*˖:✧ ⑅•.⋅༻♔༺•⑅ ✧:˖*
My name is Dahlia.
I am the eldest daughter of the Duke of Stewart, one of the four great dukes that was said to have founded the kingdom of Woodria with the first king.
I was born with the same fiery red hair and jade-colored eyes as my mother. Her name was Florence. She came from a neighboring kingdom called Estoria. She was chronically ill and was told that it would be difficult for her to have children, yet she had miraculously conceived me.
After I was born, her body gradually weakened, and it became difficult for her to get up from her bed. Shortly after I turned five, my mother died of complications from a cold.
Morbidly fair skin, hollow eyes, and a body with only skin and bones – that was the last image of her that I remember.
It was my fault. I have exhausted all her strength.
As a child, those thoughts had formed inside my head.
The servant who came to this kingdom with my mother surely must have thought the same.
In fact, that servant didn’t treat me well. They weren’t violent with me but treated me as if I was air. There were several times when they forgot to bring me my meals.
As soon as my mother died, that servant immediately went back to Estoria. My father, Mauro, who had seen this, brought home a woman and a girl soon after.
The woman’s name was Andrea. She had dark hair and dark eyes. She was plump and curvy, and her mounds seemed to spill out of her plunging neckline dress.
I couldn’t help but notice the male servants who were ogling her.
The name of the girl Andrea brought with her was Betty. She had the same brown hair and blue eyes as my father. She looked cute as she smiled at me.
“Dahlia, this is Andrea, and this is our child, Betty.”
My father smiled as he happily introduced the two while Andrea, who looked at me with snake-like eyes as she gradually tightened her hold around him.
“Dahlia, she will be your mother from today onwards.”
My father used to come home every day to visit my mother, but he would always leave the mansion at night asserting work required his attention.
I heard Betty was already four years old. I was only a year older than her. In other words, he didn’t actually go to work. Instead, he went out of the house to meet another woman. The only reason he came home was to see if my mother, a princess from a neighboring kingdom, was still happy. He must have had no feelings for her.
My father waited. He waited for mother to die. He waited until my mother’s servant went back home.
Did my father kill my mother?
I could only stare at my father who smiled at me wistfully.
***
My life has been filled with too much noise ever since Andrea and Betty came.
“Uwaaaaa!”
Betty’s loud voice echoed throughout the mansion. A servant nearby heard it and looked apologetically at me, who was holding a precious music box.
This servant has been serving our ducal family even before I was born.
“What… What’s with all the fuss?”
“Betty, what’s wrong? Why are you crying so loudly?”
My father and Andrea rushed in immediately. One of the servants must have heard the commotion and went to call them. I wonder if I should be thankful for that action that seemed a bit far from a wise decision.
Oh, forgive the sarcasm in my heart. Well, there’s nothing inside it anyway.
“O-Onee-sama doesn’t, hic, doesn’t wanna lend me, hic, her music box. I-I want to have one too.”
Wait. ‘Lend’ and ‘want’ is supposed to have different meanings. If you say that you ‘want’ to have one too, doesn’t that mean that you want me to give it to you? You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Dahlia–”
“I refuse.”
Betty cried even louder when she heard me speak even before my father could even finish. She really is a fussy child.
“Dahlia, I know that it’s hard to suddenly acknowledge us as your family. You just lost your mother so you don’t have to push yourself to accept us until you’ve sorted out your feelings. But please don’t be mean to Betty. She’s going to be your sister.”
Andrea said this softly as if admonishing me gently. But her eyes could not hide the anger it contained. I’m sure father isn’t aware of it. Women are more sensitive to these things than men.
“You’re sisters. I want you two to get along.”
I felt a chill run down my spine as Andrea said this in a distorted, sultry way.
“I’m not trying to be mean.”
“Then, maybe you can give the music box to Betty.”
“…it belongs to my mother.”
“I am your mother,” Andrea answered impatiently.
“I only have one mother, and her name’s Florence.”
“Andrea, could you step out back with Betty, please? I’d like to talk to her alone.”
“…all right. Come on now, Betty. Let’s go to the room next door.”
Despite her dissatisfaction, Andrea obeyed my father’s words meekly.
*˖:✧ ⑅•.⋅༻♔༺•⑅ ✧:˖*