Chapter 4
Is the female lead buff already kicking in?
I decided to test it, shooting him a menacing glare. I had to see just how powerful this buff truly was.
Will you fall for me even if I do this? Huh? You will, won’t you?
But as he took in my glare, his eyes widened slightly before a small laugh escaped him.
He actually laughed—at an orphan who had dared to glare at a prince.
This buff is incredible.
In a society with a class system this rigid, shouldn’t I be losing my head for showing such disrespect to royalty?
At this rate, the male lead might just fall for me at first sight, declaring, “You’re the first girl I’ve ever found this interesting,” even if I did absolutely nothing. A variation on the classic trope of, “You’re the first girl to ever slap me.”
Will he fall for me even if I act like a total weirdo?
The curiosity was too much to resist.
Just then, he slipped away from the adults and their conversation, making his way toward me. He had come to apologize for laughing at me earlier.
“Ahem. Excuse me. I didn’t mean to laugh just now.”
Whatever, I thought. You let me off the hook for glaring at you, so we’re even.
“It’s quite all right, Your Highness.”
“You’re Fredia, aren’t you? I saw you in the newspaper. It said your dream is to become a painter?”
“I’m honored that you recognize me, Your Highness.”
Curiosity sparkled in Harace’s eyes as he studied me. If I let him, he would probably pepper me with questions, so I quickly hijacked the conversation.
“Your Highness, if I may be so bold, there’s something I’ve been dying to tell you.”
“And what is that?”
My heart hammered against my ribs, wondering how he would react to the nonsense I was about to spew.
“I looked in the mirror today, and my hair was glowing. Do you know why?”
A look of pure puzzlement crossed Harace’s face. I kept my expression neutral and spoke in a calm, even voice.
“It’s because I’m naturally highlighted.”
He looked at me, perplexed.
Harace’s expression turned utterly serious, as if he were trying to decipher some profound, hidden meaning in my words.
I bit down hard on my lip, fighting the urge to burst out laughing.
I have to hold it in! I could get my head chopped off for mocking royalty!
Then again, would they really execute a child for a bad pun? Probably not.
I’m only fourteen, and the First Prince is portrayed as a good kid in the novel. It’ll be fine. I’ve got nine lives, anyway.
After barely managing to suppress my laughter, I looked at him—still deep in thought—and loaded my second round of nonsense.
“Your Highness, have you had breakfast? I had bread and soup this morning…” I began with a haughty expression. He seemed to be searching for a connection between my two statements.
“It was delicious.”
Yeah, sorry. There is no connection.
He remained silent.
“It was truly delicious.”
His brow furrowed.
I chewed on my lip.
How strange must he think I am? God, this is fun.
I lowered my eyes to hide my amusement and tried to think of sad things.
My unpaid wages… the moldy wallpaper in my old room…
Then, a genuinely sad thought struck me.
If this backfires and Harace decides, ‘I have no interest in such a weird girl,’ I’ll be sent off as a maid to that pedophile, Mr. Hamel…
A shiver went down my spine.
Okay, no. Let’s not act like there’s no tomorrow.
I glanced at Harace, trying to read the room. His brow was still knitted in thought.
I guess the protagonist buff only worked for the glaring… What do I do? I took it too far.
I scrambled to change my approach, preparing a whole apology about how honored I was, how I’d only been joking to make him smile, and how sorry I was that it hadn’t landed properly.
But just as I was about to speak, he looked at my flustered state and broke into laughter once more.
“Haha! You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He laughed, his shoulders shaking. Seeing my stunned expression, he added, “Sorry. I tried not to, but you’re just too funny. I couldn’t help it.”
I was speechless.
Wow. This protagonist boost is no joke.
* * *
Winning the favor of someone destined to fall for me was a piece of cake.
Harace was delighted by everything I said, acting as if we were the only two people in the world—just as he had with the heroine in the original novel. She, an outcast in a strange new world, had fallen for his kindness instantly. But I was different.
“He was the truly weird one…”
I’d set out to be the strange girl, only to discover Harace was far stranger than I was.
In any case, his enthusiastic interest in me meant the adoption would likely proceed without a hitch. Just as the novel described, a photograph of Harace and me, smiling broadly together, was published in the Imperial Weekly.
Seeing it would surely prompt Duke Weiss, my future adoptive father, to come and find me.
* * *
A few days later, a carriage finally appeared at the orphanage entrance. The Director welcomed the man who stepped out, spoke with him in her office for a time, and then saw him off with a complex expression.
He’s here!
I knew instinctively it was someone sent by the Duke. They would be here to ask about me, to see if anything was known about my parents. After all, I could be a spare child, kept in reserve by some noble family.
Soon, the Director returned from seeing the carriage off and came up the stairs where I was sweeping, calling my name.
“Fredia! Where is Fredia?”
Her voice was uncharacteristically soft.
“Ma’am! I’m here!” I called back, deliberately making my voice sound utterly exhausted, though I wasn’t tired in the least.
The Director rushed over, snatched the broom from my hands, and gave me an affectionate smile. “You’ve worked so hard. It’s tough, isn’t it? Stop this now and go pack your things. We had no choice but to give you the attic since there were no spare beds, but Marian and Jane have offered to share a bed, so a spot has opened up for you.”
Poor Marian and Jane.
Knowing she was only doing this to look good for the Duke, I feigned ignorance. “But Ma’am, you always said the oldest, coldest room suited me best. How could I possibly take a room downstairs?”
“Oh my, when did I ever say such a thing? Someone might think you were serious.” The Director let out an awkward little laugh. I tilted my head, my face a mask of innocence.
“But the other children all heard you say it, Ma’am. You always spoke to me that way in front of everyone.”
Normally, she would have grabbed a cane and demanded to know how I dared talk back to her. Instead, she took a deep breath and forced a wide smile.
“Fredia, dear, just hurry up and go pack.”
Her hasty attempt to change the subject was so amusing that I pressed on, speaking in a lamenting tone. “All my things are just trash that the other children threw away. If I move them to a new room, it will only look dirty.”
My sullen act seemed to prick her conscience. “I-Is that so? I must not have been paying enough attention. I’m so sorry, Fredia. If there’s anything you need, just say the word. I’ll get it for you.”
“Really? In that case, I want a pretty new dress.”
“A… what?”
The Director was clearly flustered by my boldness, demanding a dress as if I’d been waiting for this very moment. I didn’t back down.
“A pretty dress! With lots of lace! And pretty buttons, too!”
A vein pulsed faintly on the Director’s forehead, but she maintained her smile through sheer force of will. As expected of someone who wrangled children for a living, she didn’t crumble easily.
“But you already have that dress that all the other children envy, don’t you?”
Ah, that outfit. The one I wore to smile sweetly and beg from nobles? The one she’d made me wear for five years, patching the cuffs and adding layers to the hem? The one I had to be careful not to even breathe in for fear of wearing it out, which I had to return to her the second the begging was done?
The absolute nerve.
I gave the Director a visible smirk before putting on a prim expression that said I hadn’t expected anything better. “Oh, I was just saying. It’s not like you’d ever be that nice to me anyway.”
“Fredia! What has gotten into you today? Stop this nonsense and get your things this instant!” the Director hissed through gritted teeth. Her face was a mask of restraint, screaming that she’d rather be beating me senseless with a cane.
Just before she exploded, I let my shoulders slump and pretended to sob.
“I hate you, Director! I’m the only one who doesn’t have a pretty new dress!”
With that, I ran up the stairs and disappeared into the attic, leaving the Director to think I’d finally lost my mind.
But my madness was only just beginning.
* * *
In the days leading up to the Duke’s arrival, the nicer the Director tried to be, the more arrogantly I found fault with every little thing.
“The room is too cold.”
“Now it’s too hot.”
“This blanket is damp.”
“The meat is overcooked. Could you have it cooked again to medium-rare?”
My constant, grating demands made her look as though she might snap at any moment, but she always managed to restrain herself. She had no choice. The moment the Duke declared his intention to adopt me, I was as good as a member of his family. I took every opportunity to be as annoying as humanly possible.
When a caregiver suddenly changes their behavior, it can be confusing for a child. This is a form of child abuse, you know. Abuse.
I was just a poor, confused child, suffering from the mental anguish of my usually violent guardian’s sudden shift to kindness. It wasn’t my fault that I was acting out!
Ah, this feels so good.
Considering all the times she’d taken her anger out on me, made me walk on eggshells for no reason, and humiliated me for sport, this was hardly satisfying revenge. But it was a start.
The Director soon realized I knew about the adoption and had grown bold because of it, but what could she do? It was the truth! Hahahaha!
In the end, I managed to get a brand-new dress out of her, complete with pretty buttons and cascades of lace.
And around that time, Duke Weiss finally came to the orphanage.