Chapter 1

Isabella Helsington, the eldest daughter and illegitimate child of House Helsington, was a cursed doll. The count’s family had been cursed for generations. Inexplicably and without fail, the firstborn child of the family would die before reaching adulthood.

To avoid this curse, the Helsington family hired a woman of humble birth as a surrogate. The child born from this loveless union was Isabella. From the moment of her birth, she seemed destined to break the curse.

“A daughter? Is the curse broken?”

The firstborn child of House Helsington had always been a son, but for some reason, a daughter had been born. Had the curse been lifted? The Helsington family grew hopeful. And so, even though Isabella was illegitimate, she was able to grow up like any other child in a noble family. However, that circumstance was short-lived. When she was ten years old, Isabella began to fall ill.

“That damned curse! It didn’t go away after all!”

The Helsingtons chased Isabella into the attic as if she had contracted a contagious disease. Like a speck of dust, she lived in that attic for nine years. Now, she only has one year left to live.

“Isabella! How are you feeling today?” Ijar, her younger brother, asked with a smile on his face.

They were on their way to the dining room. Exactly one year younger than Isabella, Ijar Helsington had safely avoided the curse and grew up healthy. He had all the typical Helsington traits—beautiful golden hair, green eyes, and a sharp intellect. He was the only person in the family who greeted her with a smile. Isabella was fond of her brother.

“Oh, good morning.”

“How are you feeling today?” he asked again.

“I’m a little dizzy, but...”

“Ijar!”

Iona, the youngest child of House Helsington, came running down the stairs, interrupting their conversation.

Ijar scooped his younger sister into his arms.

Iona giggled as she threw her arms around her brother’s neck. While she was only ten years old, her kind smile and childish innocence practically made her the mascot of the family. Her long, wavy blonde hair reached her waist and she always had a bright smile on her face—not a single soul could hate Iona.

“Ijar! I read a storybook yesterday, and it was about a scary monster!”

They began to descend the stairs as Iona chattered on. Isabella stared blankly at her two siblings. Being left out was a common occurrence for her in this family. She realized that she never got to finish her conversation with Ijar, but she didn’t push it. It wasn’t important.

“Oh! Isabella.”

She had grasped the banister and was about to take a careful step when Ijar turned around. He was different. Unlike others, he never forgot about Isabella. Her chest tightened.

“What were you saying just now?”

“Oh, I...”

“Ijar, the monster was like...” Again, Iona interrupted her.

Ijar gave an apologetic smile and turned his attention toward Iona again. Her siblings leaned into each other as they walked away, as thick as thieves. Iona’s sweet, nightingale voice faded into the distance.

I should have answered his question, but... Her body was too weak to chase after her healthy siblings.

***

“Your soup, Lady Isabella.”

Joanne, Isabella’s personal maid, set a bowl down in front of her. Her soup was nothing more than a thin broth in a chipped bowl. Her portion was completely different from Iona and Ijar’s in every way.

Not even the servants of House Helsington would touch that soup, but Isabella picked up her spoon in silence. Even if she spoke up, it wouldn’t change anything. If she refused to eat at all, her family would loudly criticize her—it was better to eat it now and throw it up later.

“I hope you enjoy it, Isabella,” Countess Helsington said with a smile on her face.

Other than Ijar, everyone else in the family was like the countess. Whether out of guilt or concern for her image, she talked to Isabella, smiled at her, and provided her with basic necessities, but that was all. There was no love for Isabella behind the fake smiles and words.

The necessities she offered, like her room, food, and clothes, were cast-offs from the servants. To House Helsington, Isabella was just oil floating on top of water. She stood out, never mixed in well, and any attempt to remove her would be futile.

“Is the food not to your liking, Isabella?” Countess Helsington asked with a frown as Isabella set down her spoon. “You’re eating so little. You seem to have trouble digesting lately, so I asked the cook to make it more watery to help.”

“Not at all, Mother.”

The countess hated it when Isabella called her mother.

“Eat up, Isabella.” Sure enough, the countess’s smile turned to ice as she gave a cold command.

Isabella picked up her spoon again, even though the soup smelled putrid as if it was made from rotten beans.

In the past, she used to get mad and yell about the unfair treatment. Then one day, a nanny who had served the Helsington family for generations told her what happened to cursed dolls. She told her she should be thankful to even be allowed to live in this house. All the previous children had been thrown out into the field.

Once a second healthy child was born, the firstborn child was always abandoned. The children could be five or six years old, or even as young as newborns. She didn’t have to say what happened to those children after they were abandoned. They were either eaten by wild animals or captured by bandits to be sold as slaves.

When she thought of the other children who were used as sacrifices for the curse, she realized that her sorrow was a luxury. In particular, Isabella was lucky not to have been abandoned even though Ijar was born only a year after her birth.

