It Seemed My Fiancé Hated Me, So I Distanced Myself—But for Some Reason, He Complained - Chapter 7

“…Lord Ryan was as kind as ever.”

“Hmph. I see.”

Chelsea said this with a bored tone, then turned her back to me in a whirl, the hem of her red skirt fluttering as she ran off.

As I walked down the hallway, I could hear cheerful laughter coming from inside a room.

Peeking gently through the crack in the door, I saw Chelsea laughing together, surrounded by Father and Stepmother.

I could hear the three of them talking happily.

“Father, Mother, Sister Clarissa just came back. Hey, I want to go to the party soon too!”

“Oh, no, Chelsea. You haven’t made your society debut yet.”

“That’s right, Chelsea. You’ll have to wait a bit longer to attend parties. For your society debut next year, I’ll prepare a dress more wonderful than any other young lady’s.”

“Really? Father!”

“Yes, I promise. Any dress would suit you, Chelsea.”

“That’s wonderful, Chelsea. Once you make your society debut, you’ll surely be flooded with suitors.”

“Do you think so? Mother!”

“I’m sure of it. But we must be careful that no bad influences attach themselves to you. It would have been best if we could have secured Lord Ryan of the Flory dukedom as your fiancé.”

“Exactly! Father, why did you make Lord Ryan Sister Clarissa’s fiancé or anything like that? If I were to get engaged, I would have preferred someone like Lord Ryan too.”

“Forgive me, Chelsea. I acted hastily, pressured by my former wife.”

“What a bothersome woman. Even after dying, she’s still causing trouble.”

I could hear the three of them disparaging me and my mother. Unable to bear it, I stepped away from the door.

In the friendly estate of the Meriam marquisate, I alone was the unwanted one.

Chelsea, one year younger than me, is currently fifteen. Next year, she will be presented to society for the first time.

Both Father and Stepmother are already absorbed in preparations for Chelsea’s debut, visiting numerous shops to prepare dresses and accessories.

The servants assigned to Chelsea were also enthusiastically joining in, eager to adorn her.

Of course, the treatment was completely different from mine. Last year, I attended the ball with no one paying me any mind, barely managing to alter my mother’s dress.

Chelsea, loved by both our parents and the servants.

Every time the laughter of Chelsea and those surrounding her echoed, I was seized by the thought that perhaps someone like me had no reason to exist.

That thought that surfaced was surely not mistaken.