----
"Your grace, what is your plan now that the young lady is living here in the manor?"
Alfonso broke the silence, his eyes fixed on Lucas, who sat motionless, his gaze locked onto the portrait of the late Duchess.
The Duke was already tipsy, having downed five glasses of wine. Ever since the Duchess had passed away, drinking had become his habit, and ironically, the only time he spoke clearly was when he was intoxicated.
Lucas didn't respond immediately. He simply lifted his glass, swirling the remaining wine absentmindedly before letting out a slow, bitter chuckle.
"Young lady? Y-you mean that little girl from the old palace?"
Alfonso let out a deep sigh. The Duke had never once mentioned his daughter's name-nor had he ever referred to her as his child.
"Y-yes... she's an adorable young lady, just like the late Duch-"
Clink... Clank!
Alfonso's eyes widened in shock as the Duke suddenly hurled his wine bottle across the room. He barely managed to dodge in time.
"Shut your mouth and don't talk about my wife."
Lucas's voice was sharp, threatening. It was as if the alcohol had suddenly lost its hold on him.
Sensing the tension, Alfonso fell silent.
As the Duke's loyal subordinate, he knew him well-perhaps better than anyone else. He knew just how deeply the Duke had loved the late Duchess... and how much he had suffered after losing her.
He had also witnessed how the Duke had abandoned the young lady from the moment she was born-never once holding her, never even cradling her in his arms.
The Duke had deliberately isolated the child because her presence was a painful reminder of the wife he had lost.
The Duke continued drinking, tilting his head back as he downed an entire bottle of wine without pause. When he finally lowered the empty bottle, his gaze remained fixed on the large portrait of the late Duchess.
"That kid... I hate her... I hate her presence... Make her disappear..."
Alfonso watched the Duke carefully, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He had seen Lucas drunk countless times and had heard him mutter countless regrets-but this was different.
This time, he wasn't just rambling. He wasn't even talking to him-he was speaking to the portrait.
"S-she's your spitting image..." Lucas murmured, his voice breaking.
"But she's also the reason you're no longer here with us... Just... just make her disappear... I'm sorry, but I don't want to see her..."
Meanwhile, outside the Duke's room, the door was slightly ajar, and just beyond it, a silent figure stood hidden in the shadows.
Upon hearing the Duke's words, the figure smiled bitterly before quietly walking away.
-------
In the attic, Anastasia leaned against the window, her small fingers pressed against the glass as she gazed longingly at the vast garden below.
"Lucy, I want to go outside..." she said with a slight whine.
Lucy, standing nearby, shook her head firmly. "No, young lady. You can't just go outside whenever you want. What if something bad happens to you?"
Anastasia pouted. "But Lucy, why am I not allowed outside while she is?"
She lifted her hand and pointed toward the garden, her eyes locked onto Ingrid, who was freely strolling through the garden. Two of the Duke's maids trailed behind her, holding up a parasol to shield her from the sun, while beside her walked Dion, smiling as he genuinely enjoyed her company.
"You mean Lady Ingrid? She's a guest of Sir Winston, so she can freely wander around the garden."
Lucy reasoned, though in truth, she didn't want the young lady to feel jealous-especially since Ingrid was far closer to the young masters than she was.
Anastasia frowned, her small hands gripping the window frame as she stared at the vast garden.
"But why am I not allowed? I want to go there too."
She pointed toward the glasshouse, where Dion and Ingrid were headed. The two walked side by side, chatting happily.
The scene looked warm and inviting, yet Anastasia felt as though she were staring at something she could never be part of.
Lucy hesitated. "T-that place is dangerous for you, young lady. You can't go there... There are a lot of poisonous herbs planted around it, so it's not safe for you to wander there."
The excuse felt weak, even to her own ears. She bit her lip, guilt creeping in as she realized she had been lying to Anastasia far too much. The truth was, she didn't have the heart to tell her what the head maid had ordered-that she was forbidden from going to certain places, not because of danger, but because they simply didn't want her there.
If Lucy had a choice, she would rather take Anastasia back to the old castle than let her stay in a manor where she wasn't welcome.
