Chapter 03
The Changed Ebony
“How can I assist you today?”
The maids surrounded Ebony, helping her get dressed. Sensing the awkward atmosphere, they brightened their voices to lift the mood.
One maid brought over a rack of dresses, showing options picked to suit the usual style of a noble lady. Ebony stood up and examined them.
The dresses were plain, low in saturation, and minimally adorned.
Ebony hadn’t always preferred such attire. Like other young ladies, she had once favored bright, ornate dresses.
But then came her father’s orders to appear modest.
And later, Herman’s warnings to avoid drawing attention.
Finally, Irene’s advice was that flashy clothes didn’t suit her.
In the end, Ebony was left wearing only dark, somber dresses, as bleak as her name suggested.
“One life to live, and I’ve spent it dressing for others’ expectations. How unfair.”
She stopped in front of the last dress on the rack and turned to face the maids.
The maids, puzzled by her hesitation, waited.
“None of these will do. Bring me another selection.”
Pushing the rack aside, Ebony returned to her couch and began reading a newspaper, undisturbed by the silence around her.
“Um… What kind of dress would you prefer?”
one hesitant maid finally asked.
She was baffled because the dresses had been chosen to match Ebony’s usual wardrobe, and now they weren’t good enough.
Without a word, Ebony pointed to an illustration in the newspaper—a bright, extravagant dress, the complete opposite of what she usually wore.
“Well, we don’t have anything like that for you right now… Should I bring some of Lady Irene’s dresses?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Then…”
“I recall there’s a dress from the Empire of Evgenia. I’ll wear that one.”
“Y-you mean the red one?”
“Good, you remember it. Bring it here.”
Despite knowing what she meant, the maid hesitated.
“Go on.”
“Y-yes, my lady!”
Reluctantly, the maid returned with a vibrant, red dress.
“Are you going to wear this?”
The maids busied themselves with helping her change. One maid, close to Irene, cautiously spoke.
“Lady Irene might not like it…”
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“It’s just that… Lady Irene may feel upset…”
“And if we were to hide away a gift from the Empire of Evgenia, they’d feel insulted,
wouldn’t they?”
“Well, that’s true…”
Unable to argue further, the maid fell silent.
The red dress had been a gift from the Empire of Evgenia to celebrate Ebony’s birth.
But Irene, feeling bitter about not receiving similar recognition as a commoner, had been sullen.
“You don’t even wear dresses like this. Can’t you just get rid of it? Seeing it reminds me of my lowly origins, and it’s unbearable.”
To avoid hurting her sister, Ebony had stored the dress away.
“Then a few months later, Irene wore it herself,” Ebony thought.
It would eventually belong to Irene anyway, so why shouldn’t Ebony wear it first?
It was hers to begin with.
From now on, Ebony wouldn’t let anyone take what was hers—whether it was a dress or her place in the world.
By the time Ebony’s preparation was complete, breakfast had long since ended.
As she walked down the second-floor corridor, she came face-to-face with Herman.
Striding toward her with purpose, he shouted, “Hah! Just when you finally dressed to match your name, now you’re abandoning it altogether?”
It wasn’t a concern for his sick sister that brought him.
Herman’s face twisted into a sneer, his eyes full of mockery and disdain.
“Mother would weep tears of blood if she saw you. If you can’t live up to your name, at least make an effort to try.”
He emphasized the word “name,” fully aware of how much it would sting her.
As a brother, Herman was completely unfit.
“His insults were a constant,” Ebony thought.
Her father’s indifference had wounded her heart, but Herman’s cutting words festered her scars.
“Get rid of that ridiculous title,” she said coldly. “It’s revolting. Who said you’re my brother?”
“You’re the reason our mother died! So keep quiet and live like a mouse! If you have any decency, don’t expect love from this family!”
To Herman, she was nothing more than a toy to take his anger out on.
“Our mother must know how pathetic and weak her life-saving daughter turned out to be,” Herman sneered.
Ebony glared icily at him.
“How tragic for her, indeed, to have such a hypocritical and ignorant son. She must be shedding tears of blood.”
“What did you just say?”
“No matter how much you blame me, it doesn’t change that the true disgrace in this family is you, Herman.”
Herman’s face flushed red with anger.
“You—what nonsense are you—”
“Mother exchanged her life for mine. Yet her precious daughter has been ostracized, not by strangers but by her own family. How cruel and filthy it is.”
If their mother was truly their priority, they wouldn’t treat her memory with such contempt. Their actions were rooted in selfish anger, using Ebony as their scapegoat.
“So don’t tarnish the name Mother gave me with your filthy mouth. It’s offensive.”
Herman’s face darkened with rage.
“You’ve lost your mind!” he shouted, raising his hand to strike her.
Smack.
Before he could, Ebony’s hand met his, stopping him mid-swing.
Herman froze, staring at his hand in disbelief.
Ebony, calm and unwavering, spoke softly, “This is offensive, too.”
Herman couldn’t understand. The timid sister who had never fought back was now standing up to him.
“I have things to do. Goodbye.”
Leaving the stunned Herman behind, Ebony walked away with measured steps.
‘It’s okay. I did well.’
For the first time in her life, Ebony had stood up to her family.
Especially to Herman, who had always intimidated her.
Her body trembled with nerves, and she gripped the banister tightly as she descended the stairs, afraid her legs might give out.
Then, someone began climbing the stairs from the opposite direction.
The hurried yet graceful footsteps were unmistakable.
As the figure approached, Ebony’s heart pounded uncontrollably.
“Ebony! Are you feeling better?”
Shiny black hair framed a delicate face, glowing under the chandelier’s light.
A sweet, melodic voice spoke her name as if it were a treasure.
“I missed you, little sister!”
It was Irene, her one and only sister.
“…Sister.”
As soon as Irene spotted her, she rushed forward and wrapped Ebony in a warm embrace.
Irene rubbed her face against Ebony’s stiff body, urging her to reciprocate.
But the touch of Irene’s chest against hers, the sound of her voice—it all felt like knives carving into her soul.
“I’m sorry, Ebony. I completely forgot about your shellfish allergy. You must’ve suffered so much. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
Part of Ebony wanted to shove Irene away, let her crumble onto the cold floor.
But she didn’t.
“No, Sister. It’s fine. It was my fault for not being careful.”
Ebony remained the obedient little sister Irene knew.
Because she wanted Irene to feel the same despair she once had.
She had no intention of teaching this hypocritical woman about betrayal or resentment.
She just wanted to watch Irene crumble in despair, betrayed by the sister she thought was weak.
“Are you sure you’re okay, my dear sister?”
“Of course. Don’t worry about me. If you feel bad, take me out sometime.”
“Anytime you want!”
For now, Ebony could endure the disgust.
