Chapter 9

　　After breakfast, Ivan left the dining hall and headed straight for his study, a thoughtful expression on his face.

　　She is a cleverer child than I thought.

　　He found himself drawn to her bright blue eyes, which shone with intelligence. While her precocious maturity was intriguing, at the end of the day, a child was still a child. He couldn’t help but recall the way her eyes had been glued to the cake, the way she’d swallowed in anticipation. The sight of the shrewd, chattering girl crumbling so easily before a sweet treat had made him smile in spite of himself.

　　A precocious child wasn’t unfamiliar to Ivan. His only daughter, Isabella, was much the same. In fact, Isabella had never once shown him a childish side, not even when she was very young. She was exceptionally smart and, perhaps taking after him, was quiet by nature.

　　Katherine often said, “It’s because she takes after you,” a comment that always made Ivan wonder if he truly was as stiff as a wooden doll.

　　Isabella is fit to be the head of this family, he would remind himself. To become a leader, it is better to be upright and rational than emotional.

　　Regardless, Isabella was a daughter to be proud of. Though he had never said it aloud, Ivan was immensely proud of her. However, he worried when he saw Katherine coddling her, constantly reminding everyone she was her only daughter. Fearing Isabella would grow spoiled, he disciplined her with an even stricter hand.

　　Isabella was brilliant. She never fell behind, even in lessons that were advanced for her age. Every tutor assigned to her showered her with praise, calling her a prodigy. With each report, Ivan’s satisfaction grew, and so did his expectations.

　　A daughter perfectly suited to lead the family.

　　Isabella would inherit his title and command immense power. He had believed this without a shadow of a doubt.

　　Until the empress began her games.

　　A few years ago, Empress Iana had started summoning Isabella to the Imperial Palace with increasing frequency.

　　Under the pretext that Prince Harace needed a companion, Empress Iana had been summoning Isabella to the palace once or twice a week. Though it felt ominous, Ivan had allowed it, believing that a friendship with the Prince would be a wise investment. That, he now realized, was the root of the problem.

　　Around her fourteenth birthday, Isabella had suddenly declared her intention to become engaged to Harace after she turned sixteen. She wanted, she announced, to become the Empress.

　　“Preposterous.”

　　Ivan’s hand clenched into a fist.

　　The absurdity of it was galling. The child he had groomed to lead their family, the one he firmly believed would secure its future, now intended to renounce the Dukedom to chase a crown. Had she fallen in love with Harace?

　　Even so, she isn’t the type to be swayed by a mere fleeting infatuation.

　　His suspicion fell on Iana, who had smiled with satisfaction while suggesting how wonderful it would be to have Isabella as a daughter-in-law. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman was manipulating Isabella from the shadows.

　　What poison did she whisper in the girl’s ear?

　　Isabella was a brilliant child. Iana must be holding some kind of leverage over her; Ivan was certain of it.

　　Does she dare try to control Isabella? Has she forgotten who put her on that throne in the first place?

　　Ivan was the only person who knew of the greed lurking behind Iana’s benevolent mask. It was precisely why he had maneuvered her into the Imperial Palace. He had known she would use any means necessary to wrestle the title of Empress from the now-deposed former Empress and empower the Weiss family in the process.

　　But now that she was Empress, her avarice knew no bounds.

　　I will not allow Iana to reign over Isabella.

　　If Iana wanted to play games, he would find another girl to pair with Harace. He would use this new pawn to turn the tables and pressure the Empress in the future.

　　Fredia.

　　The child was perfect.

　　Iana was powerless against Harace, the son of the deposed empress. Even at his young age, the Prince already held the Emperor’s trust, placing him on equal footing with Iana. It was why she scrambled so desperately to keep him under her thumb, constantly gauging his moods—even abandoning her own biological child to do so.

　　If the Prince desires Fredia, even Iana will be helpless.

　　Ivan recalled the girl’s brilliant blue eyes, which held a captivating intensity. She was like an unpredictable ball, and he found himself intrigued to see where she would bounce next.

　　Fredia would undoubtedly capture Harace’s attention.

　　A smile touched Ivan’s lips as he pictured her munching on cake like a squirrel stuffing its cheeks with peanuts. Then, just as suddenly, he remembered her shabby attire.

　　“Derek, are you there?” he called out.

　　“Yes, sir.”

　　At his summons, Derek, the butler who always seemed to anticipate his master’s needs, entered the study.

　　“Tell Isabella to purchase whatever Fredia needs.”

