Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 32: “Get Out.”

I shouldn’t have done it.

Earlier, I had acted out of anger, but now, after rinsing off in the water and wrapping myself in the pristine white bandages Rin had brought, the pain was creeping in.

I swallowed a handful of pills—painkillers Ernst and I had picked up from the hospital—and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

About ten minutes later, a sense of release washed over me, and the pain dulled just enough to be bearable.

Soon, I would have to act like nothing had happened during dinner.

How utterly dreadful.

A while later, Fabian arrived, his face a portrait of exhaustion.

He knocked.

“Knocking—now that’s a first.”

“…Mother wants you to come down for dinner.”

“Well then, let’s not keep her waiting.”

The creaking floorboards didn’t make a sound as I walked.

Did someone replace them? Or maybe they finally aligned just right in their warped state.

When I reached the dining room, everyone was already seated, looking as though they were biting into bile rather than food.

What a waste.

I’d rather feed all this food to the crows.

I took my seat and began eating, lifting a piece of perfectly cooked meat onto my plate.

As I carefully cut into the meat, Mother’s soft voice reached me.

“Emily.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“I heard you had some kind of… incident with Ellie earlier.”

“…Yes.”

“Can you tell me why you fought?”

“Mother, it wasn’t a fight…!” Ellie tried to interject, her voice trembling.

“Quiet, Ellie. Defending her like this will only spoil her. Even if she’s your sister, she shouldn’t be coddled.”

Coddling? Is that what she thinks this is?

I wasn’t sure, but maybe. It was irrelevant anyway—everything would be my fault in the end.

Getting hit in the head with a teacup? My fault for provoking Ellie.

The shards of glass embedded in the area? My fault for not dodging.

She’d probably say I was clumsy from birth.

And the blood I’d shown? How revolting it must have been for them to see.

A fresh wave of bitterness rose within me.

“Why we fought, you ask?”

“Yes. I’m not one to repeat myself unnecessarily.”

“There wasn’t a fight, so I don’t think there’s any reason to tell you anything.”

“That’s only your version, Emily.

The servants reported raised voices, broken dishes, and shattered glasses.”

“Raised voices, Mother? They happen every time you take up the rod and I grovel, begging you not to strike me. When you’re desperate to survive, you’ll say anything, won’t you? Ha.”

Mother smiled, unbothered, her face an immovable mask.

That smile wouldn’t waver—not unless Ellie got hurt in front of her.

If she’d been present when Ellie threw the teacup, she would have shielded her and scolded me for daring to provoke my perfect little sister.

Mother. Nothing happened.

It doesn’t matter if I was hit in the head, if shards flew everywhere, if dishes broke, or if my body is covered in wounds.

Ellie simply had an accident and broke some dishes, that’s all.

“Is that so, Ellie?”

Mother’s gaze turned to Ellie, who froze completely under the weight of it.

The silence stretched, feeling as though ten minutes had passed, but Mother didn’t say another word.

Ellie began to tremble.

It might seem minor, but the oppressive atmosphere Mother exuded was crushing.

She already knew everything.

If I had truly attacked Ellie, she would have dragged me to the punishment room by now.

There, we’d have one of those charming “conversations” of hers.

Except she wouldn’t be the one speaking.

The chair, the cold water, the fluttering towel, the leech-like ropes tying my wrists and ankles, and the occasional candle would all do the talking.

The only voice would be mine—begging.

“Ellie, you need to answer if you want to eat,” Mother said evenly.

From across the table, Fabian stared at me.

It was a short distance, just a few steps away, but the dining table felt like an impenetrable barrier.

I couldn’t read his expression—just an opaque mix of emotions.

Daniel, as usual, seemed entirely vacant.

He probably wasn’t thinking at all, content to spend his days with his endless riding and ball games.

I stifled a laugh and shoved another bite of food into my mouth.

These days, I ate until I nearly vomited.

Nothing stuck—no weight gained—but it didn’t matter.

Looking around, the scene felt almost comedic.

I ate as though nothing was wrong, Daniel remained oblivious, our bespectacled fourth sibling fidgeted uncomfortably, Fabian watched me intently, and Mother stared at Ellie, waiting for an answer.

What an absurdly horrific family dinner.

