PMBA | Chapter 2

“Ahaha!”

Bell-like laughter echoed throughout the Imperial Palace. It was the sound of nobles attending the victory celebration for the Crown Prince, who had returned from a triumphant battle at the border.

“To think he achieved such a splendid victory.”

“I heard Duke Haswell assisted him.”

“Dominique Roman Haswell, the First Duke?”

“I heard he also came to the capital this time at His Majesty’s summons…”

All sorts of news spread vividly from mouth to mouth. And amidst these bright conversations, there was one particularly quiet spot.

A long shadow stretched across the marble floor of the brightly lit imperial hallway. The sound of water droplets falling from a nearby fountain echoed rhythmically, like the ticking of a clock.

Drip, drip.

Amidst the sound of dripping water, a woman stood poised at the end of the corridor leading to the Crown Prince’s Palace.

Her luxurious silver hair, like spun silver thread, was fastened with sparkling hairpins and cascaded down her back. The filtering sunlight gently illuminated her seemingly demure face, her exposed neckline, and the dress that enveloped her body.

The woman, who seemed like a great masterpiece in and of herself, stood there motionless like a model in a painting. So perfectly still that no one could find fault at her.

Drip…

Another droplet fell.

‘Two hours.’

Kyrie Ernberg measured time by the sound of the water droplets falling from the fountain. It had been two hours since she started standing like this in the bright hallway.

“She doesn’t seem tired.”

“She’s certainly stubborn…”

The whispers of nobles invited to the palace reached her ears from nearby.

“What do you expect from that mad dog?”

Kyrie’s lips curved slightly at their words. The faces of those who had been openly badmouthing her paled at her unusual reaction.

‘Clichéd.’

She dismissed their stale gossip, too accustomed to it to be hurt.

Just then, a man approached her, unable to bear the sight any longer. Displeasure was evident in every step he took.

“How long do you intend to tarnish our family’s honor with such stubbornness?”

“Mind your own business, Johansson.”

“Is that any way to speak to your older brother?”

Johansson, Kyrie’s second older brother, frowned. He was a man who shared nothing in common with her except their refined facial features.

‘Older brother? Don’t make me laugh.’

A familiar citrus scent emanated from him as he stood closer. It wasn’t his own scent, but one he’d picked up from someone else.

“Just how much more humiliation must our family endure because of you?”

“Humiliation? I’m merely standing here, Johansson.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Your mere existence…”

“Why don’t you go attend to Elise?”

Just as Johansson was about to repeat his tired lecture, Kyrie abruptly mentioned the source of the citrus scent.

“…Don’t you dare speak of her.”

“Oh. Did Veron beat you to it, perhaps?”

Johansson’s face stiffened slightly at her words. It seemed she had struck a nerve. Kyrie continued, her voice a melodious whisper,

“I see. Elise must have said that she couldn’t trust her second brother, so she’d go with her first brother instead, right?”

Kyrie glanced towards Veron, who was standing not far away. He was watching them, Johansson and her, with a dark expression. However, the person who should have been by his side was nowhere to be seen.

“Though, Veron isn’t with her either.”

“…”

“As expected, the beloved Lady Elise Ernberg is in high demand.”

“…Stop mentioning Elise, Kyrie.”

“Why? Have I done her any harm?”

“You…”

“Oh. Is it because of that?”

Kyrie lowered her voice, feigning sweetness.

“Because I poisoned her mother?”

“Kyrie!”

“Or was it because I put a dead rat in her bed?”

Johansson’s face turned deathly pale at her words blurted out with a sarcastic smile. He gritted his teeth and spat out,

“You’re truly insane.”

“That’s nothing new.”

Kyrie’s smile was more vibrant than the rose bushes blooming around the hallway.

“I was born flawed, wasn’t I? Don’t you remember?”

The third child among Duke Ernberg’s two sons and one daughter. The daughter, born taking her mother’s life, inherited her maternal grandfather’s silver hair.

Her maternal grandfather was the one who had vehemently opposed her parents’ marriage. He was also the person the Duke hated most.

His precious wife died giving birth to a daughter who resembled the man who had denied their love.

For Duke Ernberg, a man who feared nothing, this was an unbearable humiliation. For this reason, Kyrie became a neglected young lady, confined to a back room from the moment she was born.

‘Poor young lady.’

Even so, her nanny always protected and loved Kyrie.

However, they had to part ways soon.

‘Hello, Lady Kyrie.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m going to be your new mother.’

‘New mother? Mama?’

