002. A Half-Madeleine

The carriage came to a stop before a beautiful, imposing mansion.

Olivia tilted her head back to take it in. The lavish façade alone made her shrink in on herself. A large carriage rolled up to the front entrance and halted. The door swung open, and a man stepped out.

He was striking enough to command attention at a glance—but what seized Olivia’s eyes was his hair, silver and cold as moonlight.

It was the same color as her own. She had never seen anyone else with hair like that. So the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“Are you my father?”

She didn’t need an answer. She knew. That man was the father her mother had spoken of. His gaze shifted toward her. Slow and deliberate.

The moment their eyes met, something inside her dropped inside her with a heavy thud.

That man—her father—

did not welcome her.

“……We’ll need to assign her an etiquette tutor first.”

His voice was cool, almost icy, as it reached her ears.

A brown-haired man quickly signaled to the people by the gate. The doors opened without a sound.

From the jewel-like chandeliers glittering overhead to the carpets lining the floors, the mansion seemed to glow. The air itself smelled warm and pleasant. Her father strode inside without hesitation. Olivia, unsure what else to do, hurried after him.

“Gio, you’re back—”

That was when it happened. The gentle voice cut off abruptly. A beautiful woman descending the staircase stared at Olivia with wide eyes.

Aside from her mother, Olivia had never seen anyone so beautiful.

“Gio. Th-that child—what on earth—”

“Hazel. I told you I would never send our Esella to the Imperial Palace. I needed someone to send in Esella’s place.”

Words she didn’t understand passed between them. The woman, looking deeply shaken, ran back up the stairs.

“Hazel!”

Her father followed after her. In an instant, Olivia was left alone.

She clenched her fists tightly.

People had gathered from somewhere, whispering among themselves.

“She does seem to have Madeleine blood. Just look at that lustrous silver hair.”

“What in the world is this? I never thought His Grace would do such a thing.”

“Green eyes? To think such lowly blood would mix into the noble House of Madeleine.”

She couldn’t understand every word, but she knew it wasn’t good.

Then—

Clap, clap.

Applause rang out as someone appeared.

“Back to your duties, all of you.”

At the old gentleman’s arrival, the onlookers quickly dispersed. He met Olivia’s eyes.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, young lady. I am Albert Langchaison, butler of Madeleine.”

His voice was gentle. His eyes were not.

“……I’m Olivia.”

“You must be tired. I shall have your room prepared first. Anna.”

At his call, an older woman stepped forward.

“Wash the young lady and show her to her room.”

That was the extent of the conversation. No one asked whether she had eaten lunch. Or dinner.

She missed her mother.

---

“Well, her eyes were sly from the start. Her mother must’ve been some street dancer. Completely different from Lady Esella.”

Anna spoke loftily to the servants gathered around her. One of them noticed the thread anklet lying beside Anna.

“What’s that? It’s pretty.”

“You want it? It’s from Turningbell.”

“Does it belong to that girl? Ugh. Gross.”

One of the laughing servants tossed the thread anklet into the trash.

And then they added to Anna’s story.

No wonder she wailed like that yesterday. Rotten to the core. Low blood will always be low.

In no time, stories about the new young lady of the ducal house—and her mother—spread through the estate.

After hearing the report, the Duke of Madeleine gave his order as if sorting through household goods.

“Assign her a tight-lipped nanny. I don’t want idle chatter.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The butler bowed his head.

A discreet nanny. And the cheapest one available.

The fact that she had been dismissed from her previous household for tormenting the young master in her care was of no concern to the butler.

---

The hand brushing through her hair was gentle.

Olivia blinked her uneasy eyes.

The room, decorated in pink and sky blue, was lovely. No mice climbed onto the bed.

But Olivia was not happy.

Her thread anklet had been taken. She had nothing here that belonged to her. She wasn’t allowed to leave the room. The only person she saw was the nanny who had arrived a few days ago.

Carefully, Olivia spoke.

“Um… Nanny. I want to go outside today.”

The nanny smiled kindly.

“No, young lady. You know why.”

“……Why?”

“If His Grace sees you, it pains him.”

Olivia hunched her thin shoulders.

The nanny’s voice grew even sweeter.

“You know the Duchess has taken to her bed, don’t you?”

Olivia’s eyes widened. The Duchess—did she mean the beautiful woman who had run upstairs that day?

“I didn’t… know.”

