People in the Kingdom of Field believed the old tales about changelings, the spirits who took the place of newborn babies, and several times a year, news of such an incident was reported. Although she was young, Brigitte knew well that one of the reasons people called her the Red Fairy was to suggest teasingly that the real Brigitte Meidell had been switched at birth with a red-haired fairy.

“Really? Why’s that?” Joseph asked. He didn’t sound like he was teasing her, which was a first for Brigitte. And so, despite the red rising in her cheeks, she was able to answer him with confidence.

“…Spirits can be frightening, but…I think they’re very beautiful.”

“Huh. Good answer.”

That was all. That was how it began.

Joseph, the Third Prince, simply said those words and smiled. But to the young Brigitte, that reply saved her in ways she never could have imagined.

Joseph must have liked her, because the royal family sent an official notice, and soon after, the two were engaged.

Her parents cautiously sent a servant to tell her—she never saw them in person anymore. When she heard the news, she could have floated to the ceiling. Joseph was her only friend, and her attachment to him was hardly surprising.

But soon enough, even her savior began to change.

“My favorite girls are the stupid ones,” he declared coldly one day.

Brigitte was confused. If he had a preference, she wanted to be the kind of fiancée he preferred, but she simply couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“…What do you mean by stupid girls?” she asked hesitantly.

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“Girls who don’t know anything and want other people to tell them. Like you did just now. That’s what I like.”

Brigitte couldn’t find a response, but Joseph’s mood seemed to improve.

Things like this began happening every day.

“I like girls who look good in pink. I’ll bet their brains are the exact same color.”

“I’m bored; you should try ranting and raving a bit to make life more interesting.”

“You should cover your face with makeup. Put it on so thick that no one can see what you look like without it.”

“Nobody likes a girl who scores better on her tests than her fiancé. Hasn’t that ever occurred to you?”

Brigitte was desperate—desperate to become whatever Joseph liked. She changed more and more about herself. She threw away all her favorite clothes. She filled her closet with an overflow of pink. She changed how she talked. She changed how she treated people, sneering at them until everyone hated her. She switched out all her makeup and started caking it on. She intentionally missed half the answers on her tests. She threw away her old self and became someone new.

After all…

I want His Highness to think I’m cute.

Yes, at the start, she was sure she had felt a weak kind of love.

But what about now?

She tried to think on it, but she couldn’t make sense of anything. His eyes had been so kind back when they had first met, but that was a thing of the past. Now all she saw was a mix of contempt and hatred—no one would normally act this way toward the fiancée they had chosen for themselves.

Although I don’t need to worry about that anymore…

She was frustrated with herself for even now trying to rethink the situation.

It was all over.

He broke our engagement…

She couldn’t help remembering the previous night’s party.

She lay on her bed with her arms wrapped around her knees and squeezed her eyes shut.

At least she didn’t have school today. There was no way she could have dragged herself to class.

The scene outside her window was sodden with the rain that had been falling since morning.

She slipped in and out of wakefulness, but she found no peace. Maybe it was the incessant sound of the rain.

The day her father had burned her hand when she was five—

A light rain had started in the morning, too. Her left hand began to twitch, and she pressed it with her right.

It hurts…

She had been dragged into the drawing room.

She remembered the iron grip of her father as she stood before the blazing hearth.

Her throat had tightened with terror, but she was no match for the strength in a man’s large hand.

In her memories, her father took the form of a devil berating her again and again. He shouted and shoved her hand into the flames while she screamed.

“Can’t you do something right for once in your life, you worthless excuse for a child—?”

Brigitte squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, trying not to hear his voice.

It’s been eleven years, but…

Why did it still hurt so much? She grimaced.

At the sound of a knock on the door, she hurriedly lifted her face and answered awkwardly.

Sienna, her waiting maid, stepped into the room. “Miss Brigitte,” she said, her angled orange bob falling forward over her uniform as she bowed her head.

Sienna was two years older than Brigitte, a merchant’s daughter distantly related to the Meidells. She was short and appeared much younger than Brigitte when the two stood next to each other, but she was very competent, and Brigitte not only trusted her completely but secretly admired her as well.

