Episode 1

#1. Elouise Starwood

Elouise Starwood considered herself a rather fortunate young woman.

She was the daughter of a once-respectable viscount family—though her father had squandered their fortune, leaving behind nothing but the title. Still, she possessed a moderately attractive face.

She was reasonably intelligent. By the time she turned twelve, she had already learned to read and write in Toulous, the language of the nobility. Agile and light on her feet, she could walk gracefully with five books balanced on her head like a refined lady, while her sister and five years her senior, Louise, struggled to take ten steps with just one.

Her cheerful disposition induced favorable impressions amongst the people. She wasn’t particularly meticulous—perhaps a bit too easygoing—but as a noblewoman, she figured a steward would make up for it. Though her family had been too poor to afford one during her childhood, everyone believed she would marry well.

Her curly chestnut hair shimmered with a healthy sheen, and her bright blue eyes sparkled endearingly. Acquaintances and the nanny often said she'd marry into a far better family than Louise ever could.

Even when her father went missing after a failed mining investment—last seen wandering the streets drunk—Elouise remained optimistic. At least he hadn’t returned as a corpse. As long as he was alive somewhere, that was enough for her.

When Louise eloped with a penniless man she had fallen in love with, Elouise had yet to be fazed. She hoped Louise had truly found love, believing that someone as clumsy and slow, both physically and mentally, would be miserable with the wrong man.

So Elouise genuinely prayed for her sister’s happiness. She also felt relieved—now she only had to worry about supporting herself. Clever Elouise had long realized that marrying into a good family was no longer an option within her deck.

She decided to work as a private tutor for noble families in the small town of Maine, where she resided. She taught Toulous and etiquette to young noble ladies. No one in Maine could match her knowledge on how to walk gracefully, smile charmingly, or flutter a fan just right.

At nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…

Elouise remained unattached to any noble house.

Maine was far too small for her to commit to a single family as a full-time tutor. Financially, it made more sense to teach several students from different families. Her reputation quickly shifted from that of an elegant and intelligent young lady to a well-paid and highly competent tutor.

Still, Elouise considered herself fortunate. Being known as someone “worth the pay” was far from a bad thing.

At twenty-three, Elouise realized the occasional marriage proposals she used to receive had come to an abrupt halt. It struck her one spring afternoon, as she sipped on her coffee in a crowded café, trying to recall when her last suitor had come calling. At the developed age of twenty-three, no men were interested in marrying her anymore.

The only property her missing father had left her—the Starwood estate—was too large for her to maintain alone. But it wasn’t grand or elegant enough to sell for any meaningful profit. It was a burden. Her once-celebrated beauty was beginning to fade. All her earnings went into keeping the estate running, and her skin grew rough from the stress.

Yet Elouise never stopped trying to maintain the Starwood estate.

If her father ever returned, he would need somewhere to lay his head. And if Louise ever came back with nowhere else to go, there would be space for her too.

Elouise continued her tutoring, dreaming that the Starwood home might once again echo with children’s laughter, as it had in her earliest memories when their mother was still alive.

And then at twenty-nine, Elouise’s wish came true—though not in the way she had hoped.

It turned out Louise had fled to a city barely a few miles away.

That fact stung. Louise had been so close all this time. She had lived there with her lover, bore a child, and settled into a modest life.

Unfortunately, Louise had not been as fortunate as Elouise.

Her husband bounced from job to job. Louise sold vegetables in the market while raising their child. It wasn’t a noble life—not even close—but it was ordinary by commoners’ standards.

Wracked with guilt over failing to provide for his family, Louise’s husband eventually turned to gambling. A year later, overwhelmed by debt, he hanged himself.

Louise returned to the Starwood estate in the middle of the night with her daughter in tow. Elouise cried and embraced her sister tightly. Louise’s eleven-year-old daughter simply stood between them, blinking in confusion.

Three days later, Louise passed away from a fever.

Elouise wept before her sister’s grave.

Louise’s daughter, Juliet, walked up and gazed at her silently. Then, without warning, the girl slapped Elouise’s cheek. The small hand stung more than expected. Elouise gaped at her in shock.

She saw before her a doll-like child with sparkling golden hair and striking blue eyes—it was almost laughable. Her demeanor bore no resemblance to Louise.

“Ma…ma,” Juliet said slowly, her gaze fixed on Elouise.

Elouise felt as if struck by lightning.

Only then did she realize she had left Juliet alone and neglected for two days while managing the funeral.

“Stomach hurts. I want Mommy,” Juliet whispered.

Tears streamed down Elouise’s face.

She hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand and gently covered Juliet's cheek. She assumed the girl meant she was hungry but did not know how to express herself properly.

It was February, and the wind was bitter, yet Juliet wore only a thin dress. Elouise hadn’t thought to dress her.

She gathered the girl close, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Juliet silently wrapped her arms around Elouise’s neck.

The child hadn’t eaten for two days, yet she didn’t complain or cry. Elouise marveled at her quiet strength.

Once again, she felt fortunate.

At the age of twenty-nine, without the need to marry or attend arranged dates, she now had a daughter.

A kind, obedient, lovable daughter.

The once-lonely Starwood estate would echo with a child’s voice once again. It was time to stop grieving.

Elouise now had someone to care for beyond just herself—a sweet, charming little girl. She quickly wrapped her cape around Juliet's thin shoulders and picked her up.

An eleven-year-old girl was heavy to carry, but Juliet felt light as paper. Perhaps it was the lack of proper shoes? Elouise glanced at the child’s bare feet and smiled through her tears. She already foresaw the struggles this child would bring. There would be no more time for sorrow.

“Let’s go inside, Juliet. You must be hungry. Let’s get something warm to eat.”

Juliet said nothing, only hugging her tighter. Her ice-cold fingers brushed against Elouise’s neck, but Elouise did not feel a hint of chill.

And just like that, Elouise—ever so fortunate—had a daughter.

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