“Of course you didn’t. Or rather, even if you did, you must say you didn’t. Because thanks to you, this noble House of Madeleine has become a laughingstock.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know that either?”

The nanny covered her mouth and looked at Olivia with feigned pity. The hand brushing her hair grew rougher and rougher.

“Ah—ah.”

Olivia let out a small whimper, but the nanny only murmured, “Poor thing.”

“Oh dear. It seems no one has told our young lady the truth. Then this nanny must.”

She smiled faintly.

“It’s all because you entered this house.”

“……”

“The Duke and Duchess, who never once quarreled before.”

“……”

“The eldest young master, walking on eggshells.”

“……”

“The second young master, who’s begun crying every night.”

“……”

“And poor Lady Esella, who went from being the one and only precious daughter to merely the second.”

Olivia’s heart pounded.

No. The weak denial slipped past her lips, but the nanny drove the words in like nails.

“It’s all because of you.”

“No.”

“Young lady. I told you on the first day, didn’t I? This nanny never lies.”

Her words slithered into Olivia’s heart like a snake.

On the first day, the nanny had said it with that warm face of hers—she would never lie to her.

That day, she had bathed Olivia in warm water. She had given her white bread, soup, and even fruit she had never seen before. She had read her a storybook before bed.

Could it be true?

Olivia felt herself shrinking smaller and smaller.

Is it all… because of me?

Confusion flooded her young face. Seeing it, the nanny coaxed sweetly,

“That silver hair doesn’t suit you at all.”

“My… hair?”

“Silver hair is the symbol of the House of Madeleine. It’s not meant for the likes of you. It’s because of that silver hair that you entered this house, isn’t it?”

She didn’t fully understand what the nanny was saying.

“I came here… because I’m Father’s daughter.”

“No. It’s all thanks to that silver hair. If you didn’t have it, do you think you would have dared set foot here?”

The nanny’s eyes flashed.

Suddenly, she grabbed Olivia’s arm painfully tight.

“Ah—!”

Olivia cried out, but the nanny didn’t loosen her grip.

“Shall we cut it today?”

“N-No.”

Olivia struggled to pull free.

It was the hair her mother had always brushed so beautifully. She had already lost her thread anklet. She didn’t want to lose any more traces of her mother.

The nanny let out a low sigh.

“You really are selfish, young lady. Do you want the Duke and Duchess to keep suffering every time they see that silver hair?”

Olivia swallowed her sobs, choking on them—until at last she burst into tears.

No one came to comfort her.

The nanny continued to coax.

In the end, Olivia’s hair was cut.

When she saw her reflection—patchy and uneven, as if gnawed by rats—she cried again. The nanny only laughed, saying it suited her best that way.

After that, the nanny stopped bringing proper meals. Once a day. A piece of coarse barley bread and a cup of water.

The days dragged on like that.

Dust swirled in the uncleaned room. No one paid Olivia any mind.

She was always hungry.

Always thirsty.

One night, when the nanny did not return, Olivia quietly slipped out of her room.

She was hungry. If she could find the kitchen, there had to be something to eat. She didn’t know where the kitchen was—but it had to be better than staying inside.

The moment she stepped into the corridor, she regretted it.

The wide, silent hallway was dark and frightening. Feeling along the wall, she walked—then tripped and fell.

Normally, she would have brushed off her knees and gotten up.

But not now.

Lying there on the plush satin carpet, she felt as if her mother might come if she just waited. She wanted to see her mother and burst into tears—waaah—

“Who’s there?”

At the beautiful voice, Olivia slowly lifted her head. Light flickered. Someone approached her.

Blinking against the brightness, Olivia looked up at the woman’s face—and startled.

“You….”

It was the Duchess.

With her rich brown hair and brown eyes, she was just as beautiful as Olivia remembered—though her cheeks seemed thinner now, almost as if she were ill.

The nanny’s words echoed in her mind.

“You know the Duchess has taken to her bed, don’t you?”

“You fell.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

They spoke at almost the same time.

While Olivia trembled, barely hearing what had been said, the Duchess tilted her head slightly.

“What did you say?”

“I’m sorry.”

Olivia’s apology was barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“For… for you being sick. It’s because of me. I’m sorry.”

“……Who told you that?”

“……The nanny.”

The Duchess let out a quiet sigh.

The sound frightened Olivia more than anything, and she bit her lip hard.

Then—

Warmth touched the top of her head.

“Why is a child wandering alone in the middle of the night?”

It was strange.

She had been told the Duchess hated her. That she was bedridden because of her.

