Chapter 7

Even when I lived as a commoner with my mother, I never thought I was unhappy. Our house was dirty, and we were always hungry, but that was just how things were.

Occasionally, when the old man from the shopping street gave us leftover fried chicken, it was a lucky day. My mother and I would split it and laugh as we enjoyed it.

So, on a certain day when I was 12, when a strange man suddenly appeared at our house and tried to force me into a carriage, I fought and screamed like crazy. But my mother didn't try to stop the man; she just cried.

"Isabel, please, please be happy."

I didn't understand what was happening and cried uncontrollably in the carriage, but then I suddenly realized something.

"Huh? It's warm? The seat is so soft?"

It was the middle of winter, and I always shivered even inside the house, but the carriage I was in for the first time was very warm. The seat was also incredibly soft, something I had never sat on before. This was all new to me, and my tears stopped as I became lost in the warmth and softness.

After that, I arrived at a magnificent mansion I had never seen before. I was allowed to take a bath in a huge tub, like something out of a dream, and I was dressed in a princess-like dress. I was introduced to a kind-looking uncle and aunt.

"Isabel, you are my daughter. From now on, you will be the young lady of the Mariana Baron's household."

For a moment, my mother's face flashed in my mind, but I quickly became engrossed in the first feast I had ever eaten. I thought about the princess-like life I would lead from now on and forgot about my mother. I didn't even notice that the aunt standing next to the uncle was glaring at me.

From then on, I enjoyed the life I had gained by calling the uncle "Father" and the aunt "Mother." When I asked Father for a pink dress I loved and was being measured for a new one, Mother entered the room and glared at me, saying,

"Sure, you're the daughter of a prostitute. You're really good at begging."

She had a terribly unpleasant look on her face. I immediately knew it was an insult. So, at dinner, I waited for the right moment and, with the cutest face I could make, asked Father,

"Father, what does 'prostitute' mean?"

"Wh-what!?"

Mother's face turned pale, and she dropped her fork. Seeing this, Father's face turned stern.

"Is Isabel the daughter of a prostitute? Was Mother a prostitute?"

I pressed on, looking sad and lowering my head. That was all it took to win. From then on, Father became even more indulgent with me, and Mother stopped being mean to me.

At that moment, I realized for the first time that my face could be a weapon and that men are weak for a girl's sad face.

Once I knew this, there was no going back. I didn't want to go back either.

I also learned that Father wasn't of particularly high rank among the nobility. Even though I feel like a princess now, if I marry someone of a higher rank, I could live in an even bigger mansion, have even more dresses and jewels, and eat even more delicious food. I could be even happier!

From now on, at the school I will attend, I will look for a wonderful prince.