IDRH 03

chapter 3

Anatole said that since they had used a drug banned by imperial decree, everyone involved would be punished for treason.

Natalie’s eyes widened in shock.

Just a few hours ago, she had abruptly turned back right in front of the party she had been so excited about—simply because she suddenly didn’t want to go.

A surge of excitement ran through her.

‘That strange intuition was right again…!’

The one-of-a-kind limited-edition hat. The enormous fortune she had won at the racetrack. And now, avoiding a horrific treason charge at the party.

It really seemed like incredible luck had found its way to her.

‘Wait.’

Natalie recalled the dream she had just had—of the Ailsden mansion being engulfed in flames by a horde of monsters.

A chill ran down her spine, and an overwhelming urge to leave the mansion immediately surged within her.

‘I need to get out of here. Now.’

The same instinct that had brought her luck three times struck again.

Moistening her lips nervously, Natalie spoke in a hurry.

“Brother, we need to leave right away—!”

“So now you’re finally scared of the trouble you caused?”

But Anatole ran a hand through his sweat-drenched silver hair and replied coldly.

Frowning, Natalie shot back,

“What did I do?”

“You sent a reply saying you’d definitely attend the masquerade party. And to Rainfield, no less! After I warned you so many times!”

His red eyes—so like their father’s—glared at her fiercely.

It was true. Natalie had sent a reply to the invitation.

Rainfield was notorious—a depraved noble from the capital who had stood trial multiple times for illegal activities.

Natalie couldn’t possibly remember all the dozens of dangerous individuals Anatole had warned her about.

She didn’t care for complicated politics and spent most of her time visiting luxury boutiques or socializing with nobles her age.

After making a few mistakes and being harshly scolded by Anatole, she had clearly instructed the butler:

Return any invitations from dangerous individuals.

‘Then how did Rainfield’s invitation end up in my hands?’

In fact, there were two people named Rainfield in the capital.

The troublemaker Rainfield—and Viscount Rainfield, who simply shared the same name.

Natalie had seen the name “Rainfield” on the invitation, but since it had been placed so openly on her desk, she assumed it was the latter and sent her reply without much thought.

Glancing at the furious Anatole, Natalie bit her lip.

“It was a mistake. I didn’t know it was that Rainfield. I thought it was the viscount…”

“I’m sick of your excuses. Why do you always have to cause trouble?”

His red eyes burned like flames—just like in her dream. It seemed he thought she had acted recklessly on purpose.

“No! It’s not an excuse!”

Natalie shouted in frustration, but Anatole wouldn’t listen.

“Your reply was found in Rainfield’s study. Because of that, Father and I were immediately summoned to the imperial palace. You avoided being arrested at the scene, so you escaped a treason charge—for now—but no one knows how this will end.”

Spitting out the words, Anatole strode toward her and grabbed her hair roughly.

The black hair covering Natalie’s shoulders was yanked off.

Startled, she scrambled to grab it—but the wig came completely off, revealing her bright golden hair underneath.

Anatole snatched the wig from the bed and threw it toward the door.

“And this too—honestly! What are you trying to achieve by copying Sharon?! How long are you going to keep causing trouble?”

Tears welled up in Natalie’s pink eyes, but she glared back fiercely.

She didn’t want to show weakness to Anatole, who was once again scolding her without understanding anything.

“I told you—it was a mistake!”

“A mistake? More like you wanted to go, so you secretly took the invitation from the butler.”

“Brother!”

“Brother.”

At the same moment Natalie shouted, a soft voice interrupted.

The siblings turned toward the doorway.

There stood a girl about Natalie’s age, with long black hair and green eyes.

“Sharon?”

“B-Brother… I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

Tears pooled in Sharon’s eyes as she timidly approached the bed.

“The butler slipped on the stairs and got hurt, so I said I’d deliver the invitations to Natalie’s room instead. There was a separate stack on the console in the reception room, and I accidentally mixed them together…”

In other words, she had unknowingly delivered the invitation that was supposed to be returned to Rainfield.

Sharon burst into tears.

“Natalie, I’m sorry. You almost got into serious trouble because of me…!”

Natalie bit her lip tightly, looking at Sharon, then at Anatole.