And yet—

The voice asking her that question was warm.

Slowly, Olivia lifted her head. A ticklish flicker of hope rose in her chest.

Their eyes met.

And before she knew it, she said—

“I’m… hungry.”

As if on cue, her stomach growled loudly in the silent corridor.

At the hollow sound, the Duchess stroked her hair once more.

“I see. We should get you something to eat first. Can you stand?”

Olivia nodded.

As she rose, the Duchess straightened—and held out her hand.

Olivia stared at the offered hand, then at the Duchess’s face.

The Duchess took Olivia’s small hand.

Her touch was so soft. So warm.

It felt as though Olivia’s own hand didn’t deserve to touch it.

She hurried to pull away, but the Duchess held on more firmly.

“The stairs are darker. If you fall, you’ll get hurt.”

Her voice was warm.

Head bowed, Olivia followed her down the corridor.

Just moments ago, she had regretted leaving her room.

Now—

she was glad she had.

---

Soft white bread, a bowl of soup brimming with meat, a fresh salad, even a glass of yellow fruit juice—delicious food filled the table. And yet Olivia couldn’t quite bring herself to pick up her fork.

“Go on, eat. You look hungry.”

The lady seated across from her spoke gently. Even after hearing that, Olivia only lifted her head a little, glancing up to gauge her expression.

“Don’t you like bread?”

“I do. A lot.”

“Then eat. If you stay hungry all the time, you won’t grow.”

“Baby, eat more. If baby stays hungry, baby won’t grow big, hmm?”

Strangely, layered over the lady’s voice, she could almost hear her mother’s teasing tone. So Olivia reached out without thinking and grabbed the bread. She had never tasted bread this sweet, this delicious before.

Her gaze was fixed entirely on the food. Because of that, she never noticed the lady’s eyes drifting to her painfully thin arms, or to her hair—cropped unevenly, as if gnawed through by rats.

After finishing her meal, Olivia sipped her orange juice and let her eyes wander.

“What happened to your hair?”

The lady spoke first. Olivia hesitated for a moment before answering.

“……It was cut.”

“Who cut it like that? It was neat when I saw you a few days ago.”

“……The nanny.”

“Your nanny?”

“Yes.”

One of the lady’s brows arched. Olivia fidgeted with her fingers. Somehow, it felt like the lady was angry. It was all because of her.

“……I’m sorry.”

Her voice barely made it out. She could feel the steady gaze on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up.

“My nanny said it needed to be cut more. I said I didn’t want that, so she only cut a little.”

Maybe she should have just let her shave it all off when she was told to. Even so, she’d wanted to keep at least a little.

“……What did your nanny say when she told you to cut it?”

“……She said if my hair stayed like that, it would make both of you upset.”

“……And? Did she say anything else to you?”

“……She said you’re both struggling because of me. That the reason this place feels so dark and gloomy… is all because of me.”

A soft sigh escaped. It felt heavy, as though it settled onto her shoulders.

She wanted to see what expression the lady was wearing. At the same time, she didn’t. She wanted to run—not in this warm room, but back to her cold one. She wanted to curl up somewhere no one could see her and hide.

That was when it happened.

A gentle hand brushed her cheek. At the warmth of it, Olivia slowly lifted her head. The lady was looking at her.

“Let me make this clear.”

“…….”

“This is not your fault. Little one.”

“They said… it was.”

Olivia mumbled. It was strange. Her nanny had said it was all her fault. And yet the lady—the one who had collapsed because of her—was saying it wasn’t. Olivia clenched the hem of her dress.

“No.”

The lady’s voice was firm. The hand that tilted her chin upward was careful, almost tender. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t angry either.

Olivia’s lips parted. The face she had seen running up to the second floor that day had looked utterly shocked.

“Really… I didn’t do anything wrong?”

At that, the lady smiled as though she might cry. Olivia instinctively fell silent. Slowly, the lady stroked her cheek again as she answered.

“……Of course not. You did nothing wrong.”

The fault lies with him.

The words followed in a low murmur, but Olivia couldn’t grasp their meaning. All she knew was that she liked this long-forgotten warmth, and she liked this beautiful lady who told her it wasn’t her fault.

Perhaps because the tension had finally drained away, her eyelids began to droop. She tried to force them open, but they kept fluttering shut. She had a feeling she would have a good dream tonight. Faintly, she heard the lady’s voice.

“Bring that child’s nanny to me. Immediately.”