Side Story: Lily of the Valley

She knows all too well what happens when a person becomes consumed by desire. It would be the same as her father’s case. Throughout her life, she had never seen anyone with a greater desire than her father.

Her life under his rule was akin to darkness. Despite being the lady of a high-ranking ducal family, she often felt no different from a rat scavenging through the gutters. As someone who grew up as a weakling, the human nature she experienced was filthy and rotten to the core. And amidst the rats that rolled in the muck without even thinking of hiding their stench, she suddenly realized one thing.

Young nobles might not know this, but the true successor of the Quinnie Duchy is not the Duke, but the Duchess, Remia Queenie. The former Queenie Lady had to step into the role of the family heir after her brother’s accidental death. However, the previous Duke Queenie, believing that she could not become a perfect successor after a lifetime of bridal training, chose to bring in a second son from another noble family as her husband. Thus, the current Duke, lacking strong support from vassals, ceded much authority to the Duchess, who had their backing.

There was one secret within the Queenie family that could not be disclosed to others: Duchess Remia Queenie was infertile. The Queenie family, which had no cadet branches and had to elevate an unprepared Remia Queenie to the heir position, had to keep her infertility a secret. If the family lineage could not continue, there was no telling how their enemies might exploit the situation.

“Bring that child before me.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Remia, lost in thought for a while, turned to the maids standing demurely beside her. Even though she hadn’t clearly instructed them whom to bring, one maid quickly understood and left the room. The other maids watched their mistress, who was once again lost in thought while caressing a steaming cup, with tense anticipation.

“Rita,” she called.

“Yes, Madam,” replied one of the maids.

“Which family does that child belong to?”

“The second child of Baron von,” the maid answered.

“A baron’s family, huh,” Remia muttered with a faintly contemptuous whisper, causing all the maids, including the one who answered, to lower their heads and hold their breath. They sensed their mistress’s displeasure from that one phrase.

“Foolish,” she spat out. Though the rebuke was directed at her husband, everyone in the room felt it was aimed at the woman who was about to enter, and they trembled with fear. They all knew that their mistress showed no mercy.

At the sound of a knock, the maids opened the door at her gesture. A maid, dragging a woman into the room, bowed her head.

“I have brought her as you requested.”

“Bring her closer.”

The maids lifted the fallen woman by her arms and moved her a few steps closer until she was at Remia’s feet, trembling and with her head bowed low. Remia looked down at her with disinterest.

“So, you claim to carry my husband’s child.”

“……”

“You’d better answer unless you want that useless mouth of yours ripped open.”

“Y-yes, yes, I-I am… I am carrying his child…” the woman stammered.

The woman burst into tears, unable to continue speaking, but Remia only calmly raised her teacup to her lips. Despite the fear that gripped everyone around her, she alone remained composed.

“Let me see your face. I am truly curious about my husband’s taste.”

At her words, laced with a hint of laughter, the maids quickly grabbed the woman’s face and lifted her head. As their eyes met, Remia erased the faint smile from her lips and stared directly at the woman.

“…Oh, this is… a new way to disgust me.”

“…….”

“You, your eye color is similar to mine… how filthy.”

It seems my husband needed a toy he could keep beneath him. Her indifferent tone made the maids gasp in shock. Remia looked coldly at the woman kneeling before her. With her dull silver hair that showed signs of dye and her rare opal-colored eyes, she was so easy to read.

“Marilyn, bring the housekeeper and him here. The rest of you wait in the next room.”

At her command, the maids quickly bowed and disappeared, leaving the room empty except for the two of them. Remia then grabbed the woman’s face again, lifting it to meet her gaze.

“I’ll give you a chance.”

“W-what… what kind of chance…?”

“The chance to become the mother of my child. Oh, and of course, to keep your worthless life.”

“……!”

The woman’s eyes widened in shock as Remia whispered seductively.

“You’ll pretend your child is mine. You need your life, and I need a child. It’s a good deal, don’t you think?”

That day, all of the maids attending to Remia were executed for various reasons. The maids were all from fallen noble families, and news of their execution would have been the talk of the social circles. However, this news was quietly buried as everyone’s attention was drawn to another significant announcement: the pregnancy of Duchess Remia Queenie.

“How dare they… how dare they!”

“…….”

“The Knight family dares to reject my deal? A mere marquis family! I am one of only three dukes in the Empire!”

The child trembled in fear, keeping silent in the face of her father’s drunken rage. She knew from experience that speaking up would only earn her a slap. The Duke, excessively agitated with anger, picked up a bottle and smashed it on the floor, not caring whether the child was standing right in front of him. The shards left cuts on the child’s legs, but the Duke didn’t even glance at her.

“What on earth is that b*tch Remia thinking? I’m the Duke, so why does she keep stripping me of my authority…!”

He quickly found another target for his uncontrollable anger. As the direct descendant of the Queenie family, the Duchess held priority, and her words carried more weight with the loyal retainers who had served the Queenie family for generations. Always fearing that she might take away his title, the Duke often vented his frustration on the child, summoning her to be his punching bag.