　　“You mean Lady Isabella, sir?”

　　Ivan was well aware of the unspoken question hanging in the air: Not the Duchess? He thought of Katherine, who had opposed bringing Fredia into their home until the very end, and gave a bitter nod.

　　“A girl her age will know best what she needs.”

　　He couldn’t ask Katherine to handle it, not now. She was so furious she refused to even look at him.

　　A shadow fell over Ivan’s face.

* * *

　　The clothes in this world weren’t structurally so different from the doll outfits I used to make. Thanks to that, the dress I remodeled using the skills I’d honed from my old side hustle now looked far more glamorous. With a knack for design, I gathered pleats here and there, making the skirt fuller and the sleeves more sophisticated.

　　You never know when a skill will come in handy.

　　“Maybe I could work at a dress shop once I’m on my own,” I mused aloud.

　　A blush warmed my cheeks as I pictured my bright future.

　　“Since I’m in a new dress, I should go explore the house!”

　　My plan was to leave my room, learn the layout of this massive mansion, and get a feel for the atmosphere. I’d be living here for the next few years, after all. The faster I adapted, the more comfortable my stay would be.

　　As I left my room and wandered the hall, servants passed by, bowing awkwardly. One maid lowered her eyes and scurried past as if I were invisible, while another made a great show of wiping down a window frame, pretending not to see me.

　　It seemed everyone was at a loss as to how to treat me.

　　I suppose that makes sense. The Duke’s attitude toward me during dinner was neither cold nor warm.

　　Besides, everyone must know that the Duchess and her daughter dislike me. They were afraid of offending Katherine by being kind, but they couldn’t completely ignore me since the Duke himself had brought me here. The stilted half-formality Isabella’s maid had used this morning was likely the best I could hope for. It was proof that my position here was still ambiguous.

　　Not that it bothered me or made me feel intimidated.

　　I was a master of the solo lifestyle even before I wound up in this body! Hah! Being alone is great! It’s comfortable! I love being alone! My path is for me and me alone!

　　It would have been far more depressing if someone had tried to stop me from wandering around. With no one approaching me, I was free to enjoy the peace and quiet.

　　The mansion was like a palace. I’d never been to one, but I imagined European palaces like Versailles must look something like this. It had four floors, and the scale was immense. The ceilings were so high that four stories felt more like seven or eight, and the long hallway seemed to stretch the length of a soccer field. Large doors, probably for insulation or to block drafts, were set every few yards. I started counting them as I walked but gave up after the seventh.

　　I knew the fourth floor was for the servants, but the stairs leading up to it were nowhere to be found—they must have been hidden, like the staff break rooms in office buildings. The third floor was for the Duke’s family, so I felt self-conscious wandering anywhere but near my own room. I went straight down to the second floor.

　　The second floor consisted mostly of guest rooms. There were several large suites, each equipped with its own bathroom, dressing room, and antechamber, as well as many smaller rooms. I couldn’t explore it all; my legs were already aching just from touring my own house.

　　“My legs hurt just from looking around the house. This place is on a whole other level.”

　　Drifting from one area to another, I eventually found myself in a gallery corridor lined with portraits.

　　“Wow.”

　　As I examined the paintings one by one, I quickly realized who the subjects were. Seeing a portrait of Ivan, I figured the older people depicted must have been previous heads of the family and their relatives.

　　On one side of the gallery stood a bookshelf filled with photo albums. An open album lay on a nearby table, likely left out for guests to view. Leaning closer, I saw photos that appeared to have been taken recently. There was a picture of Ivan in uniform on horseback, probably from some official event, and another of him with a group of solemn-faced men.

　　There was also a happy family portrait of the three of them.

　　This must be Katherine. And that little girl must be Isabella.

　　A beautiful, red-haired woman had her hand on Ivan’s shoulder, her arrogant, queenly eyes staring straight ahead. My new mother was a goddess.

　　Wow. Mother, I pledge my allegiance.

　　Who cares if she’s a villainess? Who cares if she bullies me? Getting tormented by someone that gorgeous wouldn’t be so bad!

　　I was already losing my mind.

　　Huh?

　　Then, I noticed something strange in the photo.

　　I thought Isabella had red hair like Katherine’s…?

　　Just then…

　　“So this is where you were!” a sharp voice pierced the air behind me.

　　Startled, I spun around to see Isabella’s maid from this morning glaring at me, her expression terrifying.

　　“How dare you steal and wear my lady’s clothes!”