As he gently patted Sharon’s shoulder, he said,

“…It was a mistake, so it’s fine. This wouldn’t have happened in the first place if the sender had been properly checked.”

“Brother!”

So when I said it was a mistake, he didn’t believe me—but when Sharon made a mistake, it was fine?

It felt unfair. It hurt. Natalie wanted to cry like Sharon, who was now sobbing in Anatole’s arms.

It was always like this.

Everyone in the Ailsden household—

They were kind and gentle to sweet, lovable Sharon, but cold toward proud and stubborn Natalie.

“Why is it okay for Sharon, but you get angry at me? Why won’t you believe me?!”

Clutching the blanket tightly, Natalie shouted.

But Anatole only snapped back coldly,

“With how recklessly you’ve behaved, what do you expect? That I’d still trust you?”

“….”

“I don’t expect anything from you anymore. Stay quietly in your room and reflect until this situation is resolved.”

With a cold glare, Anatole stroked Sharon’s head gently—

then kicked the black wig lying near the door and walked out without hesitation.

Bang—

Natalie tried to steady her ragged breathing.

Calm down. It’s always been like this. You knew that already.

“Natalie… here.”

Sharon, who had been watching her, picked up the wig and held it out.

Natalie looked at her with sharp eyes.

Sharon’s innocent green eyes were full of concern.

“Don’t hate your brother too much. He’s just worried about you.”

“…He’s my brother.”

“Huh?”

“He’s my brother. Not yours!”

“W-Why are you like this, Natalie…?”

“He’s my family. This is my home!”

At her sudden outburst, Sharon burst into tears again.

In the end, the butler and head maid hurried in and took Sharon away.

The servants’ cautious, disapproving gazes disappeared along with her.

Left alone in the large room, Natalie finally curled up and broke down.

Muffling her cries under the blanket so no one would hear—

“Sob… hic…”

Natalie loved her family. She wanted to be loved.

Having lost her mother at a young age, she had always been lonely.

But her cold father was always busy with affairs outside the home and never paid her much attention. Even though they lived in the same house, seeing him once a month was considered fortunate.

Her older brother, five years her senior, was also busy as the family’s heir.

Instead of showing interest in his younger sister, he often scolded her—and when angry, he would shout at her with his hot temper.

Yet her father and brother were always kind and gentle—to Sharon alone.

‘She’s not even real family…!’

Sharon was the daughter of her mother’s close friend—a dying wish her mother had entrusted to them.

Her father honored that request and brought the orphaned Sharon into their home.

Sharon, the same age as Natalie, shared everything equally with her.

There were now two daughters of the Duke of Ailsden.

When they were younger and didn’t understand much, they got along fine. But as they grew, the differences between them widened.

Natalie wanted her father’s and brother’s love and attention, so she always lingered around them.

“P-Play with me, Brother. Father, let’s go out together!”

“I’m fine, Brother. Father.”

But Sharon was mature beyond her years.

She always said she was fine, that nothing was difficult.

Unlike Natalie, who clung to their father and brother when they returned home, Sharon charmed them sweetly.

She even spent her allowance on gifts for the servants.

In the end, everyone in the Ailsden household came to like Sharon—the adopted daughter—more than Natalie, the true one.

Her father and brother were always critical or cold when it came to Natalie.

But they always smiled at Sharon and never scolded her.

As Natalie entered adolescence, she began to clearly notice the difference.

‘L-Love me too…’

With a child’s heart, she tried to become more mature—thinking that if she did, they would love her like they loved Sharon.

For years, through her early teens, Natalie tried.

She held back from buying things she wanted, studied hard, acted sweet toward her family, and treated the servants kindly.

“Goodness, my lady!”

But every time she tried, something would go wrong.

The blankets she had carefully folded to help the maids would somehow end up torn to shreds.

A ring she had decided not to buy would mysteriously end up stuck in her parasol, making it seem like she had stolen it.

Cruel coincidences.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Why can’t you be calm like Sharon? What is it you’re unhappy about?!”

“F-Father, Brother… please don’t scold Natalie. I should have taken better care of her…”

Her cold father and hot-tempered brother never once looked at her warmly.

Young Natalie often ended up hating Sharon more than the family members scolding her—and whenever she lashed out, she was punished even more.

In the end, as she grew into her late teens, hurt and disappointment made her sharper and more sensitive.