Anastasia scowled, her sharp emerald eyes narrowing as she looked directly at Lucy, as if searching for the truth in her expression.
"Why are there so many things I can't do here? You said I can't wander around the manor or go to the floor where Dad and my brothers are. Then you said I should just eat alone because they always eat first. Tell me, Lucy... do they not want to eat with me? Do they not even want to see me?"
Lucy's breath hitched. She hadn't expected Anastasia to be so perceptive. Despite being young, she was already quick-witted, able to pick up on the smallest details and piece them together.
Lucy had known this moment would come eventually-but not this soon.
"Uhm... it's not like that... it's just that Winston is strict. As a young lady of this family, you are expected to learn and behave like a noble lady, so they are careful about your every move."
Lucy could barely stop herself from biting her tongue. The lies she was telling were piling up, and she hated every word that left her mouth. However, she felt relieved when Anastasia finally nodded slightly, as if she understood.
------++
"Dion, when am I going to meet Anastasia? I heard from the head maid that she's been in the capital for so long, yet I've never met her, not even once!" Ingrid said as she picked at her dessert, her voice laced with curiosity.
"You've already met her." Dion replied coldly.
Ingrid frowned. "What are you talking about? I don't remember meeting her even once!"
She noticed that Dion's mood had suddenly turned sour, making her pout slightly.
"I haven't met any young lady my age aside from that young maid you spoke to yesterday... And she can't possibly be Anastasia. She doesn't look like a noble lady at all." Ingrid remarked, taking a graceful sip of her tea while watching Dion's reaction carefully.
The truth was, Ingrid was only pretending not to know about Anastasia's situation, feigning ignorance to maintain the image of an innocent, well-mannered young lady. In reality, she was fully aware that Anastasia was the abandoned daughter of the Duke-a fact that was no longer a secret in high society.
She simply wanted to see how truthful the rumors were by observing Dion's reaction. And judging by the way his mood darkened, the rumors were more than just idle gossip.
A small, secretive smile curled at the corners of Ingrid's lips.
"That was her."
Feigning innocent surprise, Ingrid widened her eyes.
"She's Anastasia? The little pumpkin from yesterday?!"
"Yes."
Ingrid blinked, as if in disbelief.
"You mean that thin girl wearing that outdated dress? Is she really my cousin?"
"Yes."
Ingrid hesitated before speaking again. "Then why does she look so thin? And... she looks more like a young maid than a noble lady. I mean-sorry for my words-but she doesn't resemble a noble lady at all!"
Dion stared at Ingrid, unable to stop himself from comparing her to Anastasia. Unlike that little pumpkin in ragged clothes, Ingrid had been prim and proper since childhood. She had always been the center of attention among young noble ladies, being the daughter of a marquis.
If his uncle were still alive, Ingrid would have received even more support and would be even more highly regarded in high society.
How Dion wished she were his sister instead of Anastasia-the girl who, to him, had brought nothing but misfortune to their family.
But he kept those thoughts to himself.
"She's Anastasia. She's still young and hasn't learned basic etiquette yet-that's why she appears that way."
He didn't want Ingrid to get the impression that the young lady of Winston was an idiot.
"Then can I befriend her?" Ingrid asked innocently. "She's my age, and she's my cousin. Now that we're living in the same manor, I want to help her learn basic etiquette."
Her words sounded kind and considerate, but in truth, that was far from her real intention.
"No, don't bother," Dion replied coldly. "She's not worth your time. It's better if you just spend it with me rather than her. You're already like my little sister now that we're the only family you have left."
A secret smile crept onto Ingrid's lips as she subtly glanced toward the attic, fully aware that Anastasia was there.
"Thank you, Brother Dion. And thank you as well to Brother Lion and Uncle Duke! I'm really grateful that you treat me so well and make me feel like I'm part of this family!"
"You're already part of this family, so there's no need to thank us." Dion said with a slight smile.
Ingrid's smile grew even wider at his response.
Now, your place is mine.
Her gaze flickered once more toward the attic-where a pair of emerald-green eyes stared directly at her and Dion.