“From the City Guard?”

Count Kebeman looked somewhat surprised.

“I hadn’t heard that Lady Hildebalt was acquainted with the rabble rolling around on the floor of the guardhouse.”

“They—they are nothing like that!”

Ilenia protested quickly. Anxious that he might form the prejudice that she was helping criminals, her nervous heart made her shake her head.

“They are my…”

“My?”

“…They are people to whom I owe a great debt. A debt so great I can never repay it.”

She could not bring herself to confess that the prisoners of the Guard were her parents. This man might be her only lifeline, but he was undoubtedly a nobleman.

Ilenia swallowed the words that rose to her lips.

“They are the ones who helped me live when I did not even realize I was a Hildebalt.”

“Hmm.”

“I owe them a great debt, yet they have been unjustly imprisoned. That is why I have set aside my shame and come to ask for your help, Count Kebeman. Please—release those who have been wrongfully confined.”

“Strange. Why ask me, instead of speaking to Count Hildebalt?”

“… because my parents said it was not a request they could grant. I suppose they don’t want me getting involved with the City Guard any further — it’s all too easy to get mixed up with unsavory characters there.”

Count Kebeman stroked his beard. A troubled expression flickered briefly across his face.

“If even Hildebalt says no, then it may be difficult for me to help you.”

“Please, I beg you!”

Ilenia collapsed to her knees before him, driven by desperation.

Had Lady Crea—who once instructed her—witnessed such a sight, she would surely have fainted in outrage. Ilenia knew well that this was something no noblewoman should ever do. Yet to her, there was nothing left but her own body to offer.

“They have truly been wrongfully imprisoned. They are not the type of people to cling to Count Kebeman’s feet, even if you were to spare their lives.”

Her voice trembled with fervent pleading, but Count Kebeman’s gaze had already slipped downward. The low neckline of her dress revealed the soft swell of her br*asts.

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.

“If Lady Hildebalt speaks so earnestly, then perhaps I should consider it.”

“Truly?”

“But…”

His wrinkled hand caught her chin, forcing her face upward.

“If you will listen well to what I say.”

Flinching, Ilenia trembled as her eyes belatedly met his.

The face of Count Kebeman, stripped bare in its true intent, was grotesque—so much so it made her stomach turn. The very fact that such a hand dared touch her cheek sent bile rising in her throat.

She forced herself to hold back the twist of revulsion from showing on her face.

This was not a cramped little cottage where three people could barely move around. This was a vast drawing room. And yet her father had left his unmarried daughter alone here with a man who was not a relative. She didn’t need to ask what the purpose was.

Even if she screamed, who could say whether that tightly closed door would open? Perhaps not even a greater commotion would bring anyone to her aid.

“What exactly do you mean…?”

“You’re not a child, and with a bit of cunning, you must have guessed at least some of it.”

His oily smile continued to scrape against her insides. What if I simply vomit right here? If she were to spew all over those obviously expensive shoes, Count Kebeman might find it revolting enough.

‘…What nonsense.’

Ilenia forced herself to stop thinking about it, frowning slightly. From the outset, there had only been one reason for this whole chain of events. If she let this moment slip away, she might lose her chance forever.

That could not be allowed to happen.

“Our future relationship, of course.”

So she had to endure.

“At first, I wasn’t much interested in Count Hildebalt’s suggestion. But after seeing you, I changed my mind. That honey-colored hair, those full br*asts… I rather like them.”

‘Whatever foul words that lecherous old man spewed, she had to let them slip past one ear.’

“I’ve been quite lonely since losing my wife…”

But when he started to massage her shoulder suggestively, her long-held restraint snapped. Without thinking, she swung her arm out.

“Aagh!”

With a dull thud, Count Kebeman’s scream shook the drawing room as if it might split apart.

“What’s happening, my lord?!”

The drawing room door, which had remained impassable no matter how much she had trembled before, flew open at her frightened cry. Servants rushed inside, but halted in shock at the sight before them. Count Kebeman was doubled over, clutching his solar plexus, his face flushed with fury.

“Kh… huuhk… th-that wench…!”

Count Kebeman wheezed, his breaths harsh and ragged.

Who would have imagined such a small fist could strike with such force? Rage and bewilderment twisted together as he struggled to catch his breath.

It was a fist hardened by years of menial labor and relentless chores. Striking a belly padded thick with flesh had been no challenge at all.

Ilenia flexed her hand, just slightly. Though it sickened her to touch that slab of fat, a fierce exhilaration jolted up her spine.

She quickly pressed a hand to her lips, stifling the smile that threatened to break free.

“Count!”

Count Hildebalt, having heard the news belatedly, all but stormed into the drawing room. The instant his eyes fell on Count Kebeman—bent over, unable to straighten his back—he cried out in alarm.

Though Count Hildebalt coaxed and pleaded, soothing the enraged Kebeman was no easy task. At last, still half doubled over, Kebeman was ushered into a waiting carriage, which quickly departed the Hildebalt estate.