“It’s because of you. It’s all because of you! Ever since you took on the Queenie name, that b*tch has been ignoring me! If only you weren’t here, if only you…!”

The Duke, his eyes bloodshot with rage, approached the child, raising his hand high. The child, who shared Remia’s eye color, was the primary target of the Duke’s abuse. Standing there quietly, she braced herself for the impending pain, squeezing her eyes shut and curling into herself.

As Daisy Queenie grew older, the influence of the Duchess within the household grew even stronger. The Duke, increasingly overshadowed by Remia, was gradually becoming a mere figurehead. By the time Daisy turned eight, the Duke’s anger began to shift to fear. The anxiety that Remia might completely usurp his position gnawed at him. His only child was Daisy, a mere illegitimate daughter, which made his situation all the more precarious.

Around that time, the Duke’s rage began to focus more on Daisy Queenie’s usefulness rather than venting on Remia. He harbored the naive hope that if Daisy proved her worth, he could maintain his position as her father. But aside from this desperate hope, he had no other strategies left.

“Is this all you can do? Is this how you repay the kindness of feeding and sheltering you all this time?”

“……”

“Rose Knight, that girl is already getting involved in the merchant business! And yet the young lady of the Queenie Duchy can’t even do this!”

Whenever the Duke berated young Daisy, he would always mention Rose Knight. Compared to her peers, the only other duchess of her age, Roxana, had returned to her fiefdom and no news had emerged about her. In contrast, the stories of Rose, who had been tutored by various scholars from a young age, had been wildly exaggerated. Daisy constantly had to live up to these comparisons.

The story about the jewelry business was particularly tormenting for Daisy. It was said that Rose Knight had suggested the idea of making jewelry bouquets as gifts to save the family’s jewelry business, which was on the verge of bankruptcy. This greatly angered the Duke, who had invested most of his secret funds in another jewelry business.

“They say Rose Knight might become the Crown Princess. Do you know how much effort I’ve put into getting you into that position, only for these rumors to ruin everything!”

The Duke, who had been away from the mansion since morning, called Daisy over as soon as he returned and began to rant.

“Remia met with the vassals again today. I am the Duke, yet…”

Daisy bowed her head in fear, facing her father, who was still consumed by greed and ignorance of his place. She instinctively sensed the harsh words that would follow.

“It’s all because you can’t achieve what Rose Knight does! Useless thing! Stories of Rose Knight have already spread throughout the royal palace, but you can’t even create such rumors about yourself!”

After a long silence, Daisy was only able to leave the office after the ink bottle shattered around her. Even as she closed the door, her hands trembled uncontrollably. It was only after her hands slipped from the doorknob that she let out a sigh and collapsed to the floor.

She was utterly sick of the name “Rose Knight,” constantly invoked by her nearly deranged father. The ceaseless verbal abuse and violence, urging her to surpass that name, ate away at her every day.

Despite starting her studies later than most noble children, Daisy had fought tooth and nail to catch up, driven by the hateful words that echoed in her ears like hallucinations. She plugged her ears and threw herself into her studies.

Most scholars now praised Daisy’s achievements, but the Duke, with his perpetually dissatisfied expression, would often send them away. He would never be content until he heard that his last tool had surpassed Rose Knight.

For over ten years, Daisy Queenie had lived in the shadow of Rose Knight, a phantom that haunted her life. Although she had never met this person, she believed that Rose Knight had trampled over most of her life. She turned her gaze away from her source of fear, her father, and nurtured hatred towards a wrong target.

‘Rose Knight, if only you didn’t exist… I could have lived so much happier!’

From the moment she was born, her father had never spoken a kind word to her, and her mother looked at her as if she were an inanimate object. She was never welcomed anywhere. Yet, through the occasional mentions by others, the world of Rose Knight seemed to be full of happiness, mocking her miserable existence.

The Knight family’s mansion was rumored to be vast and beautiful, with Rose Knight’s room filled with countless dolls, and the gifts her two brothers, who were said to be talented in swordsmanship, brought home every time they returned. Even the Marquis and his wife were said to be so proud of their daughter that they couldn’t stop boasting about her.

Hearing these stories from afar made it seem like Rose Knight lived in a completely different world from Daisy. This only fueled her hatred further. How could Rose Knight live in such a happy world while she was trapped in this hellish pit?

Even as her father beat her or her mother ignored her as if she didn’t exist, Daisy gritted her teeth and repeated Rose Knight’s name, vowing to one day return this hell to Rose Knight.

There was no fault in Rose Knight, but Daisy, following her father’s example, chose the weaker target. There were no adults around to correct her misguided thoughts. Instead, there were only three rats scurrying through different gutters.

She knew all too well what happens when people are consumed by their desires. She was sure that they would end up just like her father.

Her life, dominated by her father, was shrouded in darkness. Despite being a noble lady from a prestigious ducal family, she felt no different from a rat rummaging through the sewers. Growing up as a weakling, she perceived human nature as filthy and rotten.

(Continued from the The Night Affairs of the Extra Marquis’s Beloved, Volume 2)