“I brought you something easy to digest. Please try to eat a little.”

She kneeled next to the bed and peered into Brigitte’s face. When their eyes met, Brigitte thought she caught a shade of pain in Sienna’s expression. Sienna was always beautiful and dignified, but there was an urgency in her voice. She was clearly worried about her mistress.

The previous night when Brigitte came home, she had said she wasn’t feeling well, and she hadn’t left her room since.

Everyone knows what happened…

Joseph had ended their engagement.

He had accused her of things she had no recollection of doing, berated her for them…and she had crawled home like she was running from him.

There was no way her parents hadn’t heard. But no one asked her about it. She didn’t even know if they were relieved or disappointed.

“If I weren’t your waiting maid…I’d give you a hug to cheer you up.”

“No one would blame you if you did.”

Sienna stood up and timidly wrapped her arms around Brigitte.

“You’ve been suffering for more than a decade… I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything to help you.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve always been so thoughtful. I’m sorry,” Brigitte answered.

Sienna stiffened in surprise. “No,” she said, her voice unsteady.

Brigitte wondered why she hadn’t apologized sooner and wished she had.

All the maids in the cottage, not just Sienna, had hinted at how she should handle Joseph and his constant demands.

I was so stupid… I didn’t listen to a word they said…

Brigitte and Sienna hadn’t always gotten along well. It had to do with the fact that the whole reason the Meidell cottage had been built was to isolate Brigitte.

I feel so bad for them. I was the one being punished, but they had to suffer along with me. They didn’t do anything wrong…

Brigitte’s father had not been able to forgive her for contracting with a no-name spirit. He declared she had no right to live in the main Meidell residence and hastily ordered a cottage built in a far corner of the estate. It was there that he moved the five-year-old Brigitte, who was still recovering from her burns.

He had told her never to show her face in the manor again and called her a blemish on the Meidell name.

Brigitte’s mother refused to look her in the eye, as if the little girl had become a monstrosity to her.

The earl ordered Sienna and several other maids to care for Brigitte, forcing them out of the main residence. Cooks and gardeners, too. Those judged unfit for service in the main house were transferred with Brigitte to the cottage.

For this reason, relations between Brigitte and her staff in the early days were less than ideal. But after years of seeing her every day, they seemed to have warmed to her. They did not give up on her even when she went out and played the arrogant lady Joseph wanted her to be.

The only reason she survived her isolation after her family’s rejection, and the only reason she wasn’t giving in to despair after her fiancé’s rejection, was because Sienna and the other servants had stayed by her side. Here in this cramped cage, their presence was the only warmth she knew.

…She’s so toasty.

Thanks to Sienna’s arms around her, she felt a hint of warmth return to her frozen body.

“…Thank you, Sienna,” she murmured.

Sienna slowly released her. Her orange eyes glinted with mischief, which was unusual.

“When the rain stops…,” she began.

“Yes?”

“Let’s burn your pink dresses.”

“What? But—”

“Let’s burn them all. How does that sound?” Sienna said, smiling slightly.

Brigitte nodded under the influence of her waiting maid’s quiet power.

“Anyhow, the cook made you some warm stew, so I hope you’ll have a bowl. The head chef is so worried about you, he’s wandering around the kitchen with his knife in his hand.”

“Th-that doesn’t sound good… All right, I’ll have some. You’d better hurry and tell Nathan that I’m going to eat it.”

One of the advantages of the cottage was that the cook was always ready to serve her a warm meal, and it was always just the right amount.

Looking satisfied by Brigitte’s flustered answer, Sienna nodded and said, “I’ll tell him. Shall I bring it to your room?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll bring it right away,” Sienna said politely.

Brigitte felt like it had been ages since they’d had an ordinary exchange like this.

“…I don’t see what about you is arrogant or foolish, Miss Brigitte Meidell,” Sienna murmured.

By the time Brigitte realized what she’d said, Sienna had disappeared out the door.