Episode 9
No matter how plausible the reason, being the first to be publicly rejected by a commoner was utterly ridiculous.
Thanks to this, the eldest son’s honor was on the verge of crumbling, and the Late Marquis’s family voiced fierce displeasure.
After reading the letter, Kalios’s face darkened instantly.
“Tsk. We can’t announce Kadin and Roshia’s engagement immediately, it seems.”
The Duke clicked his tongue in irritation.
He never imagined Eila would act this way.
Now that she’d lost the Blanche Ducal Family’s backing, he assumed she’d cling desperately to her fiancé out of desperation…
“What does she plan to do after graduating from the academy?”
For now, since she attended Riod Academy, the Late Marquis’s family wouldn’t openly harass her—aware of prying eyes.
But since she’d dragged Kadin’s honor through the mud, revenge was inevitable.
Even without that, the academy offered endless ways to torment her.
Jerat, cautiously reading his father’s mood, spoke up.
“Father, about that… Why not bring Eila back after graduation?”
“Bring her back?”
“Treating her as a noble lady would be difficult, but hiring her as your aide isn’t impossible.”
Of course, given Eila’s pride, she’d refuse outright now.
But time would force her to recognize her precarious position.
Jerat passionately argued, convinced this was for Eila’s safety.
“By then, Eila won’t threaten Roshia’s position. Roshia will have secured her standing.”
“…True. She aced the academy’s entrance exam days ago. That girl’s magical talent is undeniably worthy of the Blanche name. The more I see, the more I approve.”
“She’ll likely top every exam. That way, no one can doubt Roshia is the Blanche Family’s true daughter.”
“Anyone who dares question it will answer to me.”
Kalios puffed up with pride.
His fondness for his magically gifted new daughter was unmistakable.
“Hmm… You’re not wrong. Eila managed the family’s affairs well. Making her an aide isn’t a bad idea.”
Jerat exhaled in relief.
Kalios’s tone signaled agreement.
His father must have noticed already:
Life had grown inconvenient without Eila.
As he sipped his tea, Jerat’s brow furrowed.
He turned to a maid.
“Why does this tea taste off?”
“E-Excuse me?”
“It’s not the usual blend.”
The maid paled. Jerat clicked his tongue.
He couldn’t pinpoint the issue.
In the past, Eila would’ve fixed it immediately.
Kalios, too, felt the strain.
His gaze lingered on the drawing room cabinet—where his favorite sweets were once displayed.
Now, only bitter Western Ritt tea sat there, a drink nobles used to flaunt sophistication.
Kalios addressed another maid.
“Who ordered Ritt tea?”
“L-Lady Roshia instructed it, my lord.”
“Did Roshia prepare Jerat’s tea as well?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Kalios fell silent.
After Eila’s departure, he’d entrusted Roshia with household management.
Roshia had eagerly complied, but her efforts fell short.
‘It can’t be helped. She’ll improve.’
Yet, minor inconveniences piled up.
His satisfaction with life had dulled.
The truth was, Eila alone had known Kalios adored sweets—a fact she’d deduced after years of observation.
As a high noble, he’d hidden this quirk to avoid ridicule.
So Eila had discreetly served desserts without a word.
But Kalios brushed it aside.
‘Once we hire Eila post-graduation, it won’t matter. The sooner, the better.’
He assumed Eila would struggle at Riod Academy.
Its glamour was superficial—a harsh place for a talentless commoner.
‘With her engagement broken, she’ll have no options. She won’t refuse the family’s offer.’
What Kalios didn’t know:
Eila would never return to the Blanche Ducal Family.
A week was long enough.
Long enough for the academy to learn Eila was no longer Eila Blanche.
On opening day, she endured piercing stares.
Students expected her to crumble.
How could she not?
A lifelong noble, unmasked as a commoner overnight—what greater humiliation?
Yet Eila walked with her head high. Her face was thinner, but her pride remained unbroken.
Her aura still radiated nobility.
As she entered the lecture hall, magic students gaped in shock.
The first to speak was Freya, Eila’s longtime friend.
“Eila, you’re… holding up better than expected.”
Hearing the familiar voice, Eila turned.
Freya stared back, eyes cold.
Once, they’d been inseparable.
‘Our families were close. We grew up together.’
Eila had believed Freya her dearest friend.
But now, with memories of the original story, that trust shattered.
Because the moment Freya learned Eila was a commoner, she’d mocked her ruthlessly.
‘Why are you acting like this, Freya? We were friends.’
‘Friends? I tolerated you because you were the Blanche heiress.’
‘W-What?’
‘Admit it. You knew you were a commoner. You lied to us. How vile.’
In the original, Eila—stunned by Freya’s cruelty—stammered like a fool:
“I-I didn’t know! It wasn’t intentional!”
“Pathetic. Can’t even speak properly now?”
“…How dare you?!”
Her pride wounded, Eila lashed out, giving others an excuse to mock her.
Just like now.
“Why’s Freya being so cold to Eila?”
“Haven’t you heard? Eila’s a commoner now.”
“What? How?”
“A maid swapped her with the real Blanche heiress. Eila got kicked out.”
“God. How could that happen?”