“I… I just got mad while talking to her. It was my fault,” Ellie finally stammered.

Mother turned her unreadable gaze to me.

An empty, hollow sensation swept over me.

Maybe she’d been waiting for an excuse to drag me back to the punishment room.

Too bad for her.

If Ellie were truly as empty-headed as she looked, she’d have pinned it all on me without a second thought.

“It’s true,” I said, smiling faintly.

“But I must have made Ellie angry first. I can’t recall exactly what I said. Mother, you wouldn’t want something like this to happen again, would you? Shall I recount our little conversation?”

“Please do.”

Well, Mother, I’m such an easy target, aren’t I?

Your daughter treats me the same way you do—nothing surprising there. She just got a little upset, that’s all.

“…You’re my daughter too, Emily.”

“Of course, Mother. I didn’t mean otherwise.

I only meant that you and Ellie resemble each other so much.

Those beautiful locks, bright blue eyes, and radiant ivory skin—not pallid and ghastly like mine.”

And let’s not forget the smell. Without perfume, you stink like a rat’s nest.

“How kind of you to say,” Mother replied with a smile.

The moment her expression softened, her eyes snapped back to me, sharp and unforgiving, before she resumed eating.

After dinner, I returned to my room.

I almost vomited, but I held it in, sank into my bed, and let my body relax.

Her piercing gaze still haunted me.

I always pretended to be strong, but in truth, I feared everyone.

Even Ernst—what if he abandoned me after saying he’d help?

Even though I know I’m not Emily, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll meet the same end she did.

People say they’ll help you, but you never know what they’ll do behind your back.

Like that Aria Eisenach—doesn’t she?

If I’d looked like her, my mother would never have treated me like this.

But even as I am, I should feel satisfied.

I’m thankful for this body, yet I know it isn’t enough.

When I was younger, I even wanted to tear someone else’s skin off and graft it onto my own face.

What does skin color matter anyway? It’s all just the same shade of white in the end.

I used to believe those “blacks” were people too.

People, yes. But here? Even commoners aren’t people.

And neither am I.

At best, I’m permitted to pretend to be human when I step outside.

Even breathing isn’t fully my own choice.

The air I long for, cool and fresh, remains out of reach behind firmly locked windows.

And food—I can barely stomach it.

Though it’s always rich dishes and soft bread, every bite comes with sharp glances and Mother’s endless critiques.

I’ve vomited mid-meal before.

Oh, that was a particularly bad incident.

Mother dragged me to the punishment room, force-fed me until I threw up again, and then struck me in the gut.

Right. I had almost forgotten about that.

Should I blame you for all of this?

I used to think I was human.

I used to believe I was free.

I thought I was a proud noblewoman, a proper young lady.

I hoped for a happy future someday, even if Mother tormented me for now.

When you appeared, I thought you’d save me.

I thought someone as extraordinary as you would solve everything.

I dreamed of a life where I’d enjoy the world alone or maybe even end up with Ernst, living a happy life.

But in the end, I was left with this wretched body.

Back when I was locked in that wardrobe, I wondered if I could die by smashing my head against the wall.

So I did. I slammed my head against it repeatedly, and then I passed out.

But of course, I didn’t die.

The fact that I’m even telling you this story means I failed. You already know that much.

“So, what exactly do you want me to do?”

There was no response.

I thought I was holding a notebook and pen, but when I looked down, only my empty hand mimicked the act of writing.

A hollow laugh escaped me as I reached for the medicine packet on the desk and swallowed another pill.

The bitterness was sharp, lingering on my tongue.

As the medicine dulled my mind, I ran my hand over my face, my thoughts spiraling.

What needs to be done, what must be done, what should be done… ah.

There was one last thing. Before bed, I needed to rewrap the bandages with the herb-scented medicine.

Rin had been helping me change them every day, but I preferred to handle things like this myself.

I retrieved the white bandages from the drawer and began unwrapping the old ones.

The hardened blood pulled at my skin as it came off, leaving that distinct stinging sensation.

It felt like just another meaningless day slipping by—

Until the door burst open with a loud bang.

“What the hell did you say to Ellie that made her—”

“Get out. I’m naked. Or should I scream and accuse my brother of trying to assault me?”

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