The fact that Kayla Regwerd — the current Grand Duchess and the Duke’s eldest daughter — was an illegitimate child had long ceased to be a secret in the empire. Many people knew about it. Even Irene, despite her young age, was aware.
And yet, despite this understanding, the girl’s small fists still clenched angrily.
"Do not talk nonsense!" she flared up. "Even... even if everything is as you say, Father still recognized Kayla and made her the heir to the family! My sister bears the name Regwerd, she is a Grand Duchess! So she is no commoner!"
"Yes, you are right," I nodded calmly, not trying to argue. "Her Grace indeed has noble blood flowing through her veins. But, on the other hand, she also has commoner blood, does she not?"
Kayla’s mother was a woman from a brothel — a person of the lowest position in society. So, no matter how you looked at it, Kayla was indeed half of common origin. However, I did not voice such painful details in front of a child. It was enough that her older sister herself served as living proof that the world was not divided simply into "pure" and "impure."
Since I was speaking about facts long known in society, Irene found it difficult to argue. She looked at me with such fury, as if ready to incinerate me with a single glance, but at the same time, she could not bring herself to refute the obvious.
"My lady, by these words I am not trying to insult your sister or diminish her dignity. On the contrary," I said softly. "I am merely trying to convey to you that the world is not black and white. You cannot judge people so superficially. And your sister is the best proof of that."
"..."
Irene silently pressed her lips together. A complex expression flickered across her face — a mixture of irritation, confusion, and some inner turmoil.
"And also," after a short pause I added, "have you ever seen Her Grace treat servants with disdain or allow herself to humiliate them?"
"...What?" Irene was taken aback for a moment, clearly not expecting such a question.
"Have you ever heard her shout at the staff, insult them, or even raise her hand against them?"
Irene seemed to seriously consider this. Her face noticeably lengthened, and her gaze faltered.
"It is because Her Grace treats all people with equal respect, is it not?" I continued. "Therefore, if you truly admire your sister so much, perhaps you should follow her example as well. And become a worthy representative of House Regwerd."
When I cautiously concluded my words, Irene looked at me with a heavy, gloomy gaze. Then she turned away sharply, hiding her face.
But it was truly the truth.
Kayla never allowed herself to insult, let alone physically abuse, the servants. Moreover, she always treated the staff far more respectfully than most nobles. And, of course, the reason for this was largely her past.
After all, Kayla Regwerd had once risen from the very bottom.
Before ever setting foot in this mansion, she was merely an abandoned child of a woman from the slums. Until the age of seven, Kayla survived on the streets, learning too early what cold, hunger, and humiliation were. And how could someone with such a past look down on ordinary people? She remembered all too well what it was like to be "nobody."
And, when you thought about it, this very attitude toward people was one of those traits for which I loved Kayla so much. And which I so wanted to instill in her younger sister as well...
Meanwhile, after my words, Irene fell silent for a long time. She just stood there, a complex, hard-to-read expression frozen on her face.
Well, I had not expected to make Irene apologize immediately. But if my words at least made her think about her own actions and her attitude toward others, that was good.
And, in any case, that was not everything I had come here for.
"Lady Irene, I would like to talk to you about something else."
By this time, Lemur had finally fallen asleep on my lap — curled into a small ball, his nose tucked into his tail, purring quietly and steadily. I carefully moved him aside, trying not to wake him. The cat merely twitched his ear in displeasure but did not open his eyes.
Irene, meanwhile, raised a cold, wary gaze to me.
"...Something else?"
"Yes," I nodded. "I wanted to talk to you about your studies at the academy."
"..."
Irene said nothing, merely pressing her lips together silently.
I sighed quietly and clasped my hands together on my knees, preparing in advance for a difficult conversation.
"Lady Irene, even if you find it unpleasant, you cannot simply stop attending the academy. Perhaps right now it seems unimportant to you, but in the future, this will inevitably affect your life. And I do not want you to one day make a mistake you will regret."
