The office, after Madam Rosé and Raian had swept through it, felt as if a cannon had gone off—its atmosphere sharp and hostile.

The maids, hesitating at the threshold, stepped inside and began tidying the area around my desk while sneaking glances at me. The head maid approached cautiously to ask if she should bring me some warm tea.

“Never mind the tea. Go check on how Jaive is doing.”

She bowed and left.

I sat quietly in my chair, watching the maids move briskly about, and found myself thinking—who had planted the notion that the higher one’s status, the happier one’s life must be?

Even if it looked as though I spent every day in beautiful dresses, eating fine food and enjoying myself, the truth was that I had to claw and fight just to keep up appearances—and there was no happiness in that.

A position where, at times, I had to make ugly decisions, and at others, nonsensical choices, just to be deemed noble.

I was already exhausted by this life, living on sheer endurance.

Negative thoughts swirled violently in my mind, and with the heat prickling at my eyes, it felt as if the ball of fire in my chest might burst forth as tears.

“The young master is awake and has asked to visit, accompanied by the nanny.”

While I had been lost in thought, the head maid had returned from checking on Jaive. Behind her, in the nanny’s arms, my son was gazing at me with clear, bright eyes.

“My darling boy.”

Platinum hair like mine, eyes a vivid amber—such a precious life, my beloved son. Just looking at him made me smile.

Jaive stretched out his arms, as if to escape the nanny and come to me.

Holding his warm, sweet little body in my arms, I felt tears spill before I even realized it.

“I missed you so much, Jaive.”

He babbled back as if answering me. I tickled his tiny palm with my finger and hugged him over and over.

Then, by chance, I turned my head toward the mirror hanging on the wall. Tears were streaming from my eyes, yet I was smiling with happiness—a bundle of contradictions.

‘…I can endure this. I will endure it.’

I would hold out with all my might so that my child would never be hurt by those people in this place.

The time I spent enduring was for Jaive, and I would not waste even a single second of it.

Because that was the reason I was alive.

***

“Sis… cough… do you really have to go out today?”

Sola, who had carefully laid Morant back down on the bed after helping him sit up, reached out to smooth her younger brother’s black hair—only to flinch and pull her hand back. His hair, matted with scalp oil and sweat, caught her eye.

“I’m sorry. But today is an important day, and I have to go.”

“I… my body’s really… cough… not well.”

Sola poured water into a cup and held it out to Morant. The boy’s thin, frail hands trembled as he managed to take just a single sip.

“Just hold on a little longer, Morant. Soon, your medicine will get better, and you’ll be able to see an incredibly skilled doctor.”

Looking at his pallid face, Sola bit down gently on her lower lip.

‘Because this is where the original story begins.’

A novel in which the protagonist, disguised as a man, became a servant in the Duke’s household, received the love of both the Duke and a supporting character, and—after becoming the Duchess—continued to be cherished.

It was a story Sola had once thrown herself into reading, almost as a form of escape, because the protagonist’s name was the same as her own.

On the day she fled from her drunken father, who often struck her, and from her brother, who was so obsessed with streaming that he even stole the tuition money meant for their younger sibling—

The rain had poured down in torrents, and her emotions were running high. She hadn’t even spared a glance for the traffic light. The last thing she remembered was the face of a driver, startled when his brakes failed to stop in time.

And then, when she came to, she was in this world she had only ever imagined.

For days, she had struggled to adapt, unable to believe such an impossible thing had happened.

But then she thought—this world’s protagonist was Sola, and as long as the story followed the original plot, there would be no problem.

‘I… have become someone loved by everyone.’

Sola had always yearned for affection. And here, in this new world, she could finally receive all the love she had so desperately longed for.

‘Good. From now on, I’ll live a life where I’m loved.’

With that thought, even her choppy hair, cut at random with scissors, and the reflection staring back at her from the mirror seemed just fine.

If the story simply flowed as it had in the novel, she had no doubt her future would be filled with a rosy, beautiful time.

“I’ll be back soon, Morant.”

Wearing her younger brother’s shabby clothes, Sola spoke brightly. It was time to head to the slums to meet the male lead of this novel—Duke Stroud.

***

Raian had unilaterally announced that he would be carrying out his inspection of the slums today, instead of two days later as planned.

