“I thought you already knew, so I’m sorry to hear you didn’t. I won’t hide it from you now.”

Raflia Rozantin spoke calmly to the gentlemen who had been appraising her.

“It’s true I was born into the Rozantin family, but as an illegitimate child, I wasn’t acknowledged by the master and was driven out. I grew up in a boarding school and later returned to work as a maid in the Rozantin household.”

Bottom Herriot exclaimed in agitation, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head.

“Stop, stop…!”

“My parents weren’t there from the time I was born…”

“I said stop!”

When Raflia continued regardless, the eldest son, who had been silent until then, shouted while supporting his father.

The hall became noisy. Most people were laughing at the Herriot family.

“You speak so boldly about being illegitimate,” an elderly gentleman said as he approached her with surprise. The word ‘illegitimate’ had erased any trace of sympathy for the girl.

“Because it’s not my fault,” she replied.

Her bold statement caused people to murmur. An atmosphere of reproach surrounded the girl.

He looked her up and down as he spoke. Raflia desperately swallowed the tears welling up inside her.

“I’m surprised Rozantin isn’t so rural that you don’t even know how people feel about illegitimate children.”

“I know very well. An illegitimate child is proof of infidelity. It’s dishonorable by its very existence. That’s why I grew up receiving ab*se and harsh words from people for no reason. Being sent here like merchandise to pay off a debt follows the same logic.”

While the girl spoke without wavering, Mr. Herriot sat down with his sons’ support. He looked as if he might die.

Raflia approached him and his family and said:

“So I apologize. For not being the product Mr. Herriot wanted. And I’m also grateful. Because of this, I was able to be listed in the Rozantin family registry.”

From the girl’s words alone, people could roughly understand what had happened. But as if that wasn’t enough, the eldest son pointed at her.

“So you’re saying you’re the illegitimate child sent in place of Rozantin’s only daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Filthy thing. If there was a defect, you should have said so from the beginning…!”

It was a ridiculous farce. An old man who spent a fortune wanting a young noblewoman as his wife, and a noble family who put an illegitimate child on their registry for money.

As the girl said, who was at fault?

No one could boldly accuse the girl of any wrongdoing.

Having said everything she wanted to say, Raflia bit her lower lip firmly. It was because of the tears that kept welling up.

Holding back those tears, Raflia said one last thing:

“The contract has already been fulfilled, so Mr. Herriot cannot cancel it. Whether you chase me away or keep me is your freedom, Mr. Herriot.”

* * *

The sun had set.

‘I’ve killed time well today too.’

Lesion was smoking a cigarette in a corner of the mansion garden. Looking at the sky, he saw a full moon with stars scattered across it.

Almost midnight.

The man exhaled toward the sky. The resulting grayish mist obscured the moon.

His hair, previously slicked back with pomade, had fallen down to prick at his eyes. His tie was loosened, and his vest and jacket were undone.

“An illegitimate child… such a little thing, yet so outspoken.”

He recalled what Deveron had said as the gathering dispersed. Benderson, who had come to his side to observe the situation, had praised the girl.

Raflia, who had boldly stated that being an illegitimate child was not her fault. Remembering her, Lesion gave a small snort.

What fault is there in being illegitimate?

It wasn’t simply a fault—it was original sin.

She probably wanted to say what sin was there in being born, and didn’t want her very existence to be denied.

But without your parents’ sin, you wouldn’t have been born either.

The more precious one’s life becomes, the more one must be grateful even for that sin. That was the position of an illegitimate child.

Lesion’s cold gaze was already directed toward the girl in the distance.

“Get out… get out! You filthy b*stard!”

There was a commotion near the entrance of the mansion.

The eldest son of Mr. Herriot’s voice was loud. The Herriot household servants were carrying several of the woman’s trunks and loading them onto a carriage.

The night air was cold. The woman, with her robe pulled low over her head, slowly descended the mansion’s entrance steps and boarded the carriage.

The eldest son snatched the woman’s last piece of luggage from a servant and threw it down the stairs.

With a clatter, the trunk tumbled down the steps.

So she was thrown out after all.

Through the open carriage door, he could see the woman with her head bowed. The white hem of her dress fluttered beneath her red robe.

Lesion slightly furrowed his brow.

He wondered if it was the scent of garden flowers. The man took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled. The smoke dispersed in the cold night breeze.

Through that smoke, he saw the woman again. Her sobbing voice could be faintly heard.

Lesion withdrew his gaze and threw down his cigarette b*tt, crushing it under his shoe. Then he turned around and walked in the opposite direction from her.

He sighed.

Still, it was regrettable.

* * *

Raflia repeatedly wiped away the tears that kept flowing. No matter how many times she wiped them, they continued to fall.

It was for the best. Thanks to revealing her illegitimate status, she had been freed from the Herriot household. Even if Bottom Herriot complained to the Rozantin family about this, that was their problem.

Raflia’s personal freedom had already been secured.

‘It’s okay, I’ve overcome this hurdle. Now that this is over, I’ll go to the capital and look for work. Even if it’s a humble job, I’ll manage on my own.’

While she was collecting herself, the carriage continued racing somewhere.

She absently watched the dark buildings of the street passing by through the window, before belatedly realizing something strange.

She hadn’t yet told the coachman her destination…

She knocked on the window toward the coachman and called out.

“Sir, where are we going?”

“…”

There was no answer. Raflia continued knocking on the window, but the coachman pretended not to hear and didn’t even turn his head.

The carriage was speeding along at full speed, and the night was deepening. As the speed increased and the streets became more deserted, Raflia began to feel terrified like a mouse caught in a trap.

