“Breaking off the engagement is absolutely unacceptable!”
Lady Lupina’s voice echoed through the mansion.
As I listened to her, I sighed, thinking, “Oh, not this again.”
On the day I fell ill, the Second Prince, Dangard, had visited the Ivor Count’s household.
For two years, he had been engaged to my stepsister, and I believe he had patiently endured her harsh nature. Though I never met him as a stepsister, I occasionally saw him as one of the servants.
While it would be hard to call them affectionate, I think he had sincerely devoted himself to Lady Lupina as her fiancé. Even so, he couldn’t shield her from the consequences of her recent mistake.
“Why must someone like me be sent to a convent!”
From my stepsister’s room came the sound of a shattered vase, along with her emotional cries.
(I just hope no one is hurt…)
The maids assigned to Lady Lupina are probably used to dealing with her, so they should be fine. Still, her intense anger is understandable, given her circumstances.
She had been stripped of her Saintess title, her engagement to the Second Prince had been broken off, and a royal decree ordered her to enter a convent in the royal capital.
For a noble lady, this was practically the end of her glorious future.
Under normal circumstances, it would be unthinkable for someone like Lady Lupina, who could wield high-level healing magic, to lose her Saintess title.
But Lady Lupina had taken too much advantage of her status as both the Saintess and the prince’s fiancée, acting recklessly.
She never openly confronted high-ranking nobles, but she frequently made indirect, cutting remarks. As for lower-ranking nobles, her behavior went without saying.
Even so, that alone might have been tolerable.
That’s why, for the past two years, she had remained both the Saintess and Prince Dangard’s fiancée.
(But to insult the daughter of a Margrave so viciously…)
It wasn’t as if bullying a lower-ranking lady was acceptable, but as the daughter of a Count, the Saintess, and the prince’s fiancée, Lady Lupina had left such ladies with no recourse but to suffer in silence.
The incident occurred at a party held in the royal castle last week.
Rarely, the daughter of Margrave Rolt had attended.
But Lady Lupina didn’t know the Margrave’s daughter.
Mimiera, the daughter of Margrave Rolt, was said to be a lovely young lady with unusually healthy-looking skin for a noble and freckles dotting her face.
Her voluminous, fluffy red hair remained full even when tied back with a barrette, and her dress, which strayed from the capital’s fashion, seemed rustic. Lady Lupina mistook her for a low-ranking country lady and immediately made a snide remark.
“Oh my, has a commoner slipped in? After all, no noble lady would dare wear such an outdated dress—it’s just too embarrassing. Don’t you all agree?”
Lady Lupina oppressed others as easily as breathing.
So, for her, this was just another ordinary day.
What made it different was that the person she had targeted wasn’t a lower-ranking lady or a commoner, but the daughter of Margrave Rolt, who defended the kingdom’s borders.
The party held last week was a celebration honoring Margrave Rolt for annihilating one of the Demon Forests.
This world is constantly threatened by monsters.
The Demon Forests scattered across the land, in particular, are nests of monsters. Even though it was a small one, successfully eliminating one of them was a cause for national celebration. Even I, who never attended parties, knew that.
And yet, Lady Lupina had publicly mocked the daughter of the guest of honor.
Margrave Rolt, furious that his beloved daughter had been hurt, immediately left the party with her.
Afterward, the Margrave lodged a fierce protest, questioning Lady Lupina’s qualifications as the Saintess and criticizing the idea of an arrogant, ill-mannered lady like her being associated with the royal family—the face of the nation—as the Second Prince’s fiancée.
It was only natural.
The appeal from Margrave Rolt, who could rightly be called a national hero, was promptly accepted, and Lady Lupina lost all her status.
“What did I even do?! I only stated the facts. That woman is entirely to blame!”
Lady Lupina’s screams echoed through the mansion.
“That woman” likely referred not to the Margrave’s daughter, but to the illegitimate librarian whom Lady Lupina detested. Anyone could see she had nothing to do with it.
But there was no one in the mansion who could tell Lady Lupina that.
Since the engagement was broken off and her Saintess title revoked, Count Ivor had been desperately bowing and scraping to high-ranking nobles as they began cutting ties with him one after another. The Countess, overwhelmed with worry, had taken to her bed.
Lady Lupina had been their proud, beloved daughter. They must have been unable to bear the thought of sending her to a convent, even if it was in the royal capital.
Perhaps Lady Lupina had exhausted herself from screaming, as the noise that had filled the mansion gradually faded away.
The sound of breaking objects stopped too, so maybe she had tired herself out and fallen asleep.
She was apparently required to enter the convent no later than a week from now.
If that was the case, then in just one more week, I wouldn’t have to see Lady Lupina anymore. No more being whipped, having meals withheld on her whims, or enduring her cutting remarks.
Would it make me a terrible stepsister if I admitted I felt relieved?
Even though I had been oppressed, as an illegitimate child, I had been provided with food, clothing, and shelter, and had even been taught basic manners.
—Was that why?
Perhaps it was because I was an ungrateful daughter, forgetting the debt I owed the Count’s household and feeling such relief. Maybe that’s why I was being punished.
One week later.
I ended up being sent to the convent in Lady Lupina’s place.