Fortunately, a strong gust of wind happened to blow in from outside at just the right moment, masking any suspicious sound. But that did nothing to calm Vivian’s racing heart.
Peter and I… married? I don’t even love Peter! You’re supposed to marry someone you love!
Of course, there was a hidden agenda behind it all—once Vivian came of age, they would no longer be able to act as her guardians. If she married Peter, they could legally swallow up the Lambert family entirely. But Vivian was far too young to understand such schemes.
All she knew was that the idea of marrying Peter was absolutely horrifying.
“Ugh…”
Before she even realized it, she was stepping backward. It felt like a scream might burst out of her any second.
If she was caught eavesdropping, they would lock her in the attic like a rat.
When she finally returned to her room, she was gasping for breath.
She didn’t even remember how she made it back. Suddenly, her stomach lurched.
“U-ugh… blegh.”
In the fairy tales her father used to read, the princess always kissed the prince after marriage.
“Ggh… huff… huh…”
Just imagining kissing Peter made her feel sick.
That unpleasant smile Peter had worn earlier that day flashed through her mind.
Did Peter already know about this?
Does he not hate the idea of marrying me?
He always acted like he wanted to pick fights with her, so he must hate her too.
But the truth was different. Peter didn’t actually dislike Vivian. In fact, he had liked her since they were very young—but Vivian never recognized his twisted way of expressing affection, and she had no reason to.
If you like someone, you’re supposed to treat them kindly.
Either way, Vivian buried her face into the straw-stuffed pillow that rustled beneath her and teared up.
I don’t want to marry Peter!
But no matter how much she refused, it wasn’t as if Ron and Mary would say, “I see. We should have raised our son better, we’re truly sorry. Then we’ll cancel the marriage.”
What should I do? Should I ask someone for help?
But there was no one in the village who could help her.
Another village? She had never even left this one in her entire life.
Between villages lay a vast forest said to be filled with wolves and bears that devoured anyone who lost their way.
“Sniff… sob…”
No matter how she thought about it, there was nowhere to run.
Exhausted from crying, Vivian eventually fell asleep—only to dream of Peter chasing her endlessly with his lips puckered.
Vivian woke with red, swollen eyes. She looked so pale that even Mary flinched when she saw her.
But that didn’t mean she was allowed to rest.
As always, she washed dishes, dusted furniture, and scrubbed the floors—then received a single piece of bread as payment.
“Haaah…”
Thanks to all the laundry she had worked hard on the previous day—so hard her hands had nearly frozen—there wasn’t much left for her to do until dinner.
Mary had originally planned to make Vivian help with cooking too. But Vivian was so catastrophically bad at it that Mary had given up, preferring to eat food that wasn’t ruined.
So, in a way, she had a rare moment of free time.
Vivian headed upstairs to her room—the only place where she could somewhat relax.
She was about to go inside.
“Hey!”
Peter appeared.
“Where do you think you’re going? Hiding in your room again?”
“….”
“What, should I play with you? It’s a good deed to entertain someone who looks miserable, you know?”
“I don’t need it.”
Marry this guy? Seriously?
Vivian swallowed a sigh but couldn’t stop herself from glaring at him with pure disgust.
That clearly irritated Peter.
“What was that?! I even offered to play with you!”
“I said I don’t need it! Who wants to play with you anyway?”
Peter stepped closer with an intimidating expression. Vivian instinctively retreated up the stairs.
“What did you just say?”
“D-don’t come closer!”
Every time Vivian climbed two steps up, Peter followed two steps. It felt like a herbivore being hunted by a predator.
“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re going to marry me anyway. You should behave yourself, Vivi.”
Peter was repeating what he had overheard from Ron and Mary, and Vivian trembled.
“Who said I’m marrying you? Go away!”
“You think you can just say no? When I’m being nice—”
“I said I’m not doing it!”
Thud.
Unable to endure his continued approach, Vivian pushed him.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been a meaningless shove.
Vivian was small and weak from being underfed, far smaller than other children her age.
And Peter was two years older, well-fed, and physically bigger.
But the problem was that Peter had been climbing the stairs at that exact moment—one foot was already in the air, his balance unstable.
And Vivian pushed him precisely at the moment his center of gravity shifted.
Crash!
Peter tumbled down the stairs with a loud, chaotic thud.
“P-Peter!”
“Waaah!! Mom!! Mom!!”
Hearing the commotion, Mary—who had been resting in the living room—rushed out at the sound of her son’s crying.
“Peter! Oh my goodness! What happened… Vivian?”
“Waaah, Mom! I was just trying to play with her because she looked lonely… hic… but Vivian… she pushed me!”
“My poor baby! Honey! Ron! Come here right now!”
“Why are you shouting? What in the world—Peter again?”
Ron, who had been dozing off in the study, appeared after Mary’s call. Vivian was now trembling so badly she could barely stand.
“She pushed him down the stairs! Take him to the doctor immediately! I’ll deal with this child myself!”
“Down the stairs? Good grief.”
When Ron’s gaze turned to her, Vivian quickly lowered her eyes.
“Ow… it hurts… it hurts so much…”
“Poor Peter! Men don’t cry. Daddy will take you to the doctor. There, there.”
Ron carried the wailing Peter away.
Mary watched them disappear, then turned sharply back to Vivian, her face hardened.
“Vivian! How could you do something like that? Peter is the only one who takes care of you!”
It was absurd, but Vivian, terrified, couldn’t say a word.
“You’re a wicked child. We’ll have to correct your behavior. And I’m taking back that bread I gave you earlier! You’ll go hungry today so you learn your lesson!”
“I-I’ll go hungry.”
“What?”
Vivian’s once-clear blue eyes clouded over, and tears began to fall in heavy drops.
Her mouth opened as fear and sorrow overwhelmed her.
“I’ll… I’ll go hungry… I’ll do the chores properly… I’ll behave… so please… I won’t… I won’t marry Peter…”
“Marriage? Where did you hear—”
“I don’t want to marry him! I don’t want to!”
“Honestly… where did she even overhear that?”
Mary sighed.
A small child crying might normally soften someone’s heart—but instead, Mary’s expression only grew colder.
She worried that if the child grew older, she might demand her rights and drive the family out.
Better to correct her now.
“What’s wrong with marrying Peter? You’ll only be able to stay here for life if you marry our son!”
“Aaaahhh!”
Mary grabbed Vivian’s arm tightly. Vivian stumbled repeatedly as she was dragged forward.
“Enough. You’ll stay in the attic until you learn your lesson.”
“No! The attic has rats!”
“If you don’t want to be locked up, then behave properly!”
The attic door swung open, releasing a cloud of dust. Mary shoved Vivian inside as if tossing her away, then looked at her with a cold gaze.
“If even one thing happens to Peter’s leg, you’ll stay in there for a week.”
“I’m sorry! I was wrong! I won’t do it again!”
Vivian begged, but Mary slammed the door shut without hesitation.
Bang.
Vivian pounded on the door, crying and begging to be let out—but it did not open again.