“Stop… please stop!”

Raflia desperately knocked on the window and shouted, but the coachman remained silent.

After a while, the carriage suddenly stopped in a desolate factory district where tall buildings had disappeared. The factory district, bustling during the day, became dead quiet at night.

Raflia couldn’t easily open the carriage door and get out. This was a strange place in a foreign country where she had no connections.

The strange silence lasted only a moment. Suddenly, the carriage door flung open.

“Y-you…”

It was Mr. Herriot’s eldest son. Unlike at the party, his eyes were red with anger as he spat out curses.

“You crazy b*tch… were you planning to just run away?”

Raflia was startled and reached for the opposite door, but before she could, the man rushed in and dragged her out.

“D*mn it! Do you know how much I paid for you? To please that damned old man!”

The man roughly grabbed Raflia’s dress and hair and pulled. Raflia resisted to avoid being dragged, but it only increased her pain.

“Because of this incident, the will might be changed!”

“Let go, let me go! It’s already over. If it’s about the debt, the Rozantin family—”

Slap! The man struck Raflia’s cheek. For a moment, Raflia couldn’t continue speaking due to the stinging pain.

Meanwhile, the man, unable to control his anger, kept muttering while breathing heavily.

“Did that old hag from your house tell you? That there was a debt? That they had no choice? Did she convince you like that? No, they just sold you off.”

The man started dragging Raflia by her collar again. As he did so, he muttered, “No wonder it was so cheap…”

Raflia tried scratching and hitting the hand that held her clothes, but it was useless.

“Let go, I said let go!”

“Shut up, unless you want a beating!”

“I’ll report you to the police!”

“Police? Hmph, say whatever you want. There won’t be any witnesses. You’ll just be pointed at as a crazy illegitimate girl.”

“Please don’t do this… this is a crime!”

“Kyaaak!” she screamed, but the man dragged her into a narrow alley between factories and threw her down.

It was darkness itself. Raflia quickly got up, but all she could do was back deeper into the alley, away from the man.

“P-please… let me go. If you touch me… I-I won’t let it slide.”

Her voice trembled with fear. Now the man was completely hidden in darkness, only his silhouette visible.

The man snorted.

“After all the money I spent, I need to vent my anger somehow.”

“T-that’s for the Rozantin family to—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get the money back from the Rozantin family separately. First, I’ll sell you off somewhere else…”

Thud. Her back hit a cold wall. Raflia, who had been backing away, finally reached a dead end. Realizing this, the man let out an unpleasant chuckle. A chill ran down Raflia’s spine.

“Actually, isn’t this better? At least your first partner won’t be a disgusting old man.”

The man slowly approached. Raflia’s legs gave way, and she slumped down. At that moment, her fingertips touched a stone.

She gripped it tightly as if it were her last resort.

“When you were running your mouth at the engagement ceremony, you thought you were something… huh?”

“D-don’t come closer… I warned you!”

Despite her warning, the man lunged at Raflia. She swung the stone at him with all her might.

Thud!

“Argh…!”

With a dull noise, the man fell.

Raflia froze. The stone fell from her hand as her strength left her.

What just happened? I’m sure I missed…

“Aaaaargh!”

At that moment, from the pitch-black void, she heard footsteps and the sound of something being dragged away.

“What the h*ll, what is this! Let… let go, you crazy b*stard!”

That didn’t last long either.

“Urgh…!”

Thud, thud, thud… The man’s groans and dull noises continued without stopping.

What’s happening?

She slowly got up and moved forward, feeling her way along the wall. Finally, as she emerged from the alley, she saw Mr. Herriot’s eldest son sprawled on the ground, struggling.

“I-I’m sorry, my lord. I was wrong!”

After being one-sidedly beaten, he suddenly stood up, knelt down, and began begging his opponent with both hands.

As if that wasn’t enough, he removed his watch, ring, and tie pin and placed them at the man’s feet.

“This is all I have. If it’s not enough, I can go home right now and—urgh!”

As he spoke, he was kicked in the face again by the man’s shoe.

Raflia hesitantly looked at the back of the man who was stepping on Mr. Herriot’s eldest son. Under the faint moonlight, the man with a visibly robust build looked every bit the gentleman. However, now he had one hand in his pants pocket, a cigarette in the other, and was beating the man with just one foot. It was a one-sided ass*ult.

In the middle of the unpaved road, the eldest son was being rolled and kicked, becoming a complete mess. The jewelry he had offered was soiled with dust.

The man repeated this action for a long time without saying a word.

The eldest son, continuously beaten, gathered his remaining strength and clung to the man’s trouser leg. He begged for his life, rubbing his face against it.

“D*mn it, please spare me… I won’t report this to the police…”

In response, the man tilted his head to one side as if quite annoyed, then took out the hand from his pocket, grabbed the man’s hair, and threw him down mercilessly.

And again, the brutal violence resumed. The man seemed to find it a tedious task, as if he were handling a boring chore.

Thud, thud, thud… Mr. Herriot’s eldest son gradually stopped moving.

Raflia, holding her breath behind them, clenched her fist and said:

“Um… excuse me…”

It was such a faint voice that she doubted he heard it, but his actions stopped abruptly. After a moment of silence, the man turned his head to look at her.

The man’s face was revealed under the moonlight. Furrowed brow, empty gaze. Hair that had fallen to cover his eyes due to his actions…

He took a long drag from his cigarette and threw it away. The man continued to stare at Raflia and said:

“What.”

Acrid smoke rose from between his parted lips.