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IGF 1
The House of Bluebell. In this family, said to have existed since the dawn of the kingdom's founding, there lived a rumor that had nearly vanished in the present day. It was the whisper that the blood of the fairies—the Sylphs—flowed through the veins of the Bluebells. As if to support the legend of a fairy lineage, every member of the Bluebell family possessed extraordinary beauty. And among them, the one said to have been born with the most exquisite beauty of all was Roselyn Bluebell.
The most beautiful flower of the Count Bluebell's household, she had earned the nickname "Blue Rose" even before her debut, thanks to her refreshing smile and ethereal, fairy-like features. However, it was around the age of fourteen that Roselyn Bluebell, who always wore a bright and fresh smile, began to wither.
Her mother, whom she believed would be by her side forever, passed away in a carriage accident. For Roselyn, who struggled to contain her grief, her father brought home a stepmother. He likely hoped that she could fill the void left by her mother.
Just as Roselyn began to recover her heart, relying on her father who always held and comforted her and the stepmother who smiled warmly at her, she received the news that her father had contracted a plague on his way back from the estate and had passed away.
They say misfortune never comes alone; perhaps the sudden change in her warm stepmother was a foregone conclusion. According to Imperial law, which stated that women could not inherit titles, the title of Count should have passed to a male relative. However, since the House of Bluebell had no relatives to inherit the title, the stepmother, Selena, took charge of the family's management until young Roselyn reached adulthood and married. Having seized full power, Selena began to slowly replace the maids who were friendly toward Roselyn.
By the time her tears had run dry, the familiar maids had vanished. When Roselyn, exhausted and suffering from a fever for the first time in her life, finally regained her strength, she found that even her nanny—who had stood up to Selena—had been dismissed. It was around that time that Roselyn's room was moved to the attic storage under the pretext of renovations.
Roselyn felt as though she were in the position of the cinder-girl she had read about in fairy tales. Her happy childhood had been far too short, and she now had a stepmother who treated her with coldness, just like in the stories. Yet, she could endure it. Just as the cinder-girl eventually found a happy ending, she believed that her future would not be plagued by misfortune forever.
However, perhaps because the cinder-girl was ultimately just a fairy tale, reality was far harsher. From the moment she was forcibly sent to a convent by Selena, Roselyn felt her hope gradually slipping away day by day.
"To be honest, I absolutely detest raising something."
There was not a trace of that former gentle smile on Selena's face as she muttered with a furrowed brow. Selena even spread a rumor that she had no choice but to send Roselyn to the convent to teach her the grace of a lady, claiming that Roselyn lacked modesty.
Roselyn Bluebell, who had once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Violet of Marquess Russell's house as a leading light of society, became an immature girl of poor conduct in an instant. Because she was practically imprisoned in the convent, the rumors flew far and wide before she could correct them. This was thanks to a few people who had secretly envied her for shining so brightly even at a young age.
Still, it was alright. The ember of hope had not been completely extinguished. Six years of time had made the grueling life in the convent somewhat bearable. Moreover, her coming-of-age was fast approaching. Once she became an adult, she would be able to recover her mother's keepsakes, and the spouse she chose would inherit the House of Bluebell. Then, she would truly gain her freedom and escape from her stepmother.
"Sister Roselyn. Have you finished today's sewing?"
As she was blankly counting how many days were left until her birthday, the sharp voice of the Mother Superior pierced through. Hurriedly tidying the fabrics she had spread out, Roselyn tucked them neatly into a reed basket.
"Yes, Mother Superior. I just finished. I was just about to take them to Sister Josephine."
"...Make sure you are not late for evening prayer. If you attempt any more profane activities with herbs like last time, it will not end with prayer in ice water."
The Mother Superior spoke as if issuing a threat, but Roselyn did not blink; she simply met her gaze and smiled. Roselyn's beauty, now flowing with the poise of a full-fledged lady, possessed a power that made even the Mother Superior, who was determined to break her, hesitate for a moment.
'That profanely bright hair color. Those profanely sparkling blue eyes!'
Mother Superior Agnes felt her pride wounded by the fact that she had stared blankly at the girl for a split second. Since childhood, that girl had a knack for grating on people's nerves while smiling subtly. It was irritating how she remained cheerful and never lost heart, no matter how much she was scolded.
At first, Agnes had taken her in thinking she was a blessing, as the Countess Bluebell had provided a significant donation while entrusting her to the convent. Had she known that donation would be the first and last, she would never have made such a mistake. She regretted it even more after hearing the rumor that the Countess had put the child in the convent because her conduct was immodest and she was fond of men.
Agnes had run this convent perfectly, and she was anxious that it might be seen as a den of problem children because of one girl. She suffered so much internally, unable to kick her out because of the public eye!
She disliked the girl's attitude—keeping her head held high despite being nothing more than a mouth to feed—and she was displeased by the way she used a bewitching smile to subtly coax other nuns to her side. Agnes wanted to make those blue eyes shed tears, but since Roselyn had been completing her assigned tasks flawlessly lately, she had no excuse to do so.
'Wicked girl.'
"You must keep the words of the Lord God engraved in your heart, over and over, Sister Roselyn. It is because of the Lord's mercy that someone like you is helped to fulfill your role as a human being. Pray every day, repent, and seek forgiveness. You must not neglect your discipline for a single day. From the moment the Lord created the primordial world, He is one who does not miss a single small life and arranges things in ways we, His servants, cannot possibly predict. Therefore, Sister Roselyn must never forget this fact and govern the wickedness and lewdness within her to fully serve as a servant of God..."
"I will keep that in mind."
Roselyn nodded quickly before the Mother Superior's speech could drag on further. Thanks to years of harassment, she had developed the ability to let such scoldings go in one ear and out the other. Even the torment of having her prayer hours extended to last all night, or being intentionally sent on errands during mealtimes so she couldn't eat, had become so familiar that it no longer bothered her. Though, she did find it quite difficult when she had to pray while submerged in ice water recently.
She gave a slight bow to the glaring Agnes and headed outside with her basket. As she opened the door leading to the inner courtyard, the sight of green shoots just beginning to sprout around the statues provided a refreshing view.
Roselyn spread her free hand wide, feeling the wind blow through her fingers. The warm scent carried by the breeze made it clear that the cold winter had nearly passed. Roselyn's birthday always arrived around the start of spring. Truly, her coming-of-age was only a few days away. Feeling a new sprout growing in a corner of her heart, she passed through the path toward the education hall.
"Ah, Sister Roselyn has arrived."
"Good morning, Sister Josephine. I've finished the sewing and brought it to you."
As she opened the door and entered, a woman wearing a monocle and embroidering greeted her with a welcoming voice. Sister Josephine, who was even older than Mother Superior Agnes, was a fixture of the Tormel Convent and the teacher who had taught Roselyn many things, including how to sew.
"Oh, so quickly? Your skills are improving by the day, Roselyn."
"It's all thanks to you, Sister."
Roselyn sat beside Josephine, chatting brightly about how the Mother Superior had barged in, causing her to arrive earlier than expected. From fingertips marked by the passage of time, a beautiful blue rose was being embroidered onto a handkerchief.
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