The Return of the Disgraced Daughter

It was the 28th of December in the nation of Quindon—the middle of a harsh winter.

Lilian Kerr had just finished doing the morning laundry, but the madame of the washhouse was shouting at her before she could dry her freezing hands, "Move it, Lilian! The marquis has sent for you!"

She froze—the marquis?

It was such a familiar title, but she had since become estranged from it.

After all, she had been the marquis' daughter for fifteen years, and three years ago, she was told that she was not really his daughter.

It turned out that the midwife had switched her own daughter with the real marquis' daughter, but she had somehow found her conscience before her death and told the truth.

Lilian still clearly remembered how thrilled the marquis and his wife had been when they were reunited with Evelyn Lestrade, the real daughter of the marquis. They were holding each other as they broke into tears, crying and laughing.

Through it all, Lilian stood in a corner, watching in confusion as to why her parents of fifteen years were suddenly not her parents.

Perhaps sensing her dismay, Marquis Lestrade promised her that she was still a daughter of his house, telling Evelyn to treat Lilian as her elder sister. Even the marquis assured her that they would love her like their own.

And yet, they were there, watching as Evelyn broke the princess' favorite bowl and shifted the blame on Lilian. They were also watching as the princess snapped at Lilian, sentencing her to a life as a mere servant, all while sticking by Evelyn's side, never breathing a word.

At that moment, Lilian knew that she was no longer their daughter.

"What are you spacing out for, Lilian?! Don't make the marquis' son wait!"

The madame's voice yanked Lilian out of her thoughts, and she turned toward the doorway to find a towering figure standing outside.

The winter sun almost appeared pale, but it seemed to gain a fluorescence as it glowed over the man.

Nonetheless, Lilian was caught off guard by the pain in her heart, even though it had been a while since she felt anything.

After all, that was Rupert Lestrade, the man whom she had addressed as her brother for fifteen years.

The man who had traveled miles just to get her a rare pearl.

The man who had pushed her off the second-floor stairs because of Evelyn.

After three years, the grief that seemed to be gone resurfaced.

Still, Lilian took a deep breath to suppress it, keeping her expression calm as she walked over to Rupert.

Once close enough, she knelt before Rupert, her voice cool—even distant. "Mr. Lestrade."

-

Before he arrived, Rupert had imagined how things would turn out when he met Lilian again.

He was convinced that, considering her old personality, she would be throwing herself into his arms, pouting and complaining about how much grief she had been put through in the last three years.

That, or she would refuse to see him out of spite.

What he did not expect was for her to walk toward him and kneel ever so calmly.

She had been his sister for fifteen years! He pampered her so much that he basically nurtured her pride and willfulness.

But now…

Even as Rupert felt like someone was tearing at his heart, his hands clenched behind his back, and he was suddenly unable to breathe.

He had to inhale deeply before finally speaking. "Grandmother misses you. And considering how old she is, the empress has allowed you to leave."

Frowning a little as if realizing his tone was harsh, he strode up and pulled her up, softening his voice as he said, "Come home with me."

With her head still lowered, Lilian blinked.

'Come home with me.'

Heaven knew how long she had been waiting for those words to be said—when she was first sent to this washhouse, she had hoped for the day that Rupert would come to take her home.

But as days passed, hope turned to disappointment, until she stopped hoping entirely.

She was therefore shocked that Rupert actually came.

Taking a step back and gently distancing herself from Rupert's grasp, she bowed as she said, "I'm humbled by the grace that Her Majesty and Madam Lestrade have shown me."

Her tone was earnest as her attitude was respectful, but the way she spoke, as if she was detached from it all, stung Rupert's heart.

Withdrawing his hand, he frowned as he growled in annoyance, "Father never disowned you. You may have worked here for three years, but you're still a member of the family—you were never a servant."

How could the sister he had spoiled rotten since she was a child be a servant?

And yet, Lilian found only irony in those words.

Over the last three years, she was up before dawn to clean the laundry, from day until night, until her skin peeled off.

And the madame would snap at her for the littlest things, like she was less than a servant.

Family? Status? What was the point?

Still, seeing that Lilian was quiet, Rupert took a deep breath to repress his rage. "You don't need to pack—there's everything you need back at the marquis' residence. Come on, don't make Grandmother wait."

He turned to leave but soon turned to find Lilian keeping a polite distance, her eyes fixed on her path and not on him.

Remembering how clingy she had been, his rage flared, and he quickened his pace.

However, Lilian's sprained ankle had lingered and worsened after Rupert pushed her down the stairs three years ago, and she certainly had no chance of keeping up.

Soon, Rupert was already back in his carriage, while she had only reached the front door of the washhouse.

The footman was a longtime servant of the marquis and therefore bowed his head since he recognized Lilian. "Milady."

Lilian bowed back and climbed on the carriage but sat beside the footman.

The footman was surprised. "Why aren't you going inside, milady?"

Lilian shook her head. "That would be inappropriate."

Just as she finished, Rupert was out again, dragging her off and kicking her to the ground.

"You're so unseemly!" he bellowed furiously. "If you don't want to go back, then stay here as a servant!"

Lilian's brow creased as she turned pale in pain—her ankle must be sprained again.

At the same time, Rupert demanded coldly, "Are you trying to spite me just because you feel aggrieved? You stole fifteen years of happiness from Evelyn, and you've only suffered three years for it—you don't get to complain!

"Hell, you can walk if you don't like the carriage! While you do, think about who you are and whether you have the right to spite me, or you'd be just an eyesore when you return to Grandmother's presence!"

And with that outburst, Rupert shut the carriage door and bellowed at the footman, "We're leaving!"

The footman did not dare to disobey, only casting Lilian a worried glance before leaving.

Still, Lilian remained unaffected as she watched the carriage speed into the distance.

After all, she had already been abandoned three years ago by the people she loved most dearly.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself off the ground and started limping toward Shanti, the marquis' residence.

Before long, however, another carriage stopped in front of her, and a large hand opened the door, revealing a cool gaze staring at her. "Ms. Lestrade?"