It’s all thanks to Grandfather. Isabella smiled bitterly. She had almost suffered that fate, but her grandfather, who was Count Helsington at the time, had taken her in because she was the first daughter born to the family in hundreds of years.

He believed that the curse had been broken. He was so convinced to the point that he became bedridden from shock when Isabella fell ill. He passed away not long after, and Isabella was blamed for his death.

So, I’m content. Wanting more is a luxury. She consoled herself and embraced her reality. Sometimes, something in her chest pricked when she saw her parents look at Ijar and Iona with love, but the feeling was fleeting. She knew all too well her place in the world. She was just a cursed doll.

It doesn’t matter. I’m going to die anyway. She heard that there was no cure for this illness she had. She suffered from inexplicable fatigue and she coughed up blood. Not even the best medicine or temple visits could cure her.

“Try this, Isabella.”

At the sound of Iona’s cute voice, Isabella pushed away her thoughts and looked up. The little girl placed a piece of meat on Isabella’s plate with a big smile. She could tell from a glance that the steak was of the highest quality, but she could only bite her lower lip without picking up her fork.

Isabella couldn’t eat meat. Recently, she’d been losing the ability to digest food, and Iona knew that. Count Helsington insisted that the family have their meals together, no matter how sick Isabella was. Anyone who sat at the table long enough could tell what she could or could not eat. She hadn’t been able to eat meat for the past two months.

“Thanks.”

Despite that, Isabella didn’t turn down her sister’s false kindness. She accepted the meat and tried to hide it under her salad as best she could.

Countess Helsington’s sharp glare landed on her plate. “Isabella, it’s rude to reject someone’s kindness.”

She probably meant to say, Don’t dismiss Iona’s goodwill. Even if Iona meant no harm, it was still an act of violence because Isabella would fall sick if she ate the meat. The way they hid their violence under the guise of grace and culture made Isabella’s anger flare. But she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She didn’t want to waste her energy on them.

Anger was an emotion based on expectations. Aside from Ijar, Isabella didn’t have the slightest modicum of expectation from the people of House Helsington. She shouldn’t get mad, but...

She set down her fork, afraid that she would burst into tears if she sat there any longer. “Please excuse me.”

“It’s a bad habit to get up from the table while the rest of the family is still eating, Isabella,” Count Helsington said without lifting his head.

“I... I don’t feel well.”

The table fell silent. The clink and clatter of glass and silverware stopped in an instant.

“Do you have to say that at the table?” Countess Helsington rebuked her, clearly displeased.

“I’m sorry.”

The more she talked back, the longer she’d have to stay at the table. Isabella dropped her head.

“Really. It’s unbecoming of you to act like you’re the only sick person in the world.”

It was true that she wasn’t the only sick person in the world, but she was the only person who was terminally ill merely because of a family curse. What an unfortunate and miserable life it was.

But Isabella didn’t resent her fate. Although she resented what Countess Helsington put her through, Isabella realized that it wasn’t worth her energy. It was a waste of her emotions. So she quietly left the dining room, and nobody spared her a second glance.

***

“Ah, Lady Isabella!”

The moment she closed the dining room door, she began to sway. Joanne, who had been waiting outside, rushed to help her.

“It hurts, Joanne.”

The place where her maid held her throbbed like it had been beaten with a club. Joanne let go of her when she noticed the pain on her face, giving her a gentle nudge instead. Despite the lack of force, Isabella collapsed.

“Goodness! I’m sorry, Lady Isabella.” Joanne picked her up roughly, with a tight grip.

“I said it hurts, Joanne.”

“Then can you walk by yourself?” the maid questioned, threatening to let go of her. She had a haughty look on her face.

Isabella bit the inside of her mouth. Standing on her own was becoming increasingly difficult. Joanne’s help was inevitable if she wanted to go back to the attic, her safe haven. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Please, Joanne.”

The maid wore a satisfied smile as she put her arms around Isabella.

***

Sometime later, Isabella woke up on her bed. No one else was around. Her head was throbbing. She considered calling Joanne but decided against it. It wasn’t like her maid could do anything about the splitting pain in her head anyway.

She took a deep breath, hoping the pain would go away soon. The smell of mold and burning wood was comforting to Isabella. The attic of House Helsington was small and shabby, with only a creaky bed, a wobbly end table, and a wardrobe with a broken hinge. But Isabella loved it. This was her only sanctuary.

Here, she could express her pain as much as she wanted without worrying about what other people thought. Although the attic was scorching hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter, it had its advantages. For one thing, the slanted window let the sun in.

Isabella loved the sun, but it was also necessary for her survival because she had trouble maintaining her body temperature. She would always cough up blood and fall ill after a cloudy day. That’s why she was bedridden during the rainy season.

The attic had a fireplace as well, and the smell and crackle of burning wood were comforting. She could feel her headache fading as she focused on the quiet sound. Just then, she heard a knock at the door.

Who could that be? Nobody ever comes to my room.

Isabella’s eyes widened.