“You wretched girl!”

A stinging slap snapped Ilenia’s head hard to the left. A searing heat hit her cheek as she staggered back several steps before collapsing to the floor.

“My dear! What if she’s left scarred on her face?”

“D*mn it, that brat deserves it!”

The harsh voice of Count Hildebalt rang in her ears; the strike had rattled them, too.

“Do you even know what you’ve done?”

“…….”

“Count Kebeman is merciful, thank heaven! You nearly ruined not just your own chance, but our entire house!”

His blows did not stop there. The more Ilenia curled up, trying desperately to shield herself from the pain, the harder he hit her.

“Don’t hit her where the dress won’t cover. If you do, she won’t be able to attend the banquet next week.”

Rather than stopping him, the Countess only made matters worse. Throughout the storm of merciless violence, she never once tried to restrain her husband. From between her trembling arms, Ilenia could see nothing but eyes as cold as stone.

No one stepped in to stop the one-sided beating.

Why did you do it? If only you had endured a little longer.

That was the message in their eyes.

“I gave you time to speak at ease with Count Kebeman so it would not look suspicious, and this is how you use it?”

Count Hildebalt finally pulled his foot back, snarling. Thanks to the advice of the Countess, most of his blows had landed where her dress could hide them. Aside from looking as though she had fallen down a staircase in an attic, she appeared almost unharmed.

“If you ever dare spout such useless words again—”

“They were not useless words.”

Her eyes lifted defiantly and locked onto Count Hildebalt’s, glaring at him so fiercely that he felt consumed by it.

“You swore to release them, Count Hildebalt, but you failed to keep your word.”

“You wretched brat!”

At last, Count Hildebalt tore off his belt. The narrow strip of hardened leather, weighted with a metal tip, came down across her back.

“Still, you do not know your place!”

Unlike the random flurry of fists and kicks, the lash of the belt was an entirely different experience. The instant its tip grazed her back, a white light flashed in her vision.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. Making a sound would feel like surrendering.

By the time her mouth was split open and she could taste blood on her tongue, Count Hildebalt finally stopped.

“There will be no supper tonight! Since your wretched nature cannot be corrected in comfort, I’ll give you the education you deserve!”

He hurled the belt to the floor, the metal tip scraping harshly across the marble as it landed.

Through the crack of the door, Isidore’s cold eyes fixed on her with contempt—then the door slammed shut.

The faint glimmer of light she had almost reached for was gone. Nothing remained.

Ilenia shifted, pressing her burning cheek against the marble floor. The chill seeped into her skin, dulling the fire there.

Cold. At least it’s cold.

The haze of pain slowly lifted, leaving her mind sharpened with a cruel clarity.

“…I couldn’t endure.”

The words she had long swallowed slipped out at last. Even while being beaten by Count Hildebalt, that single thought consumed her.

‘Foolish Leni. You only had to endure a little longer…’

Her lips twisted harshly. The pain in her body was nothing compared to the agony tearing her heart apart.

She had never learned how to endure such moments. She had never been taught what to do each time helplessness crushed her.

‘What am I supposed to do? How can I possibly save Mama and Papa?’ If only I’d paid more attention in school… would it be different? If I had followed Papa and Mama’s words more diligently, would none of this have happened?’

Ilenia swallowed hard. Resentful tears streamed down her cheeks, yet the suffocating weight inside her refused to lift.

······ ✦ ✧ ✦ ······

From that day forward, Ilenia no longer resisted.

She endured the verbal lashings of Count and Countess Hildebalt, and even Lady Crea’s strikes, with an unshaken composure.

Only then did the Hildebalt couple rejoice, proclaiming that Ilenia was finally beginning to seem “like a person.” Soon after, she was summoned once more to dine with them—something that had not happened since her very first day.

Ilenia only smiled dutifully, as she had been taught. Like a trained animal, she wore the expressions they demanded, spoke the words they longed to hear.

Time moved relentlessly forward until, at last, the day of her first debut into society arrived.

“Why didn’t you run away?”

Ilenia turned her gaze to the seat opposite her in the carriage. Instead of the Hildebalt couple, Isidore was sitting there, staring at her strangely.

“Because I had nowhere to go.”

“Seems you’ve taken quite a liking to this damned house, then?”

“Perhaps so.”

With that reply, Ilenia turned her head away once more. There was no point in speaking further.

Before long, the carriage rolled to a stop. The door opened, and Isidore stepped out first, extending his hand toward her.

Taking his hand, she descended from the carriage—and before her eyes spread a dazzling mansion.

Compared to the Hildebalt estate, it was a vision of brilliance beyond measure. Her lips parted slightly as she stared, dazed.

“I’ll tell you now—don’t even think of relying on me in the ballroom.”

The cold tone of her relative’s voice cut straight through her.