Because of that, I—who should have been preparing for an outing near the end of the afternoon’s schedule—could only let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Are the security arrangements and travel route ready?”

Baron Christie, standing before me like a man awaiting judgment, shook his head instead of answering.

“Has the official we were supposed to meet that day been informed?”

“My apologies, Madam. I came straight to deliver the news to you, so I haven’t had the chance to send anyone yet.”

An official outing for the Duke and Duchess meant there would be a considerable entourage. There was no way Raian didn’t know that.

I had no idea what petty spite had driven him to make things so difficult.

“Send someone to inform the official that the schedule has been moved up, and assign only the minimum number of guards needed for the escort.”

“Yes, Madam.”

“If you can, delay the departure by about an hour. The official and the knights should at least be given proper time to prepare.”

“Understood.”

“As for those who agreed to assist with the relief effort, see to notifying them yourself.”

Baron Christie bowed deeply in acknowledgment before hurrying out.

Perhaps it was the pressure of having to be fully dressed and ready within the hour, but the maids’ hands moved with heightened urgency.

Sitting before the vanity, the reflection in the mirror looked, more than ever, pitiful today. It annoyed me.

***

On the way to the slums, Raian and I did not exchange a single word.

The chill between us seemed to seep beyond the carriage, affecting even the knights in our escort, who grew tense and overly reactive.

Upon arrival, the official who had come ahead of time bent at the waist in a deep bow.

“It must have been tight. Thank you for your effort.”

For a schedule that had been rearranged so hastily, the inspection party wasn’t bad. The number of escorts was reasonable, the guiding official was present, and some of the relief supplies had already been brought out. Once the remaining supplies were replenished from the camp, the work could likely be wrapped up without issue.

While I was busy overseeing the relief effort, Raian, who had not spoken a word until now, came to stand beside me.

“You truly are a capable woman, Madam—never a careless mistake, never without tact.”

And yet, who had been the one to change the schedule without a hint of tact? I wondered where he had discarded the advice to think before speaking.

“Were you hoping I’d make a mistake? Is that why you moved the schedule forward on a whim?”

“Not at all. Certainly not.”

“A visit to the slums is an official engagement. It’s not something you can treat like a personal errand to do as you please—”

“Enough.”

An unmistakable sign that he had no desire to continue the conversation.

His voice was low enough for only me to hear, yet it carried a threat.

“You’ll manage perfectly well without me. You always have.”

“…”

“I’ll return when it’s nearly over.”

Raian stepped back as he spoke, then pulled a cigar from his pocket, set it between his lips, and turned away.

Left alone in the wide camp, a sudden silence settled around me.

I forced a smile and continued my work so no one else would notice, but I couldn’t stop yet another wound from being carved among the dozens already in my heart.

In truth, there were so many scars by now that one more hardly even showed.

***

‘He should be here by now.’

Sola scanned the wide open space in the slums that was loosely called a square. She wanted to catch sight of the male lead emerging from the camp there.

Though she was aware she had somehow fallen into the world of a novel, nothing had happened yet to make it feel real—and that frightened her.

At this point in the story, she should be assaulted by some thugs. That was when the Duke, upon discovering her, would save her—just as in the original plot.

But what if no one appeared?

‘No… it’ll be fine. I’m the protagonist of this story.’

Clinging to that thought like a prayer, she strolled toward the mouth of an alley a fair distance from the camp.

“Oh—man? Or a woman?”

Men who looked like vagrants whistled from within the alley.

Sola squeezed her eyes shut once before stepping further inside.

“Seems you don’t know it’s dangerous to wander around alone here. Guess we’ll just have to teach you a proper lesson.”

The men who had been sitting on the ground began to stand one by one. Sola placed a hand over her pounding heart and took in a shaky breath.

In the next instant, she was completely surrounded.

“What’s this.”

Amid the raucous, leering laughter of the vagrants, a low, decisive voice cut through.

Sola’s strength left her all at once, and she sank to the ground.

Through the gaps between the men’s legs, she saw the Duke of Stroud, a cigar held loosely between his fingers.

‘It’s real.’

A shiver of exhilaration left her mind blank. One single thought filled her head.

‘Now I can live my whole life… loved. I really have become the protagonist of this world.’

The corners of Sola’s lips twitched upward. One of the vagrants caught sight of that smile and, inexplicably, felt a chill.