The first thing her own father ever said to Emilia was not a greeting. It was, "What is that thing, and why is it blocking my way?"
Emilia froze for a second. Then she bent, dragged the shoe off her foot, and hurled it straight at the face of the man who had just called her that thing.
A few hours earlier, before the manor gates had even opened, no one could have guessed that the first meeting between father and daughter would end like this.
Emilia was the only daughter of Duke Cardan, ruler of one of the most powerful territories in the empire. But her standing in the household was painfully complicated. She was already six years old, and yet she still wore nothing but shabby, threadbare clothes, without a trace of the dignity befitting a young lady. On top of that, her frail little frame made her look more like a child of five.
Still, Emilia seemed used to it by now. Everyone has their share of hardship in life.
She had been reborn into the world of a romantic fantasy novel she had once read. It told the story of Duke Cardan, a man who did not understand what love was, raised only to carry the weight of his family's name, and of Rainer, a great saint of unknown origin, with a warm heart and unmatched divine power.
The two of them had met as if fate itself had arranged it, weathering every hardship together and vowing to stay by each other's side for life. They married, and they lived happily. If the story had simply ended there, it would have been a good one.
Unfortunately, right after that beautiful love story closed, tragedy began. Rainer suffered a difficult birth. Her body never recovered, and she passed away. Cardan was devastated beyond words. As for Emilia, though she had been born healthy, her grieving father, lost in his own sorrow, forgot she even existed.
Having landed in this body, Emilia could only sigh at her own fate. This practically counted as child neglect. On top of that, she had to endure the maids mocking her behind her back, laughing among themselves.
They called her a young lady in name only, no better than a servant. Truth be told, she had never once been treated like a proper young lady. They said she was nothing but a mouth to feed, and wondered aloud why the nanny even bothered with her. Wasn't it obvious that she had been cast aside because the Duke did not love her?
Even having crossed into this world, hearing those words still stung.
That night, as the nanny read her a bedtime story, Emilia buried herself in the woman's arms and held on tight, as if searching for the little warmth this cold place had to offer. No matter how brightly the moon shone, her wish seemed unlikely to ever come true. In her past life, her own mother had abandoned her at an orphanage, and yet she still longed, just once, to feel what it was like to be loved by a family.
The next morning, the moment Emilia woke up, she found the servants bustling about the manor in a frenzy of cleaning. It turned out that Duke Cardan was about to return, which was why everyone was scrambling to prepare.
The instant Emilia stepped out of her room, the head maid shot her an irritated glance and told her to get back inside, out of sight.
"The whole manor is in chaos right now. Just stay put in your room and don't cause trouble."
Emilia could only stand there. She was a young lady too, wasn't she? How dare this woman speak to her like that? Such blatant disrespect.
Then again, what could she expect? She was a lady in title only. She did not even know this body's real name yet.
Her lot in life truly was miserable. But nobody should think for a second that she would sit quietly and take it. She was a child of six who had never once laid eyes on her own father. Today she was determined to see that supposedly flawless face for herself.
After a long wait, a servant finally announced that Cardan had returned.
A breathtakingly handsome face filled her vision at once. Without thinking, she walked straight up to him, bowed her head, and stammered out a greeting.
At his answer, Emilia's whole body went rigid.
He had just called her that thing. Was she doomed to be cast aside in this life too, exactly the way she had been before?
The shoe left her hand before she had decided anything at all. She called him an idiot, spun around, and bolted.
After running for a while, it dawned on her with a jolt of panic exactly what she had just done. She was certain to be punished severely for it, and the servants would only have one more reason to mock her.
But then, unexpectedly, Cardan bent down, picked up her fallen shoe, and started walking toward her.
Seeing him approach, Emilia was terrified out of her mind. Was he chasing her down to punish her? If this cruel man tried anything, she would throw the other shoe at his face too. Even as she thought this, her whole body trembled with fear.
A sharp pain shot from her foot straight up to her head, snapping her fully awake. She quickly sat down and pulled off her sock to look. She had been running too fast, and her foot was hurt.
Cardan said nothing. He only stared at her in silence for a long moment, his face stern. Then, without a word, he set the shoe down and turned to walk away.
Emilia thought to herself, could he have recognized her? If so, there was still hope. No matter where this led, she would have to cross paths with him again.
Just wait, Cardan. She would melt that heart of his with a little affection. The survival instincts she had honed at the orphanage would not let her give up this easily.