The mansion’s gloom extended beyond its exterior.

Even after passing through the grand entrance into the hall, the chill in the air remained. Their footsteps echoed along the corridor, following the line of flickering candles.

Leni’s eyes lingered on them. In her home, such candles had been a luxury, lit one at a time. Here, however, they were spaced evenly along the walls, yet the corridor was still heavy with shadow, as though no number of flames could drive the darkness away.

Lowering her gaze to the dim floor at her feet, she remembered her own house, where the simple crackle of a fire in the hearth had lit up the whole room.

“Did you spend your day well?”

Once the meal had been cleared away, the dining table was transformed into a quiet place for evening work. Her mother sewed with steady, practiced hands, while Ilenia held the long knitting needles tightly.

The soft rasp of cloth brushing against itself filled the room, steady and soothing. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with her mother, Leni breathed in the gentle sweetness of her skin until sleep crept over her like a warm embrace.

She had always loved the scent of soup simmering on the hearth. It was the same soup every day, yet that sameness only made it more precious to her.

But there was no such warmth in this mansion. It was perhaps foolish to even hope for it — this house was so vast that a single corridor was wider than her family’s entire home.

Leni’s gaze wandered.

Paintings adorned the walls: portraits, landscapes and still lifes. There was no order, no theme. They were scattered haphazardly, and yet her lips parted in awe.

Paintings. In Tilea Hill, not even the wealthiest households possessed more than one. And here, there were so many that she could not begin to count them. For the first time, she truly realized that the Hildebalts were a noble family.

“…Now, what was your name again?”

The heavy voice shattered her thoughts. She nearly stumbled, but steadied her steps.

“Leni. My name is Leni.”

“Leni… Leni, is it?”

The man frowned, tapping his armrest with his fingers.

“Too common. That will have to be changed.”

“I like my name. It’s what I’m used to. If you suddenly change it, I won’t be able to adapt.”

She protested quickly, unwilling to surrender the name her parents had given her after such careful thought. To her, it was precious.

“No matter. The name must be changed. Tell me—when you introduce yourself as ‘Leni,’ who will believe you are a noble? Would you have people attach the label of a pauper’s daughter to your name wherever you go?”

‘It wouldn’t matter to me…’

The words burned in her throat, but she swallowed them. Her parents were still imprisoned. Kidnapping was a far more serious crime than theft and was punished with years of confinement. If they were sentenced, her parents would never survive prison life.

It was the most terrifying thought she could imagine.

“Then at least let me choose something similar. If it’s too different, I won’t be able to adapt.”

“Hm.”

Though displeased, the man said nothing more. Her argument—that changing the name she had used all her life would only bring confusion—was persuasive enough for now.

“Then… would you remember the name Ilenia?”

“I… I think that would not confuse me too much.”

‘Ilenia.’

It wasn’t so bad. At least her parents’ name for her remained in the middle.

Still, she could almost picture Bena laughing at how absurdly long it sounded—teasing her mercilessly. The thought made her chest ache with longing.

“It’s late. You should rest now. From tomorrow onward, you will have much to do.”

“But my parents…”

Before she could finish speaking, the man closed the door. The woman, who had been silent since the carriage ride, had also disappeared without saying anything.

“This way to your room.”

A maid, her manner curt, led Leni down the corridor.

Her room was at the far end of a branching hallway, up a flight of stairs. When she turned the doorknob, she found herself in a room bathed in a bluish shadow.

“From today, this will be your room.”

The words drew a gasp from her lips, but the maid’s suspicious glance quickly made her swallow it.

The mansion itself was too vast to grasp. And now, even the room given to her was beyond anything she had ever imagined.

Her eyes shone with wonder, even if she managed to stifle her voice. Never before had she seen a room where bed and desk stood apart, not pressed together for lack of space.

“Am I allowed to use everything here?”

“How should I know? You’ll have to ask the master.”

The maid’s curt reply made Leni lower her eyes. How could she hope to win a battle of wills against someone so assured in this house, when she herself felt like nothing more than an intruder?

When she offered no response, the maid simply remarked that she should ring the bell if she needed anything—then turned and left.

Only after even that insolent servant had gone did Leni’s composure finally give way.

The bed, softer than anything she had ever imagined, seemed to cradle her as she sank into it. She pressed her cheek to the silk covers again and again, astonished by their smoothness, as though she could hardly believe such luxury was real.

“…It’s nice.”

The carriage. The grand mansion. A room of her own, servants at her call. It was indulgence unlike anything she had known.

And yet, the hollowness within refused to leave her.

“Leni. Ilenia…”

Her name—both of them—echoed in the silence.

Whispering the strange new one under her breath, she pressed her face into the blankets. Though the air outside was damp, they smelled of sunlight, like sheets freshly dried in the summer heat.

On the hottest days, her mother would gather all the blankets from around the house and hang them on the washing line. The sweaty, dusty quilts would soon become soft and crisp again, as if they had just been washed.

Even when her mother scolded her not to, she would bury her nose deep in them, stubbornly refusing to move. Surrounded by the thick folds of fabric, she would breathe in that very scent—the same one now filling her nose once more.

Those few stolen minutes—before her mother came, seizing her by the neck and scolding—had been precious beyond measure.

“Mama…”

Clutching the memory of scoldings she would never hear again, Ilenia burrowed deeper under the covers.

The silence pressed down like a weight.

Everything in the room felt too large. The chamber itself, the bed, the desk—everything loomed, excessive and overwhelming.

“Mama. Papa…”

At last, the tears came. All the repressed emotions spilled out, unstoppable. She longed for them with a desperation that tore through her chest.

She didn’t think about the ticket to Okinawa that she had left behind at home. She did not care. All she wanted was to return to her ordinary routine, even if it felt like a cage, as long as she could throw herself into her parents’ arms once more.

‘How cold must it be for them now? How hard and cruel it must be!’

She thought of their gaunt faces, which she had last seen when they were even thinner. She forced herself to close her eyes and cling to sleep. She resolved to wake early the next day and plead with her so-called true parents again.

······ ✦ ✧ ✦ ······

However, the clocks in this mansion did not move just because she wanted them to.

After ringing the bell almost ten times without success, Ilenia gave up. She wandered the halls, opening doors one by one in search of a bath. Having nothing else to wear but yesterday’s clothes, she smoothed out the wrinkles from the night before.

Only then did the maid she had seen the previous evening appear, carrying a tray of food.

“Already awake? My, aren’t you quick.”

The maid sneered, setting the tray down on the nearby table before turning briskly to leave.

“Wait, I have something I need to tell the lady of the house.”

“So?”

“I want to tell her directly. Could you… tell me where her room is?”

Even when Ilenia tried to be polite, assuring the maid she would not disturb anyone, the woman’s sour demeanor did not change.

“The master and mistress are doing their morning routines. If you go now, they won’t see you, so you might as well give up.”

“And meals? Don’t we eat together?”

“As if they would dine at such a small table. This food is prepared solely for you, my lady. Now eat.”

Ilenia looked down at the thin soup before her. She raised a spoonful to her lips. The flavor was rich, savory, the taste lingering in her mouth.

But it did not feel good. Not at all.

She continued eating mechanically, spoon after spoon, pushing bread and broth into her mouth. The food was warm, tender, better than anything she had known before—yet her heart remained hollow.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Baroness Crea, from today responsible for your education as the young lady of Hildebalt.”

As soon as she had finished her meal and been dressed in new clothes, she saw it. The desk that had been empty the previous night was now piled high with books and papers. The Baroness stood over her, frowning, with a sharp gaze and a severe presence.

“I—I am…”

“Just as I was told. Your manners are appalling.”

The merciless judgment struck like a blow to Ilenia’s chest.

“Do not worry. If you do as you are told, by the time we are finished you will have shed those crude habits and learned to behave as a proper lady.”

“Where is the lady of the house? I wished to—”

“During your lessons, everything falls under my authority. You will not see her until your lessons are complete, so abandon the thought.”

Ilenia pressed her lips shut.

She longed to speak again about sparing her parents—every moment’s delay gnawed at her. Yet all she could manage was a stiff nod, her anxiety mounting with each passing tick of time.

The lessons were relentless. Nothing she had learned at school could compare. From the way she sat to the way she held a pen, every gesture was scrutinized and corrected. She felt like a newborn, stripped bare of everything she thought she knew.

“Wrong.”

Crack!

Each mistake was met with the rod slashing down. A misstep in her stance brought a blow to her thigh; if she straightened her spine the wrong way, another strike lashed across her back.

Worst of all were the blows to her hands. Each time the rod grazed her knuckles, Ilenia bit down hard, forcing back the cry that threatened to break free.

“How many times must I tell you before it sinks in? Forget those appallingly crude manners at once!”

The barbed rebuke tore at her like a fresh wound.

“Really—Lady Hildebalt did express concern, but I never imagined it would be this bad. I daresay it would be easier to teach a newborn foal.”

Baroness Crea pinched the bridge of her nose with an impatient finger.

“I’ll give you thirty minutes. If you still can’t memorize it, prepare yourself for the cane.”

Without thinking, Ilenia snatched up the pen. There was no time to waste. She forced the unfamiliar letters into her mind as though cramming them down her throat.

Hours passed before Baroness Crea finally dismissed her. She was drained, both body and soul, yet a glimmer of hope stirred within her when she heard that they would dine together as a family that evening.

At last, she would have the chance to beg for her parents’ release. At last, she would see them again — Mother and Father. A faint smile touched her lips. If only she could hear a single promise, all the day’s suffering would be forgotten.

But that fragile hope shattered in an instant.

“What do you mean…?”

Her legs trembled, barely carrying her as she rose. She forced herself to eat only a little so as not to sour the mood.

“Your parents cannot be freed?”

She shook her head as if she could not believe it. Forcing her wavering gaze upward, she met the man’s emotionless stare.

“It is exactly as I said. Once a case leaves the Guard’s hands and goes to trial, there is nothing we can do.”