There was no point in speculating about Mrs. Feilding.

Kyla decided she would simply focus on what she could do to become a good daughter to the woman who had adopted her.

***

Kyla Snowden became Kyla Feilding.

Perhaps because she tried so hard to be a good daughter, the initial coldness she had felt from Mrs Feilding gradually faded.

Mrs Feilding carefully prepared everything Kyla might need.

She had a private study. Books for her to read and learn from. New piano sheet music. She also provided dozens of beautiful dresses and shoes, along with expensive hats and gloves.

Unless something special came up, Kyla spent her mornings playing the piano. Every afternoon, tutors arrived to teach her reading, arithmetic, the Meissen language, and piano.

Once a day, at seven in the evening, she shared dinner with her adoptive parents.

Whenever she was overcome with a longing for her late mother or was kept awake by nightmares about the day her father took his own life, she would stay up all night reading.

On days when memories of the house in Snowden came to the fore, Kyla would go for walks with Mary in Hien Park. The wide green lawns and flocks of mallards gliding across the lake would always ease the weight on her heart.

One day in December, about a month after she arrived to stay with the Feilding family, it happened again.

Mr and Mrs Feilding were out, and Kyla was playing the piano in the drawing room as usual.

Since it was winter, the warmth from the fireplace alone wasn’t enough to loosen her stiff fingers, so she spent a long time practicing scales.

Once her fingers had finally grown flexible, she began playing her favorite composer Schopenhauer’s etude, ‘Revolution’.

Her late mother hadn’t liked the piece, saying it had far too many notes. But Kyla loved it precisely for that reason.

The brilliant scales flowing through the left hand, together with the fierce octaves and chords struck by the right, completely captivated her.

After playing the etude from beginning to end without stopping, she let out a long, breathless sigh.

At that moment, she heard applause behind her.

Startled, she quickly turned around.

Leaning casually against the doorway was a tall, handsome young man with blonde hair and a gentle smile.