Five years after his wife’s death, Duke Ernberg brought home an actress who bore a striking resemblance to his deceased wife, causing a stir in high society.

Some whispered that it was a love transcending social status, while others whispered that the Duke was clearly obsessed with his dead wife. The fact that the actress had a daughter the same age as the Duke’s youngest further fueled the gossip.

Young Kyrie knew nothing of this. So, she spoke the absolute truth as she knew it.

‘My mama is my nanny. I don’t need another mother.’

‘…!’

She meant no harm. She truly believed that the only person who cared for her, like a mother, was her nanny. Everyone else had abandoned her, but her nanny had always been kind and loving.

She was Kyrie’s whole world.

Kyrie’s words were passed around by the servants, exaggerated and embellished into rumors that the legitimate daughter had lashed out at her innocent stepmother.

That night, the nanny was whipped and discarded like a piece of luggage. Kyrie, using all her strength, threw a tantrum that turned the ducal residence upside down.

‘Give me back my nanny!’

The Duke, without a word, threw her into the punishment chamber. The maids glanced at Kyrie, who continued to scream even in the chamber, with expressions of disgust.

‘The girl has no charm.’

‘She’s completely different from Lady Elise, who’s supposed to be arriving soon. It’s no wonder she’s disliked.’

 

‘It’s fine if I’m disliked.’

It’s okay to be disliked by you. As long as I can have the person who loves me back.

But the nanny never returned.

That’s when it all started.

‘Did you hear? Kyrie Ernberg put a dead rat in her new sister’s bed!’

‘She hacked up the Duke’s office with a hatchet!’

‘She even slapped the Count’s daughter who was visiting the ducal residence!’

Kyrie’s misdeeds were added to the list almost monthly. Rumors spread like wildfire. That Duke Ernberg’s youngest daughter was out of her mind.

And the culmination of these rumors erupted at the funeral of her stepmother, who died ten years after entering the ducal residence.

‘Mother…’

‘Don’t cry, Elise.’

The actress, who had become the new Duchess after Kyrie’s mother, had died of an illness. And, of course, Kyrie was implicated in the rumors surrounding her death.

‘There are rumors that Lady Kyrie was involved in the Duchess’s death.’

‘Is it true?’

“They said she steadily put poison in her stepmother’s tea…’

Even as people whispered openly, Kyrie sat steadfastly, not shedding a tear. She stared at the coffin where the dead actress lay with sharp eyes.

Then, when she suddenly stood up and ripped the pendant necklace from the corpse…

‘Someone stop her!’

‘Honestly, how could such a mad girl be born into such a prestigious family…’

‘She’s not even a girl, she’s a dog! A mad dog!’

Despite those trying to restrain her, Kyrie wouldn’t let go of the necklace in her hand.

Even when the Duke’s knights twisted her arms. Even when her fingers were bloodied and her nails torn as they pried it from her grasp.

The chaos finally ended only after her brothers, Veron and Johansson, rushed in and knocked her unconscious with a blow to the back of her neck.

Kyrie was confined, wearing the pendant necklace she had obtained amidst the shock and dismay.

Clink.

Kyrie’s thoughts ended with the sound of the pendant necklace still gleaming around her neck.

The necklace she had obtained back then now sparkled around her neck, reflecting the brilliant lights of the Imperial Palace.

Johansson’s expression crumpled at the sight of the gleaming pendant.

“How could someone like you be born into our family…”

“I wonder. Why didn’t you at least ask Father not to give birth to me?”

Johansson’s clenched fists turned white. Looking at his fists, Kyrie remembered Veron and Johansson beating her down.

‘You disgraceful thing!’

‘Just die!’

Her own blood relatives, looking down at her with disgusted expressions at her stepmother’s funeral.

And Elise, pretending to wipe away tears behind them, but secretly smiling down at her.

In truth, that pendant was given to her by her nanny, who said it was a keepsake from her mother.

It had disappeared with the nanny when she was driven out, only to reappear ten years later, hanging around her stepmother’s neck.

However, Kyrie did not say anything about it.

And the following year, after her debutante ball, she began pursuing the Crown Prince. She didn’t care that people called her a leech, on top of a mad dog.

Johansson, looking at her with utter revulsion, exclaimed,

“Do you think His Highness the Crown Prince will ever look at you, even if you chase after him like this?”

“Who knows?”

Just as Kyrie replied and looked towards the Crown Prince’s Palace…

“…?”

Something glimmered from behind the curtains of the reception room. Something that shone silver, like her own hair.