Chapter 3
I had done Rosalyn’s makeup so many times that I knew her face better than my own.
So when I styled her, my own habits showed through, and unintentionally she ended up looking similar to me.
Not like twins… but enough that people might believe we were sisters.
Stop thinking about her. She ruins everything.
I put on my new shoes last.
It was the first time I’d ever worn shoes that fit perfectly—not too loose, not too tight.
So this is what comfortable footwear feels like.
For the finishing touch, I wore a necklace I had quietly taken from Rosalyn’s jewelry box.
Before we traveled to Herona, I had stolen a thin gold necklace, thinking I could sell it later.
But even if I sold it, it wouldn’t come close to paying the compensation.
So instead, I clasped it around my own neck.
All right. Let’s go enjoy the best day of my life.
Looking like a noble lady, I returned the inn’s room key and stepped out into the street with my new handbag swinging at my side.
I could feel people looking at me differently.
Maybe because none of this felt real, I felt like I was standing on a grand stage, playing the role of a heroine in a play.
Look this way!
We love you!
In my childhood fantasies, the audience would call my name and throw flowers.
I’d imagined myself picking one up and bowing gracefully.
When I first arrived in Herona, it felt like that dream was finally within reach…
But it seemed the ending of this “stage” wouldn’t be glamorous after all.
I sighed at my pathetic life, then treated myself to cake at a fancy teahouse, read a book on the lawn, and strolled by the riverside.
Why do happy moments pass so quickly?
At last, I entered a stylish restaurant and ordered the “chef’s recommendation.”
I couldn’t remember the name of the dish, but every bite tasted heavenly.
I glanced at the clock.
5:30 p.m.
Only an hour and a half left until I had to return to the holding cell.
According to my plan, I was going to buy a strong bottle of liquor from a nearby shop, drink it all at once, and jump off the bridge.
So even if I lingered a little, I would still have time.
But then people began murmuring anxiously.
What’s happening?
Everyone was looking outside. I leaned over to see what they saw.
Black smoke was rising far away.
“Looks like a big fire somewhere.”
But a woman who would be dead in ninety minutes didn’t need to care.
I was deciding whether to drink the coffee the waiter brought when suddenly—
Police officers rushed into the restaurant.
They apologized to the owner and scanned the room as if searching for someone.
Their sharp gazes made my whole body tense.
No way… Are they here for me already? I still have time!
But my hope shattered when they spotted me and headed straight toward my table.
They glanced between me and a paper sketch—
A wanted poster.
My vision went dark.
Being dragged away now would be the worst ending! I should’ve gone straight to the bridge!
The senior officer stepped forward.
“I’m Sergeant Louis Fiedello from Division 2 of the Police Bureau. You are Miss Rosalyn Thesis, correct?”
…Excuse me, who?
I blinked, unable to respond, when he continued with a grave expression:
“You must come with us immediately. Your residence caught fire—and everyone except you has died!”
“…What?”
A shrill sound escaped me.
“What do you mean?”
“We don’t know the exact cause yet. The flames spread unnaturally fast. It seems no one had time to escape.”
Idiot! That’s not what I’m asking!
If the entire Thesis family had died—
Why on earth were they looking for me?
Wait.
He definitely called me Rosalyn just now…
While I was still processing the strangeness, another officer spoke gently, as if trying to comfort me.
“I know this is a terrible shock, but… Miss, you must claim your parents’ remains so we can proceed with the funeral.”
“M–Miss?”
“…Yes. Miss Rosalyn Thesis. That is you, isn’t it?”
At that moment, my mind snapped into perfect clarity.
For some reason, these people thought I was Rosalyn.
That meant—
If I became Rosalyn Thesis,
and the dead Rosalyn became Emma Hampton…
Then I no longer owed compensation.
I didn’t have to die.
I could live.
“Yes. I’m Rosalyn Thesis.”
***
When the coachman, dying at the fire scene, mistook me for Rosalyn, I finally understood:
The God who had always crushed me… had finally extended a hand.
“A-Ah… Miss Rosalyn…”
Burned and delirious, he looked at my red hair—so similar to hers—and called me by her name.
Then Earl Browe arrived.
Apparently he had barely spoken to the real Rosalyn before, because he too accepted me without hesitation.
Thanks to them, the police did not suspect a thing.
Originally, I planned to slip away quietly… but instead, I accidentally became a noblewoman.
I never imagined I’d live to enjoy something like this!
After the fire, I was taken into the Browe family estate.
The room they gave me was luxurious, the servants treated me with respect, and every corner of the mansion was beautiful.
But best of all—
The food.
I could eat meat whenever I wanted.
It felt like heaven.
I can’t believe I have to leave some of this on my plate… it’s too delicious to waste.
I desperately wanted to lick the plate clean, but that would expose me immediately.
So I carefully set down my fork.
Just then, Earl Browe spoke to me.
He was Rosalyn’s distant cousin—so distant that I had never even heard the terms “great-cousin” or “great-niece” before arriving here.
Seven degrees of separation?
That’s basically a stranger.
Rosalyn used to brag that the Thesis family served the Browes, so I assumed they were close relatives. Clearly she exaggerated.
“I know you’re still grieving,” the Earl said gently. “But the MacCallen family is hosting a party soon. It’s a good opportunity. Would you attend with us?”
It had been twenty days since the fire, fifteen since the funeral.
Apparently, in his mind, that was enough mourning.
Time to return to the marriage market.
Rosalyn Thesis had come to the capital for one reason: marriage.
To trade her barony for wealth—or something even more advantageous.
If I forgot that purpose, this kindly-looking distant relative would turn cold quickly.
Even a person crying over a dead pet would grieve for a month… but they expect someone to get over their parents’ death in twenty days?
Yes. Seven degrees of separation really is enough to make someone a stranger.
But I had no right to refuse.
If I wanted to survive long enough to escape someday, I had to play along.
“I hope I won’t be a burden if I go.”
“Nonsense! Don’t worry about that.”
The countess chimed in.
“Rosalyn, youth is short. Your golden years are passing by as we speak. You should secure a husband while you’re at your most beautiful.”
“That’s right. Who knows? A good man might take interest out of sympathy for your situation.”
“I’ve heard quite a few men have noticed you because of what happened. Think practically, dear.”
So—my parents’ deaths were… an opportunity?
Nobles truly had strange morals.
They acted noble when it suited them, but now they wanted me to think “practically.”
Of course—they weren’t the ones who lost their family.
Well, if we’re talking practicality, I should take some for myself as well.
“I understand. But… I apologize. All the dresses I brought from the Thesis estate burned in the fire…”
“Oh my goodness! I completely forgot about that!”
The Countess immediately called the head maid—even though we were eating.
“Mrs. Thompson! After the meal, prepare to take Rosalyn to the dressmaker.”
“Yes, madam.”
She smiled at me warmly.
She said she would buy me several new outfits today.
I already had indoor dresses, simple day dresses, and a mourning dress they’d given me—their married daughter’s hand-me-downs.
I expected they would give me one of her old evening dresses too.
But perhaps because of their own words about “opportunity,” they said they would buy me a new one instead.
Looks like they’re planning to profit well from my marriage.