Of course, I myself did not want to send Irene to a place where she was unwelcome. But... there were things that could not be ignored.
My status did not allow me to directly interfere in her education, so all I could do was try to reach the girl with words.
During yesterday’s conversation with Mrs. Farris at the café, I learned that constant absences from classes could have far more serious consequences for Irene than it seemed at first glance. And it was not just about the possibility of expulsion from the academy.
Even if Irene wanted to transfer to another educational institution in the future, she would still have to provide documents on her academic performance and attendance.
Any respected academy in the empire closely examined the past reputation of its students. And if a student’s file indicated poor academic performance or systematic absences, they might very well be denied admission. Then even changing academies would prove useless — the doors of the best institutions would simply close to her.
Could such a thing be allowed?
Irene should not so easily destroy her own future because of cruel and spoiled children!
And yet I expected that as soon as I raised this topic, Irene would flare up again, as had already happened during her arguments with Mrs. Farris. Internally, I had already braced myself for another storm.
But what happened next truly caught me off guard.
There was no hysteria.
Instead...
"...I really do not want to go there," Irene suddenly said in a quiet, subdued voice.
She still avoided looking me in the eyes. Her gaze restlessly slid somewhere to the side — anywhere but at me.
"Why?" I asked calmly.
Irene frowned even more and lowered her head.
"The children... who study with me in the same class... and even students from other classes..." she began, and every word came to her with difficulty, as if she were literally forcing herself to say them aloud. "They all insult my sister."
She swallowed hard, and her voice trembled noticeably.
"They... call her all sorts of terrible words... traitor, murderer, enemy of the empire... and others, far worse... ones I do not even want to repeat. And I... I endured it for a long time. But I cannot... I cannot listen to this anymore!"
For a moment, my heart seemed to stop, and then it painfully skipped a beat.
"And the teachers too..." Irene continued in a trembling voice. "They do not react at all. Although they hear everything perfectly well, they pretend nothing is happening. It is because they hate my sister too!"
And for the first time in her usually prickly, irritation-filled voice, something painfully fragile suddenly sounded — almost a sob.
That alone was enough to make my heart clench painfully. A heavy lump rose to my throat.
"I... I tried to answer them," Irene continued, convulsively clutching the fabric of her dress. "But it is useless. They still keep going. They enjoy it. They enjoy hating my family! That is why... that is why I do not want to go there anymore! I do not want to keep listening to all these people hating my sister!"
After these words, spoken in a trembling, tear-choked voice, a heavy silence fell over the room — dull, ringing, saturated with the pain that this little girl had carried alone inside herself for so long.
It took me several long moments to compose myself, to process what I had heard, and to master my own emotions.
And only then was I finally able to speak, trying to keep my voice calm and firm:
"But, my lady, you must not give in so easily to such provocations. They are just children. Children repeating what they hear from their parents. They do not understand the full complexity of what happened. They are simply cruel and stupid. And..."
"No!" Irene suddenly cried out sharply, and her piercing voice struck me like a bolt from the blue.
"..."
"It is not only them who think that way! Everyone... everyone in this empire hates my sister! I know it! I am sure... that even the servants in this house whisper about her behind her back! All these people hate my sister!"
And at the end of her speech, Irene finally broke down.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, one after another. She angrily wiped them with her sleeve, but they kept flowing, as if behind this little girl’s shoulders had accumulated too much unshed pain.
It was almost unbearable for me to watch her bright amber eyes fill with tears.
And then, unable to bear it, I abruptly blurted out:
"That is not true!"
Irene, who had been convulsively wiping her eyes and quietly sobbing, looked at me in astonishment.
"...Wh-what?"
"You said that everyone in the empire hates Her Grace. But that is not true!"
The girl blinked in confusion, clearly not understanding where I was going.
And then I added with even more determination:
"Because... in this empire, I am the biggest fan